I am going to do something very, very serious to this heap of technological junk. It's just taken me eight minutes to log on to this site, and if it does that again then, as Mr Wilkins (MA, Cantab) threatened in every Jennings story, I'll, I'll, ........ corwumph! (In fact I shall do rather more than corwumph, even though when used as a verb it does sound rather ominous.)

There was a whole load of nightlife in da clurb tonight, and it was indeed interesting to see one very fine couple doing the tango. I must admit that they did it rather well, even if the music was not wholly appropriate to that particular form of dance. I was then invited to join one half of the 'coople' as what's-her-name will insist on pronouncing the word in doing the foxtrot, an invitation which I declined with apparent eagerness. All this was going on while others were engaged in a rather extreme game of 'Twister', so you can picture the scene. Solent reading came as a great relief.

Two of our members have fracture their collar-bones. They informed me, when I arrived at their dorm to turn the lights out that they had broken the record for doing up a shirt one-handedly. I made the inevitable 'joke', to which another member of the dorm drily told me that 'that joke has already been cracked, sir'. (Yeah, but that one hadn't, had it?!)

On being asked whether I would like to hear the joke of the century, I was asked why the brick cried. Answer, apparently, is that it's father was up the wall and its mother was round the bend.

Night night.