It's been a long time since I had a decent ice-cream and Daljit Nagra has invited me to the launch of  Tippoo Sultan’s Incredible White-Man-Eating Tiger Toy-Machine!!! with the promise of a Mr. Whippy!!! He's promised this pleasure before mind, so I'm going to keep him to it. I don't tend to leave Swindon on a whim. 'Bring rolling pin just in case the ice cream is too lumpy and needs smoothing out…'said Daljit, ah, there's metaphor in his madness me thinks.

Yesterday, Barry informed me of the new naked poets calendar out on the wordly shelves and asked me to guess which poets are in it...'you know one of them.' he grinned. My inner twin tub started to spin and I guessed Daljit, with a gobi gobi covering the glory. 'No,' he said, 'you are absolutely wrong. Why don't you stop fantasising and think straight?' Of course! I should have known, Alan Buckley, who else? Barry tutted, he always tuts ... I'm left wondering what Alan is not wearing and where.

But does ice-cream beat Belgian Buns?

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