8.30am

Am woken at half past eight by the polar bear upstairs falling out of bed again. Decide to get him back by swapping half the milk outside his door for cat’s piss. Realise too late that he probably won’t notice, and even if he did, it’s likely he’d prefer it. He’s such a git. Make myself feel better by lobbing stones out of the window at children on their way to school. Make at least two cry. RESULT!

9.30am

People who’ve visited have described my flat as a “seedy bachelor pad”. I can see where they’re coming from, but think “den” is closer to the mark. “Pad” sounds homely somehow, and there’s nothing homely about mysterious carpet stains (could be blood, could be something worse…) patchy wall-paper (I’ve used a few old porno mags to cover the gaps, but it’s not the same) and the collection of dead seagulls I’ve got hanging from the ceiling. Still, it’s what I call home and I wouldn’t change it for all the clean sheets, unbroken windows and fresh smells in the world.

10.00am

In fact, sometimes it’s a bit of a wrench to leave the old place. However I’m always reminded of that famous saying “Evil wasn’t built in a day” (I think that’s what it was) so waste little time in getting on with it. I like to warm up with something small so that I’m in the mood for something truly evil later on. Today I scratch the paintwork of several cars before snapping off their windscreen wipers. A bit of a low-rent cliché, but it always works for me. What am I most proud of? You don’t see many dodos around anymore do you? That’s all I’m saying.

6.00pm

I generally don’t have time for lunch, and it’s often difficult to get fresh fish on the move, so it’s not until six o’clock that I usually have time to sit down collect my thoughts and fill my stomach. I’ll put on a nice snuff movie, crack open some cider (if I’m in the mood I’ll mix it with meths) and tuck into a lovely plate of herring.

9.30pm

Later I pop into a lap-dancing joint over the road. They all know me there, and for some reason having flippers allows me to get round the “no touching” rule they seem to insist on. Can’t resist spiking the drink of the man sitting next to me. While he’s unconscious we steal all his stuff, shave his hair off and enlist him in the foreign legion. It gives us a good laugh and when he comes round I’m sure he’ll think it’s hilarious too.

1.00am

However I don’t stick around to find out……there’s work to be done. A friend calls to tell me that he has just found an empty factory that hasn’t been locked over-night. We quickly set fire to it; I find arson such a satisfying way of ending the evening. As I make my way back home through the smoke, sirens and screams of terror, I can look back on a day well-spent.