MONDAY, JANUARY 1
I was thrilled to see Barry Gibb finally get a knighthood in the New Year’s honours list.
Three years ago I interviewed the Bee Gees legend in New York and afterwards had a dinner with a fun group including Andrew and Madeleine Lloyd Webber and Katherine Jenkins.
‘Why hasn’t Barry got a knighthood?’ Madeleine suddenly demanded to know. None of us could provide a sensible answer.
Unlike teetotal Donald, Oprah loves an alcoholic tipple. In fact, one tipple in particular: Billecart-Salmon Brut Rosé champagne
As I wrote in this column that week: ‘If Paul McCartney, Mick Jagger and Elton John have all got one, then so, surely, should a man representing the only band in pop history to write, produce and record six consecutive No 1 hits? Let’s make it happen.’
A few papers picked up on this glaring omission, and now it’s happened.
A lot of these gongs go to thoroughly undeserving reptiles such as Sir Nick bloody Clegg, for services to screwing students.
It’s nice that they occasionally go to the truly good guys with astounding talent.
Congrats, Sir Barry!
THURSDAY, JANUARY 4
As excitement builds over Prince Harry’s wedding to Meghan Markle, I’ve been frenziedly milking my brief friendship with the bride-to-be in the inevitably forlorn hope of landing an invitation.
My chances haven’t been helped by The Sun’s TV critic, Ally Ross, who wrote: ‘Meghan Markle’s “friend” Piers Morgan asks: “What’s Prince Harry got that I haven’t?” ’
He then answers the question thus: ‘The public’s affection, a certain sense of humility, a distinguished military record, a degree of charisma, a body-mass index lower than his age, the regulation number of chins, an unrestricted view of his genitals and a mouth that doesn’t twitch like Watership Down’s sphincter during a myxomatosis outbreak whenever someone else talks. Among other things.’
I read this several times with mounting fury at the shocking inaccuracy. Watership Down is a fictional place, not a rabbit.
FRIDAY, JANUARY 5
I have a thrilling update to my unexpected fan letter a few weeks ago from TV legend Des Lynam.
Des had emailed me to say how, after decades of bewildered bafflement at my achievements, he was now a supporter after watching me on breakfast television.
Today I received another missive from his Sussex home:
‘Dear Piers, following your column about the note I sent to you, I have now had several calls from friends who have also come round to the view that you are a hit on Good Morning Britain, having previously had little good to say about you. I thought I was alone in appreciating your talent but seem to have started a “Piers Appreciation” movement in my neck of the woods. People are outing themselves in your favour. Best wishes, Des.’
SATURDAY, JANUARY 6
Flew back from a break in Marrakech on the same BA plane as Prince and Princess Michael of Kent.
I was curious to see what special perks our Royals might get above lesser VIP mortals like me (I was two seats behind them).
The answer is that Princess Michael’s cane and Prince Michael’s jacket were both taken to the pilot’s cockpit for safekeeping.
Clearly neither was deemed a terror risk despite Michael sporting the kind of beard that Prince Philip believes automatically makes you one.
TUESDAY, JANUARY 9
Toby Young has been forced to quit the board of a new university regulator because of distasteful old tweets and columns resurrected by his enemies to hang him at the altar of political correctness.
I’ve known Toby for several decades, and despite all you’ve been reading about him, he’s a smart, funny guy with an insatiable penchant for winding people up. He’s also someone who, for the past five years, has dedicated himself to setting up free schools, greatly to his credit. There is, though, an undeniable touch of the Benny Hill about him, as can be seen in his social-media obsession with women’s breasts.
When I was trying to win Donald Trump’s The Celebrity Apprentice show in New York in 2008, I asked Toby if he could help with one challenge. ‘A mate of mine is head of publicