I don't know about you, but we've been watching Comic Relief - even daring to take it to the wire and continue viewing during silent reading ....... Do not tell the higher powers, otherwise I shall be compromising the biscuit upgrade - or something.

Lunch today was a most edifying experience. I had opted for some kind of Indian chicken dish, complete with saffron rice and something that tasted like a yoghurt sauce. Yes, quite. Or rather, no, quite. A Newtonian walked past me with a vaguely empty plate.

'Sir! Look! This is a chicken lung!"

"Delightful, F***x."

"And look at this! Here's the .......... etc., etc. "

By the time he had finished his explanation I felt as if I'd been prepared for my finals in veterinary science, or at least some kind of degree in ornithology from Bangladesh Uni, and tried, rather unsuccessfully, to plough through my chosen dish. And as one who was brought up to finish everything on one's plate I fear it was somewhat challenging. Mr Music-Price walked by, to whom I took the opportunity of giving him my comments about my selection, to which he retorted, rather too smugly, I thought, that 'the fishcakes were lovely'. I bet they were. He continued to smile smugly throughout choir practice, too, as I watched his contented features through the mirror of the organ as I completed my weekly sight-reading marathon.

Still, the 'Red Nose Pizza' tonight was very agreeable, the 'red nose' in question being a slice of peperami. Do you not enjoy these wonderful sobriquets? 'Henry IV Part II Noisette Potatoes' is one of my all-time favourites. What a load of pretentious twaddle. It's like 'hand-fried crisps': very painful, no doubt. 'Deep-fried cod in egg-based batter, served on a base of Irish-originated parallelograms, with a melee of pea.'

I'm coming over all cynical. It's the biscuits, you know. Flapjacks would have made all the difference.

Goodnight.