The Devil is forever boasting that he never suffers a hang-over. Guido can confirm that he does pass out though. DK, if you are wondering what happened to your phone and wallet, call, they are safe…

Dave advocated a continental approach to familiarising children with alcohol, a small glass of wine at the dinner table was the example he used. Sensible and far better than teenagers learning about boozing from Barcardi Breezers behind the bike sheds. Melissa Kite shrilly calls it a blunder and fatuously asks

…why don’t the Tories propose giving away free Dubonnet and soda in schools during break time, or perhaps little bottles of vodka and red bull at lunch.

This error of extrapolation is possibly the result of a good lunch?

Guido’s mother was known to dip his dummy in brandy when he was teething. Look how he turned out…

It was not quite politics babylon on St James – Diane Abbott cosying up to Jonathan Aitken, Andrew Neil cosying up to a bevy of dusky maidens (really), Matthew d’Ancona cosying up to no one in particular. Guido dropped in on the Speccie party. They had heavies in the undergrowth, yet still Guido squeezed in.

Dave apparently did his usual 15 minutes of smiling, showing his face to friends thing, before heading back to Notting Hill (Guido arrived late, so that is second hand, possibly even completely untrue). Coulson was chatting cheerfully to some totty. The co-conspirator’s sweetheart – little Jenny of the Bank of England – was inquiring as to her permanent successor on the Daily Politics - still no news. Melanie Philips actually looked jolly, Simon Hoggart looked lost, Katy Taylor-Richards was wearing a short skirt.

It was as packed as the proverbial tin of sardines. Guido experimented with the cocktail of the night – sponsored by the Ardbeg whisky firm – it was a very strong sort of a whisky sour with Grand Marnier. Guido thinks he will be snoring on the sofa through Diane and Brillo tonight…

So contrary to early reports and rejoicing this morning on the unpopular blogs, Guido is still at liberty. Sentenced to a 3 year driving ban, plus 3 month curfew. No excuses, Guido pleaded guilty.

Mrs Fawkes laughed at the news, she has been trying to get her husband home early for years. Guido attributes his shameful behavior to excess alcohol and an early reading of P J O’Rourke’s Republican Party Reptile*.

Thanks to all those of you who sent best wishes and to the not at all obsessed T** I****** for turning up to offer, errm, support in the public gallery. Having demurred to the offer of an alcohol treatment program, Guido will continue to drink and now be chauffeur-driven home early.

*The Platform of the Republican Party Reptiles:

We already knew from Tracey’s kiss ‘n tell that Prezza suffered from diabetic impotence, hence the necessity for a few Viagra when he was attempting to hide the chipolata with his mistresses. Will that also be in his “no punches pulled” book?

Guido has to be the first to ask, is it really the classical bulimia condition he is describing?

I was getting all this pleasure stuffing food in, perhaps if I could get it out, I could carry on eating, do the same the next day. So I started deliberately sicking it up. I’d go to the toilet after guzzling, put a finger down my throat, and make it all come up. It was surprisingly easy.

Prezza is admitting it had nothing to do with poor self-image, or other self-esteem issues and all to do with him enjoying going through all the numbers on the menu at the local Chinese.

Whenever I go to Mr Chu’s in Hull, my favourite Chinese restaurant in the whole world, great atmosphere, great people, I could eat my way through the entire menu.

He would sick it up so he could consume more. That is plain old fashioned gluttony. The Romans knew the joy of orgies of over-eating followed by vomiting. Cicero, in Pro Rege Deiotaro, records that Julius Caesar “expressed a desire to vomit after dinner” (vomere post cenam te velle dixisses), and says that the dictator took emetics for this purpose.

Prezza is not suffering from a tragic condition, he is just a gluttonous, greedy sicko.

Prezza’s self-outing has neverthless given Guido the courage to confess that he too suffers from an eating disorder. Guido’s recent weight gain has been cruelly mocked by cartoonists and even the usually so right-on stick-to-the-ishoos types. Rich Johnston the cartoonist described the technical term for Guido’s condition as “daddy fat”. In fact during the first three years of married life Guido was gaining weight at the rate of a pound per month.

Although Guido has yet to sign his book contract, it seems that now is the right time to reveal the suffering and torment caused by endless long lunches, bottles of Margaux, Port and cheese accompaniments…

Guido will be down in Bar Cubana, Waterloo (map) this evening drinking to the ill health of Fidel Castro. The bar is owned by blogging ex-Tory MP Phillip Oppenheim and he has been prevailed upon to contribute a few drinks to celebrate the end of Fidelismo. So if any of you fancy dropping in after work…

(Oppenheim was called a “c**t” by Shadow DFID Minister Andrew Mitchell over this blog story).