The big news of the day is that the latest issue of Full House magazine has hit the streets, and what's more, it only costs 50p. Which is living proof that you get what you pay for. But for anyone unwilling to part with that kind of money, here's what you're missing...


I've reproduced it there at the perfect size for viewing (ie. too small to read). I must admit, I never imagined that an article which begins with the sentence "Lathering up in the shower, I sang to myself loudly. 'Rub a dub, dub...'" would end with the words "Phil Gardner, 35, Brighton, East Sussex". Especially as I turned 36 last week.

I'd just like to state for the record that I wrote precisely none of those words. And I've never 'cooed' in my life. The only writing I did was to sign my name on the contract promising me money. But personally I like it. As I said to Lisa this afternoon, it goes so far past bad that it comes right back around to good. Although I think my Mum summed up the situation nicely when she texted me in the middle of a clinic at Mile Oak this morning with these words of wisdom: "You and Chloe are in the magazine - rubbish story but 2 good pictures. Have you had the cheque?".