I HAVE always been a great defender of the tabloid press. Whenever a lurid story has appeared in the papers about some kind of celeb or other and they have reacted with cries of "lies" I have always been firmly in the press camp, as it were. Now I find myself on the other side of the fence - a victim of scurrilous rumours with no basis in fact.
Let me explain. On Wednesday I had two missed calls from Rosey on my phone. Being a busy working executive at Meeja Wales I ignored them for a while, then when my curiosity finally got the better of me I gave him a bell.
"Have you got married?" he asked disbelievingly.
My God, the bloke only saw me two weeks ago. Even by my standards that would have been quick work.
"No, of course not. Where did you hear that?"
"It was all the talk at the Football Writers Association Player of the Year awards in London last night."
You would think those people had a few better rumours to discuss: Like will Ronaldo leave Manchester United for Spain? Or will Avram Grant be sacked as manager of Chelsea?
I asked him who had come up with this tasty morsel of gossip. "Scott Wilson of the Sunday Express told me."
Must be true then cos Scotty, AKA Kramer because his mannerisms always remind me of the character out of Seinfeld, is one of Fleet Street's finest - sports editor of that esteemed journal, no less.
Next thing I know the phone is ringing and Kramer is, way hey, on the line. "I hear congratulations are in order," he says. "Yeah, well you hear wrong. I don't imagine you are going to reveal your source."
"Yeh, it was that bloke who used to work with you on the Sunday Mirror. Rob someone."
Aah. The famous Rob Bowden, who I haven't spoken to since he spent the night at my flat the night before his beloved Millwall played in the FA Cup final against Manchester United in Cardiff. Obviously his stock as a hack with the London media has risen dramatically because of stunning exclusives such as these. I understand he is now Deputy Sports Editor of the News of the World.
In true A-list style I think it is time I throw a strop and declare: "Reports of my marriage are greatly exaggerated."
FINALLY. After five months of hard labour I have been given a week's parole for good behaviour and Wren and I are shooting off on another world tour. Well, more accurately, we are going to see the Fat Kid, Vin Man and the Big Boy in Southend. Then we are moving on to that lively hub of British nightlife which is known as Lavernham in Suffolk, to visit Wren's mum. After that we intend to visit my stately home, Amington Hall near Tamworth, which I discovered existed when I obtained my family history during last year's trip to Portsmouth. I'm wondering whether I should just march in and claim my ancestral birthright, kicking out any squatters who have taken root in my family seat. The nerve!
Meanwhile, it has been an interesting week, particularly as I am now a fully-fledged member of Facebook. Can you believe it? This is that nonsensical "social networking" website that I lambasted for being solely for people who can't make proper friends. I already have 14 online pals, would you believe, even though I have done nothing to attract such interest. It still seems a load of old twaddle, but when my old school mate Ed Brown contacted me from Hong Kong asking me if I would be her "friend" I felt a bit rotten ignoring it, especially when she had made a similar request a couple of years ago through a different network and I thought it was just one of those pyramid selling devices.
I haven't told Shutts yet, having torn him to pieces over his dedication to this knobend means of communication. He'll slaughter me when he reads this.
Bad luck Cardiff City. A great effort in the FA Cup final came to nothing when Portsmouth pipped them at the final hurdle. It's been an exciting week for our newspapers, though, and culminated in me taking charge of good old WoS on Saturday. It was hard work, but thoroughly enjoyable, too.
Hasn't been much time for cooking, what with trying to avoid the paparazzi chasing me around Cardiff (well, paps, anyway). A new bar called Zero Degrees opened up and the entire Welsh media fraternity turned up - to a large degree due to the free food and booze.
Still hungry by the time I got home I rustled up a quick tuna curry from my "Best Ever Wok and Stir Fry book".
1 onion (sliced)
1 red bell pepper (sliced)
1 green pepper (sliced)
2 tbsp oil
1/4 tsp cumin seeds
1/2 tsp ground cumin
1/2 tsp chilli powder
1/4 tsp salt
2 crushed garlic cloves
4oz can of tuna in brine
1 green chilli, chopped
1 inch piece root ginger, grated
1/4 tsp garam masala
1 tsp lemon juice
2 tbsp chopped coriander
Heat the oil in wok then add cumin seeds until they start to spit and pop
Add cumin, coriander, chilli powder and salt, followed by garlic, onion and peppers
Stir fry for 5-7 mins until the onion has browned.
Stir in the tuna, green chilli and ginger and cook for five minutes.
Add garam masala, lemon juice and chopped coriander and cook for 3 to 4 mins.
Serve in pitta bread or, like I did, have it with white rice.