Charity fundraising shenanigans

It's been one of those mad, pivotal weeks, this week. Our Help The Aged fundraising night with crisps and vintage rock n' roll and a bunch of bizarre prizes raised a good £700 for Help The Aged, and even the odd curmugeonly journalist was spotted. On behalf of everyone who danced, raised cash and helped out in various ways and salubrious means, I thank thee. Some great potential scenarios as well; the winner of the 4-star hotel break was a rather scary looking Lou Reed in drag female pool player. And the winners of the Champneys spa break are a busty barmaid from Hull Cheese and a gay gentlemen friend. That's gunna be some jacuzzi.
Earlier in the day I appeared on radio for the first time since swearing on Three Counties back in 1998 during the Bedford vs Yeovil FA Vase clash commentary. Great to be in the Beeb, was really struck by how friendly everyone was, in funky contrast to the Hull Daily Monochrome.
Today is my last day at Mail Towers. I expected to be bundled into a boot and executed at Spurn Point by John Meehan, Tommy Tuttle, legend of the postroom, and warlock Cy Ferguson, but instead I'm having a leaving speech with Meeharino. At 1.45, when every journo is at lunch! The tumbleweed is on its way ...