Anyone who knows me well, will know that my life is an endless round of good deeds and charity work, and I stop at nothing to improve the lives of others. Unless it involves putting myself out too much. Yesterday was a fine example. Strolling along Madeira Drive (five minutes walk from my flat) I found a Barclays Connect card lying on the ground. There was no one around, and it didn't expire until 2010, so naturally my first thought was to return home and use it to access premium porn websites. But then I thought no. That would be wrong. And I could probably be traced by my IP address.

So having spent five minutes trying to think of a foolproof way to spend, spend, spend without leaving a trail for the police, I eventually decided to return it to the nearest branch of Barclays. I wasn't planning on going straight there (I had numerous important places to go, not least the computer games shop in Western Road), but having walked another 200 yards along the seafront I became so paranoid that I convinced myself I was the victim of a major police sting, and was about to be jumped by twenty officers demanding to know what I was doing heading away from Barclays with a stolen card in my pocket.

So I changed my plans and went straight there. It's impossible to hand in a lost card without looking slightly shifty, but I think they believed me when I said I hadn't stolen it. My only disappointment was that there wasn't a reward (and yes, I did ask), but I'm sure I'll receive my reward in heaven. Hopefully in cash.

My main reason for going out, however, was to visit Crane Kalman, an art gallery in North Laine which is currently exhibiting a collection of photographs by Mary McCartney, the eldest daughter of a Beatle and a vegeburger magnate (who also took a few snaps in her time).

The collection is entitled 'Off Pointe – A Photographic Study of The Royal Ballet After Hours'. I wasn't sure what the pointe was, but I did enjoy the exhibition. And not just because it was free to get in. Mary doesn't seem able to afford colour film, but despite that, she manages to capture a lot of poignancy in her work. I particularly liked the one of the ballerina and the washing machine, but my favourite one was this, because it reminded me of Lisa...


Not so much for the balletic physique, more for the love of crisps.

As for today's good deed, well that involved answering a cry for help from the editor of the Kemptown Rag, who felt that next week's issue was lacking the kind of pointless, over-long ramble I've made my own in recent months, and wondered if I could come up with something at short notice. Naturally a lack of ideas is no bar to writing an article, so I sat down this morning and knocked out 950 words. 948 of which were lifted from last week's blog posts. I wonder if it's wrong to plagiarise yourself..?