Suave. Sophisticated. Cool. Debonair. These are just some of the words that describe other people. I know this, but in what I like to think of as a laudable refusal to accept an unpalatable truth, I do sometimes aspire to a level which could charitably be described as presentable, yet, with monotonous regularity, I fall short.

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“Your sense of humour is as silly as mine!” – Chris Tarrant

Some of you will not know that Chris Tarrant is a talented, funny and seemingly – I’ve never met him – thoroughly likeable man. Well he is. He is also an OBE, so even the Queen likes him, because she doesn’t just hand those out to anyone, you know. He is now perhaps best known in the UK as the erstwhile host of “Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?”, to which he brought his appealing brand of humour, gentle sarcasm, blatant, and therefore friendly, mickey-taking and the Tarrant talent as a consummate quiz show host.

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This isn’t really all that funny, not least because for the past week or so I’ve been suffering not with a cold, not even with man-flu, but with some dreadful disease which would surely have reduced lesser men than me to snivelling, shivering wrecks, shells of their former selves, knocking on the door of death, but quietly because they lacked the energy to demand entry.

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