Say Hello Not Goodbye

I wish I could absquatulate. At tonight's party I was feeling a tad jaded. Not really 'on form'. I really could have done with just sloping off into the evening's embers, to the distant cries of, 'Where's Adrian? He was here a moment ago. I bet he's only gone and left without saying bye again.' 

However, if you haven't a reputation for doing this then leaving without saying goodbye will arouse suspicion and fear. 'Shit. Where's Adrian? Oh no, something terrible must have happened. He's probably fallen down a dog or something. Maria, phone the police. Mike and Xavier, get your jodhpurs on – we've got ourselves a man hunt!'

Acquiring a reputation for absquatualtion would take time, but whilst spending three quarters of an hour tonight saying goodbye I come up with a solution. A business card explaining your wishes to be a potential absquatulater and imploring people not to worry if you suddenly disappear later. This could be handed to people at the start of the evening. Perhaps including a picture of Ralph Little on it for no reason whatsoever.

How To Avoid The Agonies Of The Communal Dinner Bill

The old birthday pub communual dinner dilemma. Fifteen odd people. Most people will drink but a few won't. Some will have the house ale. Some will have the £43 Chablis Bulbous Meredith. Some will have starters. Some won't. Some will have the 20 oz steak with alchemy sauce and others will have the leek risotto. Some will have pudding. Some will share pudding. Some will have no pudding.

So when it comes to the bill there's a lot to sort out and there's always the worry that the bill will just be shared equally, which means if you have only had the leek risotto and lime soda you will either grin and bear it or hope somebody else will highlight the injustice, rather than you having to.

It may be controversial to do so but to avoid any of these worries, and to ease the hassles of sorting the bill out, the 'birthdayee' should have little business card size information to slip into their guest's hands on arrival at the venue – bullet point rules for the evening so everyone knows where they stand. Maybe lighten the mood of the card by including a picture of a baby muntjac.

Poetry Guest Spot

A guest spot this week – a poem penned by me old mucker Dr Ben Gurney-Smith, spending his Friday's off work in deepest Norfolk.

Ode to Diss

I don't dismiss this place I'm in
It's distal to diss way and that,
And while things are as they are
It's got a distance left to run

It's where I spend my Fridays
In cafes and swimming pools
And disseminating my bad poetry
disconnected from my working tools

Friday is market day and all discounted goods are here,
It's 'ten for this and dis for that'
It's bargain time my dear.

It's tempting to get all 'diss and dat'
Like the other rapper dissy rascal and his bad dyslexic rhyme
His USP is to slag people off
And get their shirty backs up.
But I'm more 'diss charming man'
And for now I'm doing fine.

The Wrong David

Met an estate agent today called David. What a coincidence! I have recently written a new song entitled, 'David – he's gonna takin' me to the party' and there I was meeting an actual David. As we shook hands I felt a strong urge to break out into song – straight in at the chorus – but of course I didn't go through with it.

He was about to show us round a house – not take me to a party. If I had called the song, 'David – he's gonna showin' us round a house' then it would have been fine to sing it, but I didn't call the song that. I called it 'David – he's gonna takin' me to the party'. Never mind. I suppose there's plenty more David's in the sea.