Peter Rhodes: A toothy souvenir

THE Ulstermen have been bribed and the Scots have elected a clutch of Conservative MPs to Westminster. Mrs May's Tory Government : O'Strong & McStable.

GOOGLE has been fined £2.1 billion by EU regulators for “artificially and illegally promoting its own price comparison service in searches.” This allegedly “denied both its consumers real choice and rival firms the ability to compete on a level playing field.” I hold no brief for Google but as a humble EU citizen with the nous to find bargains, it seems to me that Google used its own shop window to promote its own products. Just as every department store and village shop across the EU does.

JEL Singh Nagra was forced to change the name of his shop in Tyneside after a legal complaint from Sainsbury's. Like a number of Sikh-owned shops, it was light-heartedly named Singhsbury's. When the supermarket chain objected, Jel renamed the shop Morrisinghs. Far from being annoyed, Morrisons says: “Mr Nagra and his customers obviously have good taste so we wish him well.” Who comes out of this story best? Mr Nagra must be happy with his masses of free publicity. Morrisons is perceived as an organisation with a sense of humour. And Sainsbury's looks like a bunch of po-faced killjoys.

I LIKE to think, if I were one of the Camden tenants ordered to leave my tower block in the early hours by pushy council officials, I'd have told them to get lost. The wholesale resettling of people in godforsaken leisure centres smacks of nothing less than panic – coupled with the politicians' desperate desire to be seen to be doing something. Few things in life are more stressful than enforced eviction - especially when the chances of a second tower-block fire must be infinitesimal.

THINGS you accumulate. Sorting out her jewellery (euphemism) box, Mrs Rhodes came across a small box containing Georgia's baby teeth. It is not unusual to keep your kids' little toosy-pegs. But Georgia was not our offspring. She was the little black labrador we puppy-walked 25 years ago to prepare for her training as a guide dog. Long gone but loved for ever. And how sharp those tiny teeth were.

MY eye surgery this week? Kind of you to ask. It was a blissful little drama, apart from the first act which involved three nurses wrestling to insert a painkilling pellet under my resisting eyelid. Next, the numbing eye drops, followed by what I believe the drug-abusing community calls seriously good **** from the anaesthetist. The op itself was not only painless but enjoyable, a dreamy 40 minutes as the eye surgeon did his stuff (which has always struck me as being like trying to pick up eels with chopsticks) and I descended into what looked like an ever-changing kaleidoscope of blue and white lights. It was like a day trip to the Sixties. I should have asked for the Sgt Pepper soundtrack.

I AM pleased, nay smug, to report that the reason the nurses struggled with the analgesic pellet is that my eyelids are unusually taut and youthful. Shame about the other bits.