Once I was a cabinet minister. But as I enter my 70s, I find it hard to accept no one is interested in me any more. So I've decided to publish a risque diary to indulge my attention-seeking behaviour.
The idea of a journal began when my wife and I booked a cruise of the Norwegian fjords. It had been a while since I danced and it occurred to me I had better practise if I wasn't to embarrass myself on the ship. In the Yellow Pages, I discovered someone called Mr Wonderful was running tea-dancing sessions in a place called Wandsworth.
I checked the map and found Wandsworth was some far-off suburb of London. I motored up from our Cornish estate, stayed overnight at my Chelsea pied-a-terre and took a bus in the direction of Mr Wonderful. The journey was remarkable because there were some funny black people on board speaking in an accent I couldn't decipher. How England has changed.
The dancing was held in an old bingo hall and offered me the perfect opportunity to patronise and insult the lower middle-classes. I also managed to patronise Mr Wonderful, who turned out to be an Indian fellow and didn't recognise me. How my wife and I chuckled about the day's events later.
My adventures had given me a taste for travel and I found myself in a place called Tooting. I don't know why so many British people are so keen on going abroad: travelling to Tooting was just like being in south-east Asia, as there were so many Indians, Pakistanis and Bangladeshis on the streets.
You might like to know that my member is still fully functional. I went to the doctor to request some Viagra and he told me in no uncertain manner I had no need of it. Still, with my priapism stirred, I decided to make a tour of London's underwear emporia. Some of the items on sale are shocking and I was happy to buy some lacy thongs from Agent Provocateur. I also dropped into Bradley's and saw the sort of negligee a Saudi prince might give his mistress.
I entered an establishment called Spearmint Rhino and a charming filly danced naked for me. I engaged her in conversation and found her to be highly intelligent and, if I'm not mistaken, not unattracted to me.
Mr Wonderful was advertising another dance in Bromley, so my perambulations took me there, where I encountered many more foreigners. Returning home, I found London full of men and women in tweeds. How splendid to see so many white faces on the countryside march. Blair's phoney multi-culturalism is destroying this once great land.
The day of the cruise came and we arrived to find there was to be no dancing on board. Bless my soul. I must confess, I found the other passengers somewhat dull. Bring back national service.
The digested read ... digested
Mr Nobody finds himself all at sea
