THE DAY I STOPPED CARING ABOUT THE GULLS...

The world is coming to end...at least that's what The Independent says on every front page.

I'm tired of it.

Before the day I stopped caring about the gulls, I worried about the poor gulls getting strangled in those stupid bits of plastic that connect cans of drink. I understood they died horribly. One published photo of a Herring Gull entangled and everyone tore them apart - like they were the worlds greatest enemy..

Since the day I stopped caring about the gulls, I leave the rings whole and think instead that each gull who roots through my rubbish will - if it's lucky - twist itself into a brave new look. Wearing it's new plastic appendage, it will be loved by Alexander McQueen and feted by Vogue. Elton John will invite it to his birthday party and buy copies of it's cd for all his friends.

And then that gull will thank me...