I didn't feel too shaken by last night's close shave, though was a little nervous getting behind the wheel again. Luckily my drive tonight was a short one as I was heading to Harpenden.

As might be clear touring is stressful enough on its own, but not content with just having that on my plate we've got several massive life changing things to do in the next couple of months. The most pressing is some improvements to our house, including an extension. We thought we'd be able to weather the storm and stay in the house while this was going on, but it's clear that that is not the case. We've got to move out for a few months, so today I was desperately trying to find alternative accommodation.

Having not rented for about 14 years I have to say I am utterly astonished about how expensive the tiniest of flats are to rent. I must make it clear I am not complaining on my own behalf - I was lucky to get on to the property ladder when it was just about still affordable and am doing well enough now to make improvements to this house. But the cost of a one bedroom flat in Shepherd's Bush (where to be honest they should be paying US to live) is actually heart-stopping. Even a studio flat comes in at over £200 a week and a one bedroom flat with a lounge is £325. In stinky Shepherd's Bush. How can anyone with a normalish job afford this? It's actually quite sick. Houses are so expensive that someone at this kind of level can't manage to buy anywhere, but they are shelling out more money that would pay the mortgage on a vast property and not getting anything in return other than the right to live in the house. I am amazed that the populace doesn't rise up as one and kill all property owners (and yes, I am a property owner and I still think that), especially the pricks that are creaming off £16,000 a year from your hard-earned wages so that you squat in their house. Smash the state. Smash it!

It's no wonder civilisation is on its last legs.

And yet because it's impossible to buy anywhere for most people, this means people are falling over themselves to rent these flats. There's hardly anything on the market - a flat we liked yesterday was gone by this morning - so the landlords are able to ask for whatever they want. We need somewhere for about five months, but six is the minimum that anyone is offering us and others have said we can't rent unless we commit to 12 months. It'd be nice to stay in this area, but I think we might actually have to vacate London for a while. We'll see.

But I am really not moaning for myself, but for this unfair society where things have got to this state of affairs. I don't know if the government's attempts to deflect everyone's attention by allowing bankers to take the blame (and punishing a couple of high profile ones). Society is rotten to its core.

On the other hand, now I know the money that's on offer I am considering just renting out my house once it's finished and going to live in a hole in the ground.

The worst thing about all this from my point of view might be that none of these money grubbing bastards will be prepared to take my money from me because I can't make enough of a commitment to them. Fucking Hell. Smash the state and kill anyone with property. I am not kidding (for any police surfing the internet - I am kidding). Aside....

Whatever happens the move might put the kabosh on the Snooker podcasts for a while, which is a shame because after a fluid and fun gig in Harpenden Hall (I realised just how fucked I had been yesterday - the whole day felt like I was viewing it from inside a shaken up snow-globe (one that nearly got shattered in a crash - fittingly enough if you've seen the show), I returned home to record frame 9 of Me1 vs Me2 Snooker. It really says something for how little spare time I have at the moment that I was settling down to do this at 11.30pm. But I am on the road for the foreseeable future and I am keen to keep this going while I can. This episode will not be released until Tuesday, but you should await it with anticipation because it's a cracker. At least I think it is. It's hard to remember. Because one of the many revelations in the podcast has driven Me2 to drink and he played the whole frame whilst necking fine cognac. Me1 did not approve of such amateurish shenanigans and pointedly drank Ribena before his shots, but somehow even though only one Me was drinking, all the others seemed to become intoxicated merely by osmosis. It makes for some interesting play and some revelations and if it doesn't all start to make some kind of sense during frame 9, then I am afraid it is you who is losing your marbles.

I have never enjoyed drinking on my own so much (though you're never alone with the 6 Mes - yes 6 - you'll see) and whilst from the outside this was a man in his basement, necking hard liquor whilst playing himself at snooker and shouting at himself, there was nothing crazy going on at all.

But who won? You'll have to wait til Tuesday to find out. But you might be surprised (if you are guessing the player who actually lost).

After a non-stop day necking four large brandies in 45 minutes (even with a fizzy Ribena chaser) made me somewhat giggly and tired, but in a nice way. And having cheated death (for how long?) it was good to live a little, even if the prudish, boring Me1 side of my personality didn't approve and was worrying that it might impact harshly on another packed day tomorrow. But Me2 deserved the drink. He's had some bad news and let's face it, it must have been him who manned up and grabbed the wheel and steered us all to safety after useless Me1 nearly drove us into the back of a car.

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