I rearranged my street around your car

I let the newt go yesterday, and it left me with a very empty feeling inside my jar. I realised, suddenly - as is how realisations tend to show themselves - that sitting about all day in a room full of empty take-away boxes, jars and chop-sticks simply wasn't fulfilling the social side of my life. In fact; it was creating a large void where the social side of my life should have been, so I called up Paulie and we had lunch. At a very expensive restaurant. I got £145 worth of free food and Paulie got £145 worth of superior feeling, paying for it. We had a nice chat about how he was doing in his law firm and how I was doing in my permenant state of holiday, this and that - you know - the usual. It was... normal. And then he disclosed unto me that he had noticed a rather strange man walking around and glancing at me occasionally in a brown raincoat. Solomon. This was very bad, very good, or very strange. So I left him to pay the bill, as usual, and walked back home where, sure enough...

I had an interesting day. I checked where I was walking - to be sure not to stand on any more toasters - and found some form of small reptile - or amphibian - sliming its horrid little way around my kitchen. When I had ascertained that it was much too small to be Barnes I picked it up and put it in a jar. That's where it stayed for the rest of the day.

Anyway I went back into the kitchen at lunch, when I was feeling a bit hungry - because I hadn't eaten all day - and there was another creature sliming its way around my counter-tops. When it was ascertained that this creature was physically and irremovably attached to something else, I picked it up and asked it who it was. Well! It started in so much terror that it blundered its way out of my front door (after blundering its way into my front door) and disappeared over the horizon, taking it's attachee with it.

Would anyone happen to have more than a passing acquaintance with a creature of this description (the latter, not the first)?

If not, I think it could be the MOD again... only I didn't think they employed people like that.

It's not that I wanted to do this. In fact it's very much that I didn't want to do this, but my 'tax-efficient dictaphone' 'broke' and now I have nowhere that I can talk like an idiot with a tax-efficient dictaphone. Solomon told me that journals are good for expressing feelings. I don't know why he told me this, so don't ask me. He set this up because I know that if I so much as stare too hard at one of these things it'll burst into flames. 

I never expressed my feelings into the dictaphone - I know you know that - so I don't see why he thinks it's so important for me to start now. Expressing my feelings, that is, into any form of technology advanced beyond me and my feelings. But he sounded as if this was important so I'll 'express my feelings'.

I'm sat on a chair. The chair is hard. It isn't comfortable. I don't feel comforted.

See? Didn't work.

I think I'd better go before things start exploding and hurting me. I've had enough explosion and hurt for one day; I tripped over the toaster this morning and it toasted in protest - toasted my foot. Why anyone would leave a toaster on the floor in the first place is a complete and utter mystery; maybe they thought the lessening of gravity would help with the toasting. Idiot.