A day in the life of Damain Thopmson

A blood-crazed ferret

I shudder into wakefulness as my alarm clock rings (today it plays my friend James MacMillan's cantata "The Lord smote Glasgow Rangers"). Giving my teddy-bear, Benedict, a quick hug, I leap out of bed and get dressed. Breakfast is a simple affair of cupcakes and coffee.

Telegraph cupcakes. Can you spot Cristina Odone, Tim Stanley and Ed West?

Of course on Sundays I omit breakfast and go straight to the Oratory to look for liberal and modernist tendencies in the Latin Mass, but on weekdays I go to Telegraph Towers where I hold the highly important job of Editor of Telegraph Blogs. This means that all the bloggers kow-tow to me, bring me cupcakes, and laugh at my jokes. The only person I have to fear is the Telegraph's Editor, Tony Gallagher, who is a West Ham United fan, and regularly says things like "I don't like your face, Thompson, you little squirt. Beat it!" But now I've stopped blogging on religious topics, he doesn't kick me so often.

One big happy family of bloggers

Like most journalists, I spend most of the morning reading the papers, insulting people on Twitter, and swapping silly jokes. But Friday is my big day, as I have to write a Saturday column for the Telegraph's distinguished readership of London lawyers and retired colonels. So I look for pictures of fat people with silly hair or strange clothes, and weave a hilarious (or as my brainy friend Tom Chivers says "an hilarious") narrative about them.

Arthur Roche, always good for a laugh

The lost sheep?

My Telegraph column also provides the material for a very witty blog. It attracts comments from the intellectual elite, who post under names like GI Joe, Mahatmacoatmabag, An Aussie Carrot, Chap With Wings, Molybdenite, Cutley in Florence, Ernest Chaussette, and The Great Stalin. Most of these names are real, but I suspect that one or two may be made up!

Well, the day draws on, and in the evening there are many options open to me. Sometimes I stand outside Victoria station selling copies of my new book The Fix to commuters. "Big issue!" I shout, as I think that addiction is indeed a big issue for all of us. Many commuters agree, and some are so impressed that they give me 50p, saying "Get yourself some tea, young man," without even taking a copy of my book.

Did I mention that I have written a book?

This is the book of which the great Clive James, writing in the prestigious Wallamaloo Possum-Breeder's Gazette said "Some wonderful books have been written on the subject of addiction. If you want something totally different, try this book instead." Praise indeed, I'm sure you'll agree!

Another thing I may do in the evening is go home to Notting Hill, and play one of my 50,000 CDs. I am a very cultured chap, and I have 94 recordings of James MacMillan's Orchestral Variations on Donald, where's yer troosers? Often I lie in my bath, playing games with my plastic duck, Donata, and singing along to James's immortal music.

Before I know it, it's 9 p.m. and time for bed. A quick anonymous phone call to one of my enemies (e.g. Austin Ivereigh or Johann Hari), with a burst of demonic laughter, and we've reached the end of a perfect day. Off to bed with my teddy-bear!

Good night, Damian!

Just another Minute

Now that Nicholas Parsons has been given some much-needed counselling, we resume our panel game "Just a Minute" with Moly Badnite, Damian Thompson, Ken Livingstone and Richard Dawkins. Recall that panelists must speak for one minute without (a) being rude about anyone, (b) rolling on the floor laughing, or (c) talking about their boring family.

NP: Right, Richard Dawkins, you have one minute on the subject of "World War II."

RD: The role of the Catholic church in World War II was truly shameful. It was Pope Pius XII who gave Hitler the idea of persecuting the Jews, you know. Pius instructed young Joseph Ratzinger, now Pope Benedict XVI, to found the Hitler Youth - he liked parading in funny costumes, still does. Having heard that, how can anyone pretend that God exists? ROFL.  BZZZ.

NP: A challenge from Ken Livingstone there. Yes, Richard lost control and started ROFLing.  Is there a doctor in the house? Ken, 45 seconds left on the subject of World War II.

KL: Hitler didn't like the Jews because they were all too rich to vote for him, and I have the same problem. My father warned me, you know. "Ken," he said, "Muslims good, Jews bad. IRA good, Tories bad. When in doubt make friends with the ones with the bombs. Got that?" BZZZ.

