Visited Sludge at his lair yesterday. As soon as he opened the door clean shaven and the whiff of Old Spice was detected I knew he had found a new woman to wrestle with. Sure enough he soon begun merrily humming Love is a Many Splendored Thing and Wet Wet Wet's Love is All Around.

I didn't enquire who the latest Miss Right is. To my knowledge there were three during 2021. The one I saw was rough even by his extraordinary low standards. Her marriage had broken up after she set fire to the marital bed - with her husband still in it! She was easily the most unprepossessing of all his fiancées I had clapped eyes on. She looked like a cross between The Pogues' lead singer Shane MacGowan and Roland Rat.

Probably the most memorable of all his former significant others was a lady from Kenfig Hill. She made East European shot putters appear slim and feminine and was also a smoking addict, not of cigarettes but a pipe... one like Sherlock Holmes used that drooped down like a hockey stick. She puffed on it so much the Child Benefit payments she received each week for her four kids was only enough for her to afford the cheapest pipe tobacco which needs to be drawn on furiously to remain alight.

He would interfere with her whilst they sat on the settee at his den between watching TV and comparing the length of their armpit hair.

He was tasked with holding a lighter near the bowl of the pipe ready for when she was unable to get a drag. When he was too slow she'd punch him in the shoulder. Sometimes she'd miss and sock him in the jaw or earhole. Few would describe the scene as domestic bliss but I can't knock him for wearing a boxer's headguard and gum shield.

He remains very coy about why they parted. Months later I heard from a source she started to self-identify as a male. She insisted on being addressed as Arthur rather than her real name of Trixiebelle and would threaten to physically assault anyone guilty of using the wrong pronoun.