From my desk at work, I can see out a window (note: this is the first job I've ever had where I wasn't trapped in a windowless void). When I first got here, there was a nice view of Hampstead Heath. However, since Christmas or thereabouts there has been some construction going on, which we've all been watching with interest – apparently it's some new Market thingo which is presumably going to have the effect of making Camden a bit more trendy/upmarket and thereby rip out most of its living soul.

But the point is, for some reason lately when I see the workers out there walking along their special scaffolding thing, or all putting their hands up to maneuver a piece of plate glass, their helmets and hi-vis vests kind of remind me of Doozers (see picture).

In reality I know they're not… you're not likely to ever hear a Doozer whistle at a buxom woman walking past, or see one exposing cavernous amounts of crevasse. And for that matter, it doesn't look like whatever it is they're building will be readily consumable by a Fraggle. It's not how the food chain works – puppets don't eat concrete.

Maybe this image has something to do with Andres' ringtone, which I've been subject to for the last couple of weeks… Subliminal.

Tonight I'm catching up with Sean Ramsay-Hyphen-Bullshit-Moore, who landed in London on Monday (FINALLY). I swear, this guy's probably the only person I know who procrastinated over moving over here longer than I did.