When I am dead and opened, you will find Penelope Keith written on my heart.

A couple of good new graffiti seen this week. Intriguing, rather than funny. One, in a pub near Oxford Circus:

'I am a Turkish Man.'

Now, obviously I realise that there's an unsavoury explanation for why someone might write that in a pub loo - but this was the whole message. No phone number, no date or time. Which is what makes me hope this wasn't an advertisement, it was simply an act of self-expression. Maybe even self-affirmation. 'Whatever else they say, Hasim, they can't take away who you are. Yeah, write it on the wall. Write it big, write it proud. Let the whole world know. I... am a Turkish Man.'

The other, in a pub near Old Street. (No, I'm not always in the pub. Yes, I am sometimes in the pub.)

'Routledge till I die.'

Well, this one isn't really intriguing any more, because spoilsport Google informs me that the author was probably swearing a solemn oath of eternal allegiance to Wayne...

... and not, as I originally assumed, Patricia.

The one I do know is an old joke is '...with every packet'.

Good graffiti I've just seen:

In one hand: 'Free Palestine' 

Underneath: 'I'll see what I can do.'

Apologies if this is an old chestnut that's been around since Nigel Rees was a little boy, but it's new on me. Talking of the old chestnuts, though, I recently saw a van on which someone had written in the dust on the back 'Also available in white.' So what? Well, the van was blue. I can't decide whether this was a deliberate joke, or the act of someone so conditioned to write that phrase whenever he sees a dirty van he's lost any sense of what it actually means. It's funny either way, but different kinds of funny. 

Graffiti on the lead roof of Carfax Tower in Oxford.

• I love London!
• Jenny loves Sandy loves Grace
• We are the world champions of the world Italy
• Sacred Turtles rock
• Tibet is, was, and will always be part of CHINA
• Salut les Anglais!
• I feel I am a God.
  

I'm fine, and broadly speaking I'm fine.

Happy New Year. May 2006 be full of the sorts of things you like, with barely any of the sorts of things you don't like.

Graffiti in Starbucks:

*Hello
*Everybody
*Hows life and hows your life in general

So many questions... Why did you separate the 'hello' from the 'everybody'? What is the mystic purpose of the asterisks? How are you hoping for 'everybody' to respond to your biro-on-coffeeshop query? And most of all... why the last six words? What's the difference between how life is, and how life is in general? Were you really worried that asking 'everyone' 'how life is' was a bit too specific?


Ha. See how I pick on only the loftiest and most worthy targets to bring down with my mighty gift of sarcasm. That's taught her a lesson!

Attention, pigs of Surrey.

I saw the least committed piece of political graffiti ever on Embankment yesterday.

It read 'Simon Hollis is Innocent. Tell the Surrey Pigs.' Which is pretty lame to start with. How are we good people of Embankment supposed to tell the Surrey Pigs? Chinese Whispers? A megaphone relay? I can't help thinking that, rather than rely on one of us bumping into a Surrey pig at a cocktail party, Simon Hollis's defenders might have done better to scrawl their message of defiance in Godalming, Frimley or Dorking; where a passing Surrey pig could have learnt the surprising news of Simon's innocence at first hand.

But this isn't what really makes me question the writer's commitment, so much as what it was written on. A bus-shelter. Nothing wrong with that- it's not Nelson's column exactly, but it does the job. But...

On a pink heart-shaped post-it note. Oh dear. Simon, it might be a good idea to acquire a taste for prison food. I don't think they're really trying.

Still, I suppose I noticed it. So, if anyone reading this happens to be a Surrey pig, listen up. I have it on excellent authority that Simon Hollis is innocent. There. Duty done.