Last night I'm out having a nice chinese dinner in Chinatown (don't even get me started on this – they must have different menus for regulars, and for people who obviously look like chumps, because extremely rare is the occasion when I can profess to having had a good meal in Chinatown), and my phone rings – bringing with it the usual joyful trouser-vibration that accompanies a silent ringer volume. In retrospect, having it on silent was over-cautious, cos you couldn't hear yourself talk over the din and hubbub of the rambunctious and steadily drunkening crowd. As you do at dinner, I diverted it to messagebank. Then the message arrives – cue more vibration. Then I get a text message (and more vibration). Then, a few minutes later, another (bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt). It's unusual for me to get so many messages in a row unless it's either something important, or it's New Year's Eve (where everybody drunkenly & repeatedly sends text messages of goodwill to everybody in their phonebook, thus solving the problem of how to spend that £20 that Granny gave them for Christmas). Checking to see what this urgent message could be, I was greeted with the following, from Catrin:

“I am watching TV watching you watching cocks on a wall”.

The other messages were from Kat, telling me that I was now famous.

It's bloody typical, isn't it. If you cast your mind back to February this year, my mate Nagi and I were at a pub for a farewell drinks session, and there was a photography exhibition on. An exhibition of pictures of penises. And of course as there was a camera crew down there interviewing people, being the helpful types we are, we chatted with them at length (if you'll pardon the fairly obvious pun).

So, guess what was on BBC3 last night? Yep, you guessed it – shot after shot of yours truly (and presumably Nagi and Toby as well) looking at dick pictures. And predicktably though we shot a fairly decent interview, the acoustic in the room was terrible, so the footage was of me talking and nodding enthusiastically to accompany a voiceover saying “I was surprised how enthusiastic a lot of men were to talk about their penis!”.

If I get accosted for autographs in the street, I'll let you know.