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An altercation with a heroin addict. Was walking down the street after lunch when a gaunt, sunken-eyed woman barged past, shouting “excuse me!” as she went, promptly falling flat on her face. I walked on. Two minutes later she caught up with me, calling me ignorant for not moving out of the way and telling me “that nice fucking woman helped me up. You never.” I called her a fool, she threatened me, so I stared at her long enough to make her think I might be a nasty piece of work. A little less smack would help her to not fall over so often. She was last seen running into a shoe shop at great speed, no doubt to knock over all the displays and blame the ignorant staff. Look around yourself when you’re walking through Hull and you realise that there are more heroin addicts than not.

Overheard mobile phone conversation in Jacksons: “I’d rather be a pillock that a tosser”. Who can argue with such logic?

Duncan, the press officer from York Theatre Royal, called. “Have I thought of doing anything with Phoenix Dance?” I can’t even remember how to do a quickstep, never mind all that contemporary rubbish.

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