Islington Council is responsible for the road surface but has not yet repaired it. That should finally happen in the next few weeks, which will be welcome news and not just for bus users given that the potholes along Beaumont Rise have been pretty bad for quite a while now. I've previously reported some of them over this summer, but apart from the occasional partial patch repair in a couple of places, the overall road has been left in a very poor state.

With a bit of luck the bus problems may ensure the comprehensive repairs that have otherwise been missing.

The book, which I discovered courtesy of my growing niche book collection, is appositely dedicated to "All poultry judges and exhibitors in the interests of the poultry fancy". The admiring quotes at the front of the book also tell us that its author is, at least according to The Poultry World, "the most arresting and provocative writer on poultry". He also wrote a preface to The Ceylon Poultry Club Year Book, 1934. Quite the expert it would seem.

He was also a man that was not modest about the role of poultry detection in the happiness of mankind for he selected this Huxley quote to appear at the start of the book: "There is no alleviation for the sufferings of mankind except veracity of thought and of action, and the resolute facing of the world as it is when the garment of make-believe by which pious hands have hidden its uglier features is stripped off".

The various chapters are titled:

• What faking is
• The psychology of faking
• Modern tendencies in faking
• The detection of faking
• Darkening the plumage of buff and red varieties
• Dyeing the plumage
• Bleaching the plumage of white varieties
• Faking leg colour
• Other forms of faking
• Notes on the chemicals used in faking

But best of all is Scott's foreword which manages to work into an introduction on poultry faking Socrates, Galileo, Voltaire, Neitzsche and DH Lawrence (who was, Scott says, "harassed and persecuted by a flock of moronic smuthounds"). Impressive. Though not quite as impressive as Scott's line in insults such as when he complains of "the pseudo-scientific Hogan cult, with all its blowsy jargon; its crapulous fundament of snide anatomy; its noisy and prolific drool of whim-wham".

A good read.

As with its predecessor, the book is a slim volume, with full colour reproduction of the covers of the 50 books it mentions. Some of the titles cover highly niche specialisms (such as Thermal movements in the upper floor of a multi-storey car park), some are rather eccentric title choices (such as Children are wet cement) and some leave you suspecting that they were deliberately given a weird title just to catch your eye (such as Eat your house).

Both this book and its predecessor are at the popular end of the odd book titles market as it were: short, colourful coffee table type books that if purchased at original cover prices are rather pricey. The more serious end of this little publishing market is Bizarre Books, which has no colour and few illustrations but is crammed with hundreds of titles. It also has a much heavier concentration on older titles, so side-stepping those which you suspect were deliberately given odd titles and instead containing many books whose titles at the time would have seemed normal but the passage of time has turned them into amusing choices of words.

All three of the titles are available very cheaply second-hand, however, so there is no need to worry too much about which you will find the most amusing.

Baboon Metaphysics includes Did Lewis Carrol visit Llandudno? which I reviewed earlier this year and also one of the many titles from Philip M Parker, the man whose automated systems have produced over 200,000 books.

You can buy Baboon Metaphysics and other implausibly titled books from Amazon.

The essentials of the plot (murder, people on the run, family angst) are commonly seen in many thrillers, but The Clouded Yellow is not only done with panache, it also has the refreshing change of being based in England rather than, like so many thrillers we get to see, America.

It gets close to being in the class of The 39 Steps and it is a refreshing change to have characters flee to Newcastle and then chases across the northern English hills rather than yet another American state and yet another American landscape.

Kenneth Moore is superbly understated in the film, saying few lines and appearing only infrequently on screen and yet somehow projecting a rounded character whose mental attitude the viewer can completely grasp. An excellent example of how quality acting does not need lengthy scenes or complicated special effects, and indeed can shine all the better without either.

If you buy the film on DVD make sure to get the most recent (2010) version as the 2008 DVD release had many scenes missing, including the crucial first scene which sets up Trevor Howard's character for the whole film.

You can buy The Clouded Yellow from Amazon here.

Comments for or against the application must be submitted by 2nd September to planning or Sarah Ricketts, Planning Department, London Borough of Islington, 222 Upper Street, London, N1 1XR. The application's reference number is P101570.

The diversion has been puzzling me because there is no sign of why it is in place. At first I hoped it was because Beaumont Rise might be able to get some major resurfacing and lose its crown as Queen of Islington's Potholes (a crown Stroud Green Road has now ceeded). No sign of any roadworks even several weeks on though.

So I asked Transport for London (TfL), who replied admirably quickly - saying they are not aware of any diversions in place on the 210. Perhaps then it is a case of signs being left up by mistake? TfL are investigating further and for the moment the Beaumont Rise stops remain closed.

Sat looking out through the windows you get a great view of the impressive building above Baker Street station. Though the station was opened in 1863, the building dates from 1912 and save for a few aerials on the roof it is only at the ground level that is has obvious signs of modernisation. Round the side of the building is Transport for London's Lost Property Office, which last year celebrated its 75th anniversary. During that time it has seen a range of bizarre items lost by the travelling public. My favourite is the lawnmower. In 2008-9 36,852 books passed through its doors too, making it busy than many a public library.

My attention was taken away from the view by the case of the invisible diner.

Two of us had gone to the Pizza Express. We'd asked for a table for two. We'd ordered two drinks, two starters and two main courses. And then the waiter stared expectantly. Pause. More expectant staring. More pause, before he said, "Is that it? You don't want to order any more food?". Followed promptly by him placing a third seat at the table, as if there was an invisible extra diner who, if they weren't going to have any food ordered should at least get a place to sit.

Anyway, that's 11 down and 117 to go (though eagle-eyed readers may have noticed that I'm resolutely refusing to believe that the number of Pizza Expresses in London may be changing; after all if the total were going up quicker than I'm going round...).