NP: Well Damian Thompson was the first to spot the gratuitous reference to a boring family-member. Damian, 32 seconds on "World War II."

DT: For all his faults, Josef Goebbels did obtain a Ph.D. from Heidelberg University in 1921, and he was a successful journalist in his younger days, sometimes known as Das Blut-verrückten Frettchen. He wrote a best-selling book Gegenwissen, which he followed up with Der Fix. You wouldn't see a thicko like Richard Chartres... BZZZ

NP: Rudeness from Damian there, so a successful challenge from Moly Badnite. Now, you have 18 seconds left. Can you talk about World War II (or in your case, anything else) without insults, ROFLs or mentioning your boring family?

MB: Er... Well... Um... Can I mention the woefully shameful way I was treated by Hermann Goering? I still remember those balmy nights in Berlin, when we danced romantically together by the light of the moon.  My father said we made a lovely couple. I've got a photo here.

MB (continues): In those days many of my "rels" were Catholic. BZZZ Shut up, will you? Not fanatical rude obsessed sock-puppet Catholics like James Macmillan, BZZZ BZZZ SHUT UP!  Devout saintly non-believing Catholics, the best kind. ROFFAM. BZZZ BZZZ BZZZ

 NP: What's ROFFAM? Oh yes, "rolls on floor foaming at mouth." Well, Moly got through to the final buzzer, but her nephew Eccles has just come on with a wheel-barrow to take her home. So it's goodbye from me. I'll be back when Hell freezes over, but not much sooner.

Just a Minute

Nicholas Parsons (for it is he). Welcome to this week's edition of "Just a Minute," the show where contestants have to talk for one minute on a given subject without (a) being rude about anyone, (b) rolling on the floor laughing, or (c) talking about their boring family.

Tonight's guests are Moly Badnite, also known as the Great Australian Blight; Damian Thompson, who asked me to mention his new book; Ken Livingstone, politician and clown; and lastly Richard Dawkins, founder of the Dawkinsology cult. And we start with Moly, who has to speak for just a minute on the subject of Beethoven.

MB: Of course I had a very good musical education in Australia, and was I able to play all the Beethoven piano sonatas by the time I was 3 years old. I know them all, the Pathetic, the Woeful, the Hammersockenpuppet, etc., thanks to my father who was a personal friend of Beethoven and... BZZZ.

NP: Yes, and a challenge from Damian there. She's been mentioning her boring family again, hasn't she? You have one point and the subject with 49 seconds to go.

DT: It's really shocking that kids these days don't know their opus numbers off by heart. Why even my friend James Macmillan hesitated for 10 seconds when I asked him to name three 19th century Finnish composers each of whose opus 94 was in the key of G major, and James is the greatest composer since Beethoven. BZZZ

MB: ROFL. He's a traddy fanatical Catholic. I told him once to stick to composing.

RD: Catholics??? Did you know that the Pope killed Polly Toynbee, made a pie out of her body, and served it up in an old people's home? Well, he would if he could. Darwin predicted it, you know.

MB: Toynbees? There's a plague of them in Pottymouth. Huge creatures. Not like the pathetic pommy bees you get in England. Such is life, eh? BZZZ. Aargh, there's another one!

NP: SHUT UP. Sorry, slightly incorrect challenges from Moly and Richard there, so Damian continues with 39 seconds left.

MB: Why is the rude idiotic Nicholas Parsons troll allowed to continue here?

NP: It's my show, actually. Now, Damian?

DT: I own 45,000 CDs of Beethoven's music, which is probably a record. I really must get a CD player one of these days. Of course, late Beethoven is the best - say, anything he wrote after 11 p.m. BZZZ.

NP: Ken? Did you have a challenge?

KL: Waaaaaahhhh! I lost! How could people vote for Boris? He tells lies. He has extremist views. He makes friends with terrorists. He keeps newts. He hates Jews. Or was that someone else?

NP: Another point to Damian for an incorrect challenge, I'm afraid. But I've had enough of this stupid game. It was so much more dignified when Kenneth Williams and Derek Nimmo were on the show.

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Concluded here.