Creepy goings-on in my neighbourhood:

William Shakespeare’s tombstone is set for a makeover - despite bearing a curse against those who move it.

Eek. Is there a history of sadness surrounding it? Deaths of would-be grave robbers? Terrible illnesses befalling those who allowed the tombstone to be altered? Ghostly sightings by teenagers on late-night dalliances? Well, no.

The stone, which renovators say will not be moved, warns: “Blessed be the man that spares these stones/ And cursed be he who moves my bones.”

It’s cursed because it says it is. Shakespeare wouldn’t lie.

I’m getting a sign for my front door saying “All chaps who enter, not called Tony / kiss my ass, become a pony.”. If I get famous people will believe it, and only Tonys will live here for evermore.