29/12/07 Hitched into Glasgow with Christine, Muriel and Muriel's current best friend, Jackie, in order to spend vouchers I received from Dad (care of Christine) and Colette. A pleasant afternoon's browsing was, unfortunately ruined by the sight of Nina Kelly's half-baked pseudo-biography 'Hamilton Coe: The Power of Insinuation' in Waterstone's 'Pitiful Lives' section. I'd assumed that most copies of Nina's so-called assessment of my investigative career had been remaindered and pulped.The fact that this one remained in circulation was as upsetting as its misplacement in a section dedicated to the profit crazed exponents of misery memoirs. Naturally, I informed an assistant, expecting her to take it upstairs to the True Crime section. As I was leaving, though, I turned to see her replacing the book exactly where I found it. When I remonstrated against her laziness, she said, "But that's where it goes. It's on the code." She wouldn't be swayed by the argument that the book's subject, even one who's slandered by its contents, should know its intended genre better than any abritrarily applied code. "I'm sorry," she insisted. "It's a Pitiful Life and we've been especially told to keep them apart from the other books." Obviously, I couldn't just leave it there, so I was forced to replace the Baden-Powell biography I intended to buy, instead spending my Christmas voucher on a hysterical diatribe against my very existence.