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Last night, I made my first public appearance since that hair-brained nude suicide leap and it’s all down to Robbie Williams. The Bobster, as I call him, checked into Northampton General on Tuesday, suffering from a medical condition known as “had too much sex and is well knackered”.

So, me and The Rob have been making music. Last Thursday, he was working on some old rubbish in his private ward when I staggered in, blind mad, kicked his record player, which was playing some dodgy 80’s NYC house, and then burped. “Rudebox” is the ecstatic, incontrovertible results. As a gesture of thanks, Bobby got me two tickets to see the Arctic Monkeys at Northampton Roadmenders.