On page 3 of today’s Guardian are five doodles by celebrities and analyses of their personalities by a graphologist unaware of their identities. The names of the artists are revealed upside down at the end of the article.

I took one look at the second sketch, without reading any of the article, and identified it correctly as drawn by Charles Kennedy.

My rather weak defence is that the picture includes a David Bowie LP and CK is a Bowie fan. But the fact that I know that is incriminating in itself.

It’s Robert Burns’s birthday today so we were discussing haggis at work (including the pros and cons of Marks & Spencers microwaveable haggis). I’d never had haggis and had every intention of postponing that experience for some time to come, particularly once we had discussed the basic recipe.

Off I trotted for lunch only to discover that the topical catering service had surved up “haggis, neeps and tatties” for lunch. I took up the offer of a taste and decided I would risk it.

To begin with the haggis was quite spicy, countered suitably by the mashed potato. But I soon found myself munching more slowly and taking smaller mouthfuls. My stomach churned at this unexpected and unfamiliar meal and I kept trying to put from my mind our earlier conversation about the ingredients. It wasn’t that the taste was unpleasant, but the consistency made it hard going.

Eventually I finished it off. I didn’t get where I am today, or indeed to the size I am today, by leaving food on my plate. There are different recipes for haggis and I’ll be more suited to some than others. I might try another next year, but don’t tell my stomach just yet.

A chap waiting with me for a rail replacement bus service (my third of the day) at Edinburgh Waverley this evening was wearing a long navy overcoat. Presumably because of the similarity between this and GNER uniform, he kept getting asked questions about the buses and seemed quite bemused.

Having failed in my CNPS during the previous two bus journeys today, I have positioned myself in the second best number plate viewing spot on the top deck.

Comments are down, so an email from Simon:

> 3. Except we’re still subjects rather than citizens.

Is untrue as we ceased to be subjects in 1983 under the British Nationality act of 1981.

Simon is right that we are legally citizens; serves me right for repeating a hackneyed old comment. But we are still subjects of HM too.

The British National Act 1981 does, though, serve to reinforce my reason #2 with its very first clauses:

(1) A person born in the United Kingdom after commencement, or in a qualifying territory on or after the appointed day, shall be a British citizen if at the time of the birth his father or mother is–

(a) a British citizen; or

(b) settled in the United Kingdom or that territory.

That said, these may be more like Australian style “affirmation” ceremonies. So you don’t actually get anything out of it except perhaps a “Well done, you got to 18” certificate and some cheese and pineapple nibbles.