I popped along to the Oldie magazine’s 200th issue party last week in London. Apparently Julie Burchill’s a huge fan of the publication (didn’t she do this dreadful programme defending ‘chavs’ on Sky One a while ago? She’s a self-confessed chav, by the way). Unfortunately Jon Snow didn’t show up (I’m sure he would have had he known I was coming) but I bumped into Charlie, walked into his missus when coming out of the ladies’ and I got a slice of cake and a party-bag. Cool, eh? I spotted a few 'celebs' – Richard Wilson, Maureen Lipman, Sheila Hancock...and like a true pro, I pretended not to notice them. Sadly I didn’t take one photo on the night, partly because no one else was snapping away and er, I got a bit distracted by a few gentlemen. I didn’t know wearing a skirt had such an ‘interesting’ effect…

So yes, I schmoozed a bit and it was pretty nice to be at a party where I knew most people unlike this bash Mojo and I went to a few years ago. I can’t even remember what it was for…possibly the opening of a gallery or a launch of a book – and it was awful. Far too many people squished inside, no canapés and by the time we turned up, all the drinks had run out. The only thing to catch our attention was some random hand coming out of the crowd (fortunately not at us) and a voice, which quipped: “Hi!!! Danny from Loaded!” There was no pause, he just went straight in there. Whoever you are, Danny, are you still at Loaded?

The Bloodhound Gang are touring the UK next week. I don’t know when their tour kicks off, I just know I’ve got tickets to see them on the 9th and just as I was petrified at what happened at their last gig five years ago, I’m bricking it in case they’ve decided to up the stakes and break all barriers when it comes to their live shows – torturing individual audience members, strip-teasing, karaoke challenges…probably all done to deflect from their songs. No actually, the real reason I’m a bit nervous is at the prospect of interviewing them. I don’t know what to wear, I don’t know what to ask. Great role model that I am (!) I hope they’re all hung-over except frontman Jimmy Pop. I like him. I’m still scared though!

Oh yes, I almost forgot the bombshell I was hit with – Ivan, the 'colour technician' who gave me my red streaks has mysteriously left the salon. He'd only just joined the place! I remember the last words he said to me when I asked if he'd do my highlights again: "Of course, you're my client now". Pah! Men, you're all the same – unreliable.