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WAKING in Manchester with my mouth dry and my hands conspiciously bloodied, I recall with a smile the fretful events that lead me here.

‘I WILL never recover from this humiliation,’ Akshata says. ‘Ordering me – me! – onto the stage in front of your tawdry pensioners to praise you.’

I FUCKING hate cats. Haughty bastards that sleep where you want to sit or rimming their own arseholes. On a scale of pointless animals they're one step down from wasps.

The self-appointed capital of west Yorkshire, the first city to get a Harvey Nichols outside London, Leeds has always been rather up itself.

FOURTEEN-year-old Active J, known in his detached home as Joshua Hudson, explains to his crew the privations of walking the hood in school uniform.

What’s ‘Billie’ Eilish even short for? Is it Billicent?

WAKING with a severe head cold, sneezing uncontrollably, I realise that I have chosen quite the day for it.

IT’S hard to announce the cancellation of a train line that’s cost £57 billion and make it sound good for growth. So I’m not going to. Announce it that is, I’m still cancelling it.

THE Great British Bake Off is back, with new host Alison Hammond initiated into its sordid world of cakes and implied sex. These are the things she didn’t know.

THE high-impact multi-position end-changing shag is the dream, but what you really fancy is a nice lie down. Combine the two for lovely low-maintenance orgasms.