Valentino Rossi eat your heart out

It's been a strange week. The Bishop called round for a small sherry which meant he was angling for something. Turns out that he had got wind that the Silver Fox may have returned and was asking if I knew anything. I told him that I had heard the rumours but had found out very little. It seemed to ease his mind a bit but he still would not say what it was that was bothering him either way. I still think he owes the Fox some money, for what, I have no idea.
He then went on to ask if I had seen much of Dylan and if I thought she would be likely to attend one of his parish dinners if he invited her. Basically the parish dinners are a piss-up paid for by the church under the pretence of  'forging village relations'.
Last time it saw the butcher punching the local planning officer and the Bishop half naked, wearing the bread bin on his head and his Mitre full of crusty rolls.
Nobody ate the french stick.

Raggy is back at work and looks a lot better - well, he looks better than he did before but still looks like he has been dug up. Mrs Burroughs is apparently still under the weather and her husband reckons he may take her away for a break to get her strength back. He ought to take me away with them so I can get my bloody strength back - I need some proper food and fast ! The other night I ordered a pizza and nearly an hour later I heard what sounded like a leaf-blower coming up the drive. I then heard a loud scraping noise followed by a 'bang!'
I opened the front door and saw a moped in my geranium bed and a body slumped over my ornamental fountain. The body suddenly got up, went across to the moped, extracted it from the flower bed and put it up on its stand and opened the box on the back and walked over to me. I asked if he was alright and he said "Yeh, fine mister, I just came too wide and got caught in your gravel trap"
I looked around and said "Gravel trap ? My entire front drive is gravel, what did you expect ?"
"Yeh, I know, you want to get some more tarmac down cos' its a deff trap innit"
He then handed me a warm paper parcel and asked for six pounds so I gave him a tenner as I was still looking around at what on earth possessed him to come round the drive as if he was at Mallory Park.
He reached into his pocket for the change and I told him to keep it, still trying to figure out what he had done. "Nice one ! Enjoy your kebab !". I just nodded and was still trying to work out what he had done to end up sprawled across the front of the house when he got back on his moped, revved up and sped off back down the drive, his tail light hanging off and the lid of his box flapping like a shit-house door in a storm. I turned to go back inside when down the drive I heard the moped rev wildly, followed by a loud metallic rumble and a 'bang!' and then "Aww F*ck !" then straight away the moped started once more and sped off into the night.
It occurred to me that he must have come off as he went over the cattle grid.
I got back inside and went into the kitchen and sat at the table. It then struck me what he had said as I opened the paper parcel and saw not a pizza but a kebab. I groaned as I saw the gaping pitta bread with all the meat hanging out the sides, covered in greasy juice and my mind flashed back to that girl I knew in Hatfield and my hunger suddenly disappeared....

Kipper has returned to work. I opened the window the other morning and saw him trimming the hedge.
I went out and asked how he was and he said he was fine and had just needed a few days to clear his head. He must have had a blocked nose and sore throat as he muttered something about being coked up.
I asked how the tomatoes were doing but he said they had died but he would be planting some more. I asked if it was the frost that had killed them and he said more than likely. I asked if he would compost the dead plants and he replied that he had already burnt them.
Apparently his friends from the nursery are getting him some more seeds. Personally I would have gone for more plants rather than seeds but I'm sure he knows what he's doing. I asked when he would be re-planting and he said as soon as his nursery friends get back as they are away on holiday at the moment in Amsterdam.
I bet they've gone to visit the Anne Frank museum.