16 April 1998 - WORMERY OWNER
Now that I'm cured of being a werewolf, I have decided to start my own wormery. I was up until 3am this morning collecting worms from my garden. When my pockets were full, I transferred the worms to the wormery itself, which I have constructed from a kettledrum filled with ice cream.
I've bought an endoscope, which I wish to use to push into the ice cream to watch the worms going about their daily business. Sadly, all I've seen so far are dead worms, but I'm feeling optimistic.
17 April 1998 - WORMERY OWNER
I invited some friends round to see the worms I collected from my back garden. To showcase them in as natural a setting as possible, I buried the worms in a satchel full of cocoa powder and moss.
Due to the not-see-through nature of the leather bag, my friends were unable to see the worms, but I gave a graphic representation of what they might be doing. I even adopted a series of funny voices to make the demonstration as enjoyable as possible.
18 April 1998 - WORMERY OWNER
I have't seen movement in any of my worms for some days now, and I'm becoming concerned that they might be ill - or worse.
In an attempt to make them not-ill, I poured a load of Biactol and Lucozade - the only medicines I had in the house - into the wormery, but all this seemed to do was make a real mess. I rang The Samaritans to help me cope with the crisis, but the bloke on the other end of the phone told me to stop wasting his time. It's obvious he didn't realise quite how distraught I was.
20 April 1998 - WORMERY OWNER
Last night I hammered a load of holes in the side of my wormery, and strapped it to the top of my car. I had this crazy idea that the worms would enjoy getting some air, but as I drove along the air pressure just forced the contents of the wormery out the back of it. A cloud of worms and mud sprayed behind me as I drove around the M25.
I was eventually stopped by the police, who thought I was a biological terrorist – they'd mistaken the worms for really big bits of bacteria.
21 April 1998 - WORMERY OWNER
I've had to burn my wormery after I had a scary dream that the worms were going to eat my shirt. I woke up in a cold sweat, screaming for my shirt. You can imagine how stupid I felt when I realised my shirt was undamaged.
Nethertheless, I couldn't ignore the fact that my dream could've been a psychic premonition of some sort, and instantly destroyed the wormery in my back garden. I can't say I really enjoyed it - I'd really gotten close to some of those hermaphrodites.