4am 14 September. One week from the last equinox of the millennium. Isn't this year just so full of "lasts" and anniversaries?!

Hi there!

Yes, it's another early session - sometimes I think my best time for writing to you here. Lots of people have asked me why I am so unkind to Michael Portillo. After all, he's one of the "girls" so shouldn't we be showing solidarity, pride, that sort of shit? The short answer is no. For there is nothing - nothing - more despicable than a gay Tory. How so? Because Mrs Thatcher single-handedly rode hellfire and damnation over gay people through every day of  her reign. If gas-ovens had been an option, then she would have been there with her GasCard and BurgerKing meat-thermometer. Over their orientation, people have no choice, so on those matters we remain neutral. But politics are different. There you do get to choose.

Thus we will do everything in our power to limit and curtail Senor Portillo's renaissance, and consign him back to the beauty parlours and hair salons where he rightly belongs. Tia Maria. I like that name. One of my better ones. So much so, that it's already been offered to Private Eye, as I want it to have the widest possible circulation. Ridicule is a powerful weapon, which eventually brought down even Mrs Thatcher. Thank God for that.

Theresa is in love. For three weeks. Her new man tells her that she needs loving as much as he does. That he adores her and just wants to make her happy. That no woman has meant as much to him as she does. That he wants them to be together for the rest of their lives.

Why are men such bastards?

Later today I do my first full shift as Bingo caller! Elated and excited I look forward to this with pleasure. The centre of attention is my natural position, and I handle the pressure really well. (So far, touch wood, salt over my shoulder, blah, blah) Twenty years of daily meditation have proved their worth!

My dentist and his nurse are fascinated by this career, (as are many others) and it was the nurse who suggested a sparkly jacket. Lurex. This we must investigate, along with perhaps a hint of blonde in the still-brown hair. New specs are also a must. This present pair, while functional, are distinctly middle-aged - the sort that scientists and philosophers wear on Open University programmes. Darwinian and Schubertian are the "in look" for specs. Small and round, oval, or even quasi-rectangular. We shall investigate. Oh - nearly forgot - my tummy is shrinking gently, as night after night I go to bed hungry. It's the only way. My old ladies deserve nothing less.

After we have destroyed Senor Portillo's career as Conservative politician, we would be happy to instruct him in the art of Bingo calling. A much more fitting life for a fag. And from what we hear, I'm sure he'd go down really well.