It's currently 11:22pm on Saturday, September 18th, and 6,647 guests have signed in.

Mil says: Behold my Guestbook. You may write your entry using the 'bit' at the top of page. You may read the entries of others by looking further down the page. The whole thing is based on literacy, really.

Public service announcement. If you don't check the FAQ before adding your entry you'll just make yourself look even more stupid in front of us all - this is your only warning.

Another public service announcement. I do not censor guestbook comments. However, I do remove spam advertising, probably because I'm a godless, pinko, gay-enabling liberal or something. Spammers have been writing special scripts to splatter this guestbook with their tiresome cant: the small test below aims to stop this by determining whether you're a human being or not (something you may have been wondering about anyway). Think of it like those dogs that sniff incoming hands to spot terminators.

Add your entry

Your name Your e-mail (Won't be shown) Your homepage title Your homepage URL Your location How did you find the page? Search engine E-mail from friend E-mail from idiot partner Web page Newspaper, magazine, etc Coincidence Magic Hot tip from a stranger in a bar I'm going through the whole Internet alphabetically Barry Your comments   Tick to hide your comments in secrecy    Unimpress-o-Matic Anti-Spam Bit Read the following passage and use your skill and judgment to answer the question.    / "This looks like a good place to kill twelve minutes."  "I'm writing to my MP." Tsk, of course; it has to be Friday, just before 4 give or take. Margret jabs Mil with a stick until he agrees they have to saunter to the estate where Mil acquires 38 (but puts two back) (not 8) bags of oven chips when Margret, with catastrophic accuracy, googlies 43 breville sandwich toasters in his direction which twinge his pride. All because he failed to mention her widely anticipated tattoo. They both pretend to have forgotten a shower curtain, the cause of the scuffle, so they can bring it up again later. Where did this take place?

Mil's Guestbook by Excellent Guestbooks Ltd, purveyors of things to The Weekly.