Blog Name: From the Side of the Page

Dear Doctor,

I am at my wit's end and don't know where else to turn, so naturally I've decided to share my personal psychiatric problems with the whole world, courtesy of your enormous column.

My problem is this: I seem to be unable to stop myself from "appropriating" other people's material, shuffling a couple of words around and passing it off as my own.

At first, it was just a bit of fun, the odd headline here or there, but then I moved on to sentences and soon I found myself lifting whole paragraphs in order to get a "hit".

Now my "dealer" has got me hooked on the British Medical Journal. I just can't help myself, as soon as I see an article on delusional beliefs, kleptomania or transferred possession, I just have to cut and paste it into my own work wholesale.

I don't think I can go on much longer without being caught in the act, and that could lead to a lawsuit, a massive fine or even being struck off by the GMC. Please help!

Yours Faithfully,
R Perfraud (Dr)

Dear Dr P,

You appear to be suffering from copyright theft, or plagiarism professionalism as we doctors call it. This is actually quite common in the medical profession and nothing to worry about.

Simply pass the blame to your sub-editors for missing out attributions and quotation marks and you can be assured that your dishonest conduct and plagiarising other people's work on multiple occasions will be reprimanded with nothing more than a slap on the wrist and a three-month suspension.

Next time, you should be much more careful not to get caught.

Yours laughing all the way to the bank,
Dr R Perfraud.

P.S. This blog is anonymous, isn't it? One can't be too careful when one commits an article to print.

Blog Name: Licensed to Thrill

Went into the office on Monday. M has a new receptionist, very nice. Can't think what her name is. Anyway, shagged her up against the photocopier, then went in to see M.

M is getting very irritable lately. Probably on her period. I wasn't really listening while she droned on about the need to cut costs, must stop smashing up cars, did I know how much it cost to compensate the inhabitants of small South American towns after I've blown them up with thermonuclear devices, I mean, dull, dull, DULL. Finally she got to the point and told me that some villain was trying to take over the world, could I hop on a plane for Frankfurt and stop him?

Well, I asked her where Frankfurt was and it turns out it's not anywhere hot and sunny, so I said bollocks, I only go to nice places with babes in bikinis. Then she really got annoyed, I mean, the bitch went totally hormonal. I tried to reason with her but she just screamed that I was a moronic pig. Anyway, I told her to go change her tampon or whatever it is that hysterical women do, and left her to it.

Went to see Q who said he had some new gadgets for me. No sign of my bloody i-phone though, apparently we still can't afford the contract. Still, at least he had my new Aston Martin with bullet proof stuff and big guns and the rear seat folds down into a double bed with mirrors on the ceiling and mink fur sheets and a condom dispenser (mental note, go to bank and get a sack of pound coins).

Also, he gave me a new laptop with Windows Vista on it. I asked him how it worked, he said he didn't know, in fact no one knew, then he took it away and gave me a pocket calculator. He assured me I could download porn on it, so I'm happy.

Finally, I was introduced to a fellow agent who will accompany me. I asked her name, she said “Rub my tits off” so I did. Next I knew, I was escorted out of the building. How was I supposed to know she was Russian?

Anyway, might need to get another job now. No point keeping this blog anonymous, the more people who know I'm available, the better. Maybe I should try ebay?

Blog Name; Never Gonna Give You Up!

Life has been so busy the past few months as I tried to climb my way up the greasy pole and smash the glass ceiling, I’ve barely had time to update my blog. Yet here I am, pin hammer poised to break the glass. Watch out America! Madam President is on her way!

People have said America is too frightened of smart women to ever vote for me and that I would never be President. They said I was delusional, grasping, living in a dream world. Well I proved them wrong. Look how well I’m doing?

I’m no racist but if anyone ever thought the US would vote for a black candidate, then they are the ones who are delusional. American Pop Idol yes, Presidency, no chance.

And the hype surrounding his campaign! I mean the man is in a fantasy land. Last night he gave a speech that claimed he’d won! Ha! What a fruit loop! Someone should tell him. I mean, it's hard to watch, isn't it? And when I mean someone, I mean someone in a white coat. No! No! Not that kind of white coat…Bill’s from Arkansas, not me! How dare you bring race into this campaign!

Anyway, put the poor man out of his misery. The stress has clearly gotten to him and he needs help. Clinical help.

Anyway, onwards to the Whitehouse. Again! But this time I’m in charge and the interns are nice college BOYS!

Now to get out of this room…I can't see a door and my arms are strangely tied around my body. That stylist they got me; she really is gonna have to go before I win the Presidency. All these buckles and straps...who does she think I am? Sarah Jessica Parker?

Bill! Bill! Sheesh! Who let Bill near those nurses? Bill...get me outta here, I've a campaign to run!