1. You've got to love Abba, haven't you. From the album “Super Trouper”:

I was at a party and this fella said to me
“Something bad is happening, I'm sure you do agree
People care for nothing, no respect for human rights
Evil times are coming, we are in for darker nights”
I said, “Who are you to talk about impending doom?”
He got kinda wary as he looked around the room
He said, “I'm a minister, a big shot in the state”
I said, “I just can't believe it, boy I think it's great
Brother can you tell me what is right and what is wrong?”

He said, “Keep on rocking baby, 'til the night is gone”

Abba may have unwittingly provided a potentially effective answer to the question of IRA decommissioning. Simplistic? Perhaps. But you've got to give it a go, haven't you?

Paisley said “It's far from clear that all their arms have gone.”
Adams: “Keep on rocking, Paisley, 'til the night is gone.”

2. I'm thinking of attending The Whoopee Club on Easter Sunday. One of the dresscode suggestions is “Russian Doll”. If anyone would like to completely immerse themselves within my torso, just apply in the usual manner.

3. I got dressed up in a jacket and tie last night for a slightly subsidised crawl of Mayfair pubs and bars. On the way to Bond Street station I saw a poster which advised: “Michael Owen writes exclusively for The Times.” Yes, of course. I'm pondering whether he should have been commissioned to do some colouring in, exclusively for The Times, before they let him loose with a blimmin' word processor.

The bar at Claridge's was full of women in marketing. The American bar at the Connaught was quite, quite beautiful, but empty. The new head barman explained how he was going to make big changes, then hurriedly backpedalled when he saw the horror on our faces. I think we managed to persuade him just to do a bit of light dusting, in the end.

I also saw the smallest petrol station in London.