My little néni next-door neighbour was admiring our new plants the other day (we planted new ones after leaving two dead trees to rot outside for several months), when she told me that she had measured our trees.

Apparently ours are 80cm and her single specimen is only 40. I know our neighbours have a bit of a plant war going on, but I was a bit surprised by this. I’ve heard of penis envy, but never tree envy.

I’m now worried that she is going to sabotage our efforts, either by hoiking up her otthonka and spraying the plants with paprika-laced old-lady pee, or by swapping them when we aren’t looking. I’m wondering if we should set up some kind of guard system: man-traps or some such device to catch her. She has thick ankles, so it shouldn’t cause any permanent damage.

There are quite a few old women with nothing to do in our building. When Pollock was visiting last year, he came out the shower in his boxer shorts to find the ancient old woman that does balcony circuits on her zimmer frame cupping her hands and peering in the window.

Lucky for her she’s very short-sighted, or the sight of Pollock’s beer-belly overhanging his skiddies might have caused her frail wee heart to burst (with sexual excitement, obviously).

I’m hoping that when I get to that age I have something a bit more interesting to do with my time – perhaps smelling of piss on public transport or holding up post office queues by refusing point-blank to understand the new stamp system.

Sometimes I think Logan’s Run was onto something, but then I’ve already passed the cut-off point and would have been bumped off five years ago.

Aaargggh! I want nothing more than to get on with my book, but instead I’m stuck writing about bloody politics all day long because of this election. Bring back communism.

Aaargggh! I want nothing more than to get on with my book, but instead I’m stuck writing about bloody politics all day long because of this election. Bring back communism.

I’m sure most people who live in Hungary have noticed the election campaign recently; it’s been kind of hard to miss.

Millions of words have been written about the dirty tactics, etc, but nobody seems to have mentioned the fact that several of the Socialist’s younger candidates appear to be wearing far too much make-up in their posters.

I’ve noticed at least three different candidates who look as if they’re auditioning for a part in a panto. Yesterday I saw a poster of a man who was definitely wearing bright red lipstick. On top of that, you can see the foundation, blusher, eyeliner and plucked eyebrows.

My favourite has to be one young gent who appears to have modelled his poster on old portraits of the England’s most-famous camp writer – Oscar Wilde. He is blatantly caked in make-up and is sporting an arch, come-and-get-it-boys expression. I haven’t seen his campaign promises, but they probably involve compulsory cravates, more men-only days at the baths and cross-dressing days for government employees. Definitely as camp as row of tents.

Still, at least he’s making an effort, which is more than can be said for some of the others. One of the older Socialist candidates initially appeared with a shock of uncombed white hair and a big smile full of the yellowest teeth I have ever seen in my life. This quickly got pulled down and replaced with a closed mouth smile. And then there is Mr Soos, my local Democratic Forum candidate. They had to make the poster extra wide to fit in his enormous ears and giant NHS-style specs. He looks like his blind mother cuts his hair.

I’m sure most people who live in Hungary have noticed the election campaign recently; it’s been kind of hard to miss.

Millions of words have been written about the dirty tactics, etc, but nobody seems to have mentioned the fact that several of the Socialist’s younger candidates appear to be wearing far too much make-up in their posters.

I’ve noticed at least three different candidates who look as if they’re auditioning for a part in a panto. Yesterday I saw a poster of a man who was definitely wearing bright red lipstick. On top of that, you can see the foundation, blusher, eyeliner and plucked eyebrows.

My favourite has to be one young gent who appears to have modelled his poster on old portraits of the England’s most-famous camp writer – Oscar Wilde. He is blatantly caked in make-up and is sporting an arch, come-and-get-it-boys expression. I haven’t seen his campaign promises, but they probably involve compulsory cravates, more men-only days at the baths and cross-dressing days for government employees. Definitely as camp as row of tents.

Still, at least he’s making an effort, which is more than can be said for some of the others. One of the older Socialist candidates initially appeared with a shock of uncombed white hair and a big smile full of the yellowest teeth I have ever seen in my life. This quickly got pulled down and replaced with a closed mouth smile. And then there is Mr Soos, my local Democratic Forum candidate. They had to make the poster extra wide to fit in his enormous ears and giant NHS-style specs. He looks like his blind mother cuts his hair.

OK, you asked for it, so you’re going to get it. Actually, you didn’t ask for it, but you’re going to get it anyway.

I’ve just realised that I am very bored with the fiction I have been trying to write, and I have been grasped with enthusiasm for Forget the Cud, We Want Blood.

As a result, I have begun work on the first chapter of a work I truly believe will come to rival such masterpieces as War and Peace, The Old Man and the Sea, and Crime and Punishment.

This magnificent novella will be exclusively serialised on this website, and will be the first work to deal with not only the human condition, but the bovine condition.

Marvel as the cows strike back and develop a taste for human flesh!

Tremble as civilisation as we know it bends to the will of bloodthirsty cattle!

Dare to hope as a small band of unwashed, sandal-wearing hippy throwbacks grapple with their consciences and attempt to secure the future of mankind by throwing off their love of tofu, quorn and other tasteless meat substitutes!

All of this will be yours for free, starting as soon as I finish the first chapter.