Hacking

I was shocked in Carphone warehouse to discover that I had been hacked. The papers deal in minor celebs such as McCartney, Morgan and Cameron. I myself considered myself to be above this sort of thing. Who would want to listen to a lot of winging from an old actor, his agent and British Gas? How wrong I was. To think someone may have listened in to my negotiations over that cactus with the garden centre. That someone would have accessed the intimate details of my caravan rental agreement. A third party may have eavesdropped on my delicate and deeply personal chiropody problems.

While all this didn't make the front pages, and I was not besieged by hordes of reporters, it still invades my privacy. One wonders what else they had been reading? My mail? My email? My Internet? God forbid they had found my todo list, which has comments about people in the industry, many of which make more than a passing reference to medieval torture.