I bet we all do it. Whether it’s sat at a bus stop or waiting in a queue. We all love to watch the world go by. Looking at different people and what they’re up to. Looking out of the window when we’re travelling. I suppose that’s why the window seat is the most popular in planes.

I always try to get a seat by the window when I’m in a café or restaurant. OK, people can see me I suppose but it’s a great way to spend time.

I went to an Italian restaurant with my wife and children the other day. We walked in and it was empty – the waiter greeted us but my wife and children decided they all needed the toilet. I was left to choose a table.

Naturally, I chose one by the window, sat down and started to watch. I saw women struggling with shopping, couples walking hand in hand, red buses, cyclists, people laughing, people hurrying, people strolling. All in their own little world.

Then I heard a rumbling sound to my left. Well, it was more a rattling sound. Maybe it was a trundling sound. I wondered what it could be. It actually sounded quite ominous.

I sat up in my seat expecting something to happen. Some sort of collision or crash. But the sound went on for a few seconds and was becoming louder and louder. Then, suddenly, a boy on a skateboard came into view. His arms were flailing as he was trying to keep balance and his face contorted in horror. He was being chased closely by two other boys who had similar horrified expressions – no doubt trying to stop him.

Then, just as suddenly, he disappeared from view and the trundling noise faded away to nothing.

I wonder if he’s still got the skateboard.

I dealt with a case recently in which a 13 year old boy was being prosecuted for racially aggravated threatening behaviour against a Chinese man and his wife. The boy didn’t turn up so the trial proceeded in his absence.

The Chinese man gave his evidence through an interpreter.

‘He called me a fucking Chinese chinky,’ said the witness.

‘Tell the court about the incident when you were in your car,’ enquired the prosecutor.

The Chinese man stepped out of the witness box so he could be seen, took a deep breath and said, ‘He came running up to the car and shouted ‘fucking Chinese chinky! Wanker!’’ He emphasised the last word by screwing up his face and making masturbatory gestures towards the magistrates to make sure they understood what he was saying.

Needless to say the 13 year old boy was convicted and a warrant issued for his arrest.

Another day in the Criminal Justice System. But I don’t let it bother me. That night, at home, I was sat in front of the TV, feet up, drinking wine and laughing out loud to Little Britain.

I don’t usually comment on news (except on my blog ‘A spokesman said….’ at www.headlinenews.blog.co.uk but that’s reserved for humour and this isn’t funny) but I feel I just have to say something about the idiotic and crass decision of George Bush to conduct an enquiry into his own failings in dealing with the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina.

In fact, I don’t even have to comment it’s so ridiculous.

I suppose this means that Saddam Hussein and Slobodan Milosevic will be able to conduct their own trials.

Before I met my wife, I played the National Lottery only occasionally. I picked random numbers every week so I wasn’t fussed if I forgot to do it. My wife, on the other hand, did the same numbers every week.

When we met, we continued more or less along the same vein. She’d do her numbers religiously and I’d do it if I fancied it.

Then we had children. To celebrate our first born we did a line of numbers that were our daughter’s birthday, weight and time of birth. Obviously we had to carry that on every week. Then we had another daughter – we had to do the same for her. And we couldn’t be any different for our third daughter.

It’s not just Saturdays though. We have to make sure we do it for Wednesdays too. I’m now quite a creature of habit – on my way home on Friday nights I stop and ‘get the lottery’. I couldn’t bear it if I didn’t get the numbers and they came up.

Except last night I forgot. We had friends round. I was more concerned that they had enough food and drink. And the lottery machine was out of order – I made a mental note to do it first thing this morning.

Except I forgot. And didn’t remember until 7pm tonight. Ten years ago, when numbers didn’t matter, I wouldn’t have bothered. But instead I found myself in a mad rush to the Co-Op. Which had a long queue. And my lottery slip was wrinkled.

But I did it just in time. Handed over my £6 and got my ticket.

Guess what? I didn’t win.