MY ONE CENTS...

Is 1.99 fooling anyone? It's £2. That's what you're paying there. Two pounds, two dollars, two euros. We're wise to the .99, now, friends. Let it go. Stop clogging up my pockets with your foul pennies.

When I say "my pockets" I'm actually using shorthand. What I really mean is my pockets, my desk, that drawer beside my bed, that strange little saucer by the door, my cupboard, any board game lacking a playing piece, the back of my sofa, and any other flat surface, partially hidden nook, or vessel that I can ignore in the general, day-to-day living at Klown College.

The pennies are gradually taking over the world by sheer weight of numbers. They're the insects of the monetary system. Even after a nuclear holocaust, there will still be the pennies, scrabbling around, filling our wallets and purses with their coppery misery.

"How much for the roast, irradiated rat?"

"One ninety-nine, guv."

"Eurgh!"

This has been the 200th Krusty entry, incidentally. And, hey - no change.