Today I woke up with a start. I’d just had a minor disagreement with Gary Kemp who was, I think, jealous that his younger brother and fellow Spandau ballet dancer, Martin, had invited me to his apartment with a view to naughtiness. Luckily, there was a cocktail bar next door so Martin and I decamped and did some light snogging on a beautiful velour banquette but as per, just as it was getting interesting, Martin faded and I woke with my head buried in the pillow. I have to say, it’s an improvement on the night before’s dream when I’d won a competition to spend the night with Alan Bennett in a cheap motel. Alan didn’t have the charms of Martin plus he had a very ugly bedroom and I couldn’t bring myself to slide between his bri-nylon sheets, pyjamas or no pyjamas so…..This morning, I spent an hour flat on my back at Pilates with some very ugly bunions flapping around my ears, the property of the woman behind me. I suppose the weight of said bunions must have made it quite hard to control her legs. Anyway, during the oyster movement, she trumped. I have resolved to park my mat elsewhere.