WASHED AND READY TO EAT

One of the more bizarre revelations to emerge from Edward Snowden's whistleblowing is the supposed monitoring of communications by British intelligence at the 2009 G20 summit. When foreign officials gathered for the shindig, they were allegedly encouraged to use bogus internet cafes set up by spooks. I'm struggling to get my head around this. This is 2009, right? And the politicians and diplomatic entourages of the the world's 20 most prosperous countries rely on internet cafes to send email? I'm tempted to email Mr Snowden myself over a secure server and ask for more detail. Perhaps the visiting dignitaries were using Alta Vista to surf the web? Next time, they'll bring their own 28k modems with them.

Every time I visit the checkout at Tesco, I can't help but pity the poor workers who are forced to wear ridiculous badges that tell me the year they joined the team. They are also encouraged to give me details about their hobbies and interests. What exactly am I supposed to do with this information? Strike up a conversation? "You know what, Mike? It is Mike, isn't it? I just couldn't help noticing that you're a keen gardener. The thing is, so am I! I suppose it's what they'd call a coincidence, but isn't it weird that two such keen horticulturalists could end up in exactly the same place at the same time?" If I worked for Tescoses, I'd want to liven my badge up a bit. My name is Phil. Joined the team in 2011. I like smashing plates at Greek restaurants. I was on the last G20 demo. I have an obsession with Lady Gaga.