Most expensive item of clothing. A joke.

A reefer jacket from Reiss. Gran picked up the tab thanks Gran! Shouldn't think she'll read that - she thinks downloading is something to do with the trade unions.

Favourite music

Vordhosbn. Blau to the sound, the sound of one hand clapping. You'll need a course of antibiotics afterwards though. Kings of Leon, great bunch of lads. LTJ Bukem. Crumbs Hroo, what DO you sound like? The Straits' Brothers in Arms.

What people say when I start talking

Where are you from? or You're well posh, aren't you? I like to affect the mannerisms of an exiled Bulgarian prince privately schooled abroad, although knowing my luck my ancestors were probably Irish horse thieves. 'his voice was technically unexciting, lacking in dynamic range and trapped in a slightly camp Oxbridge accent ... [On the other hand,] 'it was undeniably arresting to the ear. The listener was invited to share his boyish enthusiasms and fascinations. And there was, of course, that quite wicked sense of humour, made all the more mischievous by the artless way in which the barbs were delivered.'

Scared of

Failing. The AIDS virus. Failing while infected with the AIDS virus. Now those are big worries. I don't think we should indulge people who say they have phobias; only encourages them. God I'm going to make a great father. And sooner than I expect, probably.

A cautionary tale

Went to a barbeque school reunion thing. Was being charming and funny in that affecting guileless way I have. The culprit: a bottomless supply of vodka and cranberry juice and ice. Remember nothing beyond midnight. Cut to 4am. I'm face down on a lawn, a lawn which had emphatically not played host to the party I had attended. Am roused by two concerned policemen, younger than me. No, I have not taken any drugs, and if I had I wouldn't admit it to you. Be an angel and give me a lift home, yeah? Get up. Drop something. Hole in my pockets? No. Ladies and gents of the jury, I had shit myself. By an incredible stroke of good fortune I wasn't wearing the tight leg keyhole satin lo-rise etc I normally house my you-know-whats in but a pair of flapping voluminous boxers, so the dung - and happily it was good hearty lovingly reared corn-fed free range granary dung - fell harmlessly down and out of my wide bottomed ravixes and I got my lift without carrying out an inadvertent dirty protest on the cop car upholstery. A nice post script: the thread of life was pretty worn when the partygiver rang me the next day. That's nice I thought the Jayster is worried about his ole pal. Not an bally bit of it. Instead I had to resist a long and largely circumstantial rapsheet the charges including shrieking like a banshee, making matchwood of an antique (yeah, ie. woodworm-ridden) chair by breaking it against the kitchen wall and generally bringing myself into disrepute. At this point I should admit that the chair debacle, if it happened at all, a fact I will continue to deny in the face of all evidence and witnesses, could not be said to have been without precedent. At a New Year's Eve party at another, more lackadaisical friend's house the previous winter, I had mistaken a Sylvanian Families stool (as in the piece of furniture dung fans) for something capable of bearing ten stone of sheer will. When the spindly bastard gave way under the first ounce of pressure I clutched at the nearest thing to hand and soon found myself on the floor, the curtain rail having dealt me a resounding crack to the base of my skull. Things are a bit hazy after that. And before and during if I'm honest.

Star quality

The incident I've given above led Kings of Leon frontman Caleb Followill to write the lines I'm passed out in your garden I'm in I can't get off so... Soft I'd pop myself in your body I'd come into your party, but I'm soft. The song's title might be said to refer to my cock when after an hour of exhortations, promises and thinly veiled threats I get a girl back to her house and can't get it up. Sticking into the mattress like a javelin, which to the best of my knowledge is not a song, describes the state of my cock at 7.38am by which time the girl is fed up. Then I feed her up good and proper. Well, two times out of three at least.

Hometown

Hertfordshire

Occupation

Hydrocephalic therapist

Relationship status

Single and at large

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