blasphemy and vasectomy

There's very little on telly at the moment, although Superstar provides, at the very least, plenty of amusing instances of taking the Lord's name in vain (vain being very definitely the word for these preening would-be Saviours). 'Just join the other Jesuses on the stairway', says Amanda Holden, who also uses such happy phrases as 'all our Jesuses' and 'your favourite Jesus', either of which might serve as the title of a spin-off. Meanwhile, Biblical scholars can rack their brains trying to work out the Scriptural relevance of the various chart hits the Sons of God are obliged to bellow out. And indeed, after a moment of psychic adjustment, it isn't hard to see Him serenading Mary Magdalene with Roxanne, or wailing 'I can't get no satisfaction' while writhing in agony on the cross.

One day, perhaps Islam will reach this pitch of sophistication. I can hardly wait.

Saturday provided that rare thing - a night out in Brentwood. We attempted without success to get into the Gardener's Arms, once a dive, but now so swanky that it can afford three doormen with instructions to bar anyone wearing trainers. I didn't even consider that what I was wearing could be precisely described as 'trainers', but it was no time to argue about the niceties of footwear classification with large men who no doubt had firmly-held views on the subject. We moved on to the Swan, with a disgusted Richard S surveying the swarms of TOWIE-tourists and proclaiming Brentwood to be 'shit'.

For some reason - maybe some kind of glitch on Facebook - I thought that Richard had three daughters. He maintains, and I have no real reason to doubt him, that he only has two. As if to prove it, he gave Stuart and myself a detailed account of his vasectomy: 'I'll always remember the smell of my own cock burning', he reminisced, misty-eyed (our eyes were watering by now, too). I hadn't imagined on leaving the house that evening that I would become so intimately acquainted with the ins and outs of Richard's scrotum, but life is full of surprises.

There was a curry. Kevin memorably said that Alex's fully-laden plate looked like the Olympics opening ceremony...