Low life | 12 November 2011

The book launch party was terrific. To those who put it on, and to everyone who came, I am a beggar even in thanks. A salute, too, to the 200-plus of you who entered the joke competition and to the 15 winners, every one of whom was the life and soul. A special mention in dispatches as well for the lovely Katrina from Paisley, a competition winner, who selflessly assisted when the first casualty came in.

This was Sharon. Later I heard reports that the editor had surprised her getting to grips with one of the competition winners on the deputy editor’s desk. I don’t believe it. She was far too drunk for shenanigans. There’s drunk and falling sideways, and there’s drunk and toppling forwards, but Sharon was drunk and going over backwards or sitting down on chairs that weren’t there. So we can dismiss that one as a baseless rumour.

I’ve also heard reports that Trev offered illegal drugs to a competition winner, and the competition winner is said to have declined them on the grounds that a) he was a detective sergeant in the Metropolitan Police, and b) that in his opinion any drug offered for sale in London these days is going to be pretty rubbish. (This competition winner’s joke was so gross I’d substituted a joke of my own and put the original letter in the shredder to avert a scandal.) But Trev is so tight-fisted with his drugs he never offers them to anybody, certainly not as a friendly gesture, and he never offered any to his host that night, so far as I am aware. So, again, I think we can safely nip that one in the bud.

After the party, those of us who were left clustered on the pavement like Custer’s Last Stand debating what to do with Sharon.