My mother used to say never send a letter until the following morning. Actually, it was my friend Bill Bissell’s mum, and as with most things, she was absolutely right.

Nonetheless, I had a phone conversation this morning with a man who has made it his business to make my life hell. It’s tough always doing the right thing, always turning the other cheek. It’s tough not just pummeling the bastard, not just taking his balls of steel and ramming them down his cheeky little throat.

So anyway, I started a letter to him this morning but you know, it’s one of those letters you really can’t send. So instead, I’m going to inflict my otherwise innocent blogosphere readers and post it here. I/05/edit or even delete it tomorrow as I can’t remember the last thing I did in anger that benefitted anyone;-)