BEYOND THE IMPLODE 3 - BRITISH AIRWAYS 0

Ran into my niece, her boyfriend and their 3-year old daughter on the weekend. They live in Leagrave, an especially soulless part of Luton. My niece is OK, she's managed to stay out of trouble ever since she mushed some honky slag outside a nightclub who called her a 'paki' (and got community service for it). Her boyfriend is thinking of taking up martial arts though, as he's sick of copping racial abuse from Asians in the area, who shout 'black bastards' when he and my niece are going out.

My niece, who's half and half, is more stoic about it, reasoning that 'all pakis stink of shit, they're so disgusting'. What really disturbed me though was the amount of fun I was having with my niece's kid. We invented a new 'game', which basically consisted of me holding her by the hips and 'dive-bombing' her, head-first, at a downwards 45 degree angle towards the kitchen sink, where she'd shout '1- 2-3-GO' and place her tiny hand right under the cold tap as I turned it on, causing water to spray out all over the kitchen. Her sleeves were soaked, so no doubt if she catches pneumonia between now and 2010 it'll all be my fault. I left her singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Rabbit (sic) and went out to get pissed with my sister - though, somehow, I've only gone and promised my niece I'll invite her down to London next time there's some worthy grime event. Incidentally, my sister was hilarious, she drank so much she got all weepy and emotional and started recounting the time she'd been to Paris on a school trip in the 1970s and had seen a bloke throw himself off the top of Notre Dame. "I just remember seeing his shoes come off mid-air and the loud crash when he landed," she was nearly sobbing at me as I desperately willed myself to stay awake. I came to at 4am, in a strange bed, gagging for a pint of water, my nightmares streaked with images of suicide jumpers and hidden masonic symbols on the yellowing gatefold sleeves of 2nd-hand 'Dennis the Menace' LPs.

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PSYCHBLOKE has jacked in blogging, he was worried that his readers had rumbled his identity (think BBC Bristol weather presenter). He threw a 'me' (ie-deleted everything -how utterly juvenile!) and has since disappeared. BTi wishes him the very best of success under his new 'myspace' persona, 'Dominic'. A Ronnie Kray-style funeral is planned in North London, Psychbloke's personality will be carefully psychically implanted inside a Battle of the Planets action figure, and placed inside a miniature coffin, to be borne on a child's scooter by two whippets in knitted tartan doggie-coats. The coffin will proceed between Chalk Farm tube station and Highgate Cemetery, where said action figure will be taken out and tossed over the gate.

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ROB LOVEECSTASYCRIME has managed to escape a spell in the slammer - congratulations! JOHN EDEN has RSI or something- commiserations! BETTY BOO, the girl who stole my pre-teenage heart*, is back in the charts, collaborating with that smirking, sneering, lanky cunt from Blur - the one who used to wedge a cigarette between his lips for the duration of entire concerts ; y'know, like Slash used to do back in the 1700s at those Monsters of Rock gigs that all cynical indie fans despised.

This Blur / Boo 'project' is called WIGWAM - what a load of old pony. Yeah OK, OK, if I only had three minutes left to live I'd probably spend it watching her classic Doin' the Doo vid, while knocking back a lethal combination of Harpic, Special Brew and Creme de Menth. And, as sexist as this may sound, having unblocked my own kitchen sink single-handedly, I wouldn't mind having a crack at Betty's utility room too ((Oh, fuck off, it was there on a plate!)).

But Boomania was donkeys years' ago, and I don't care if Where Are You Baby was basically Martha & The Vandellas' Nowhere to Run taking E, bunking off school and hanging around the swings, riding an emotional rollercoaster of truant high life and unrequited lust - pure pop teenage lightning, in other words! This hideous Boo / Blur 'Wigwam' collaboration should have been strangled at birth, and anyone over the age of 9 who attempts to buy the single should be shot. Don't encourage these deplorable comebacks, for God's sake. Next thing you know, Fuckface from The Libertines will be duetting with Vice Squad's BEKKI BONDAGE on Pop World. No wonder Norman Kember wanted to stay and rot in Iraq - it really is that bad.

(* - well, apart from Sabrina and Sinitta)