I bump into Rod Liddle's girlfriend. Argh! I wrote that he should go back to his wife

There are some images, such as the one of Paula Radcliffe breaking down at the side of the road in the Athens Olympics, that really turn me off; and the very sight of her rekindles that memory. So it is with some annoyance that I see the bookshops are stuffed full of Paula. My Story So Far, I suspect, will be one book that I start but can't finish.

Most disgusting was her interview in the Sun, to flog the book, in which she said how "crashing out of Athens was like a bereavement". There speaks a woman who has never lost anything of true value in her life.

The jury is still out on who committed the greatest error of judgement last week: Bonking Boris Johnson in trying to cover up his affair with Petronella Wyatt (how could he, with her mum, Lady Verushka - known as Lady Verruca - so eager to tell the world about her daughter's affair?); or Michael Howard for sacking him. The Tory leader, with characteristic clumsiness, turned a personal tragedy into a political crisis. The story would have gone away without Howard's heavy-handed intervention - instead it led the weekend's news ad nauseam.

If we have learned anything about politicians and their affairs (let's not forget Bonking Blunkett), it is that when left alone, when no questions are asked, an MP's private life can remain just that.

Howard claims Johnson lied to him over the affair: he should never have been asked the question in the first place.

The new cool for book launches is a private dinner at Soho House. The champagne and a few friendly insults flowed freely at John Humphrys's recent Lost For Words launch.

There was much talk of Boris's predicament and, at another party next day, of his replacement at the Spectator, should his lifestyle prove too rich for the Barclay brothers. As well as the usual suspects, my old colleague and Times diarist Andrew Pierce has emerged as the dark horse in the race for the editorship.

It is an occupational hazard for columnists that very occasionally you bump into a person you have been less than generous about - very occasionally you bump into them I mean, not that very occasionally one is less than generous. Hence it was with some trepidation that I saw Rod Liddle's girlfriend approach me at a dinner.

As it turns out, I was on her hit-list for many months for suggesting Rod should go back to his wife. He hasn't. Alicia Monckton is very beautiful and says she likes shouting at Piers Morgan when she watches Morgan & Platell. And yet, I would have thought she'd be used to noisy, opinionated, domineering men.

The new, well, old really, Band Aid single is out with only one hissy fit - this time from saintly Bono. He muscled out Darkness frontman Justin Hawkins from singing the famous line: "Well tonight thank God it's them instead of you." Bono aside, am I the only one who thinks they're a bunch of nobodies? At least the last group were international stars, not winners of reality TV shows like Pop Idol. If Will Young is the answer to world famine, heaven help them all.

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