SOME people overdo it with drinks or drugs. Others have a penchant for pills, while a few individuals never know when to stop gambling.

But Ron Sheppard of Malvern seems to be a complete one-off. For it would appear that he's got a compulsive wedding disorder.

Actually, Ron, I wish you all the best with your eighth marriage. I sincerely hope you've found Miss Right this time.

Your wedding albums must now be so numerous that I imagine the nuptials equivalent of the Natural History Museum has been set aside to house all that marital memorabilia.

What with wedding photographs stretching back to 1966, it's a wonder this collection hasn't gone on a national tour.

So let's see. The first time Ron said "I do" to Margaret, Mankind had yet to walk on the moon, computers was the stuff of science fiction and the Rolling Stones were top of the charts with Let's Spend The Night Together.

And you did Ron, you did.

Then, in 1973, you wed Jeanette. That was the glam rock era, so I bet the photos are a faded frenzy of Concorde lapels and cheesecloth. Heaven forbid that your home is ever burgled, Ron - never mind the valuables, what if the raiders got hold of those incriminating pictures?

You could be blackmailed!

Then came Lesley, Kathy, Sue, Usha and Wan. But Wan wasn't the one, was she Ron?

Nevertheless, Ron, I wish you every happiness with Weng, your new love. Let's hope this Brideshead Revisited brings about the eternal bliss you've been searching for all these years.

But if the worst comes to the worst, perhaps by then, scientists will have found a cure. Maybe patches would do the trick - you know, like the ones people use to give up smoking.

Forgive me, Ron. It's just a few observations from a mere amateur who has only said the magic words a paltry twice.

Vote fraud fear alive

THE Government has brushed aside fears about postal voting.

And right behind them come the inevitable jobsworths bending over backwards to gloss over the recent events in Birmingham.

A couple of points. First, the Second City scandals show how simple it is to create forgeries. Second, although the disgusting individuals have been dealt with, there's no guarantee whatsoever that there will not be a repetition of crimes that threaten the very bedrock of our democracy.

A Birmingham candidate who challenged the Government over this has been criticised by regional media. For its part, the best Whitehall can offer is a vague promise of reform after the General Election.

But if that is necessary, then why not before - surely if something needs reforming it is deemed to be at fault?

The matter should be addressed sooner rather than later.

Fame from the chip papers is one thing...

MARY Dhonau relates a humorous incident while out canvassing.

The Lib-Dem prospective parliamentary candidate for Worcester tells of how a householder had easily recognised her "because of the amount of chips eaten off one person."

I sympathise, Mary. Years ago, while working for an evening newspaper in the north of England, I would regularly detect my grease-soaked byline beneath cod and batter fragments.

However, it could be worse. Back then, in this region of Lancashire, outside privies could still be found at the bottom of the path of many a home. And one day, it was my dubious privilege to use the facilities of such a convenience.

But imagine my horror upon entering the hallowed walls only to be confronted by a sheaf of neatly torn newspapers attached to a piece of string hanging from a nail in the rafters.

And there, in full view, was a headline and the reporter's name underneath "... by John Phillpott."

I will leave it to the reader's imagination to speculate on the ghastly fate of that scrap of newsprint, condemned to first hang, then to be drawn, possibly quartered and then... aagh. It's a death worse than fate.