Here, deep in the rainforests of Darkest Wiltshire, the evenings are a time when the animals of the forest gather for their nightly mating rituals, challenging rivals, announcing themselves to all the other animals as big, hairy, and completely sozzled, and so for a few hours the cacophany continues.

Later, when most of the animals ave either found a mate, a hospital bed, or a ride in a police van, there's an occaisional outburst from young male apes, hooting loudly to proclaim the success of their favourite football team. But even they eventually wander away.

And so the small hours bring an feeling of emptiness to the forest, a quiet interrupted only by the passing of a motor vehicle. Yet if we wait patiently, a creature emerges from the undergrowth, a nocturnal scavenger...

Thwump... Thwump crack!

Yes, the sound of a back door being kicked in betrays the presence of the lesser Spotted Burglar as he raids the nests of other animals in search of shiney things. Moving quickly he he darts inside, sifting carelessly through the nest, and vanishing into the darkness when he finds something he can use to feed his habit.

Dawn brings another creature to the forest, the Detective, a prowling creature in dark plumage, wandering the area for the scent of his favourite prey, the burglar. The detective and burglar are rival species in the fight for survival in the rainforest.

Getting There Eventually

I see that a microlight pilot has spent four months flying from england to australia, a distance of 12,000 miles no less. Even in this day and age there are still adventures to be had. Of course things have moved on since the heyday of exploratory flying when aeroplanes were real aeroplanes. Whereas once a pilot took off across hundreds of miles of primitive country with no facilities for flying, now he must cross nation after nation with airports, traffic control, regulations and flight plans. I think we can see where the achievement is.

Coming There Eventually

Also in the news is the revelation that prostitutes in Berlin can buy tickets to legally ply their trade, with 'consummation areas' set aside. This sort of idea is nothing new. Some people have suggested it for British cities before now in some form or other.

Personally speaking I don't buy from prostitutes. British prostitutes are invariably ugly for a start, never mind the health and criminal issues involved. That's my choice. Others of course will disagree and utilise their services, and our local red light district, Manchester Road, has never rid itself of the stigma of prostitution. In fact, local residents want the area renamed 'Broadgreen' to disassociate themselves from the nocturnal trade.

I think it's clear that the worlds oldest profession is not going to disappear overnight, unlike people belongings, and I still haven't solved the case of the missing Eunos Cabriolet. A postcard arrived through mmy letterbox the other day, asking me for my opinions on local issues and what I want done. To be honest, prostitution, for all the insidious effects it can have on a neighbourhood, is a lesser issue. What gets my goat are those cocky little thieves making life a misery for local residents.

Lock them all up. No sex for them, unless they're unlucky enough to share a cell with a twenty eight stone weightlifter who thinks they're cute, but when they've served their sentence they can always look forward to getting laid again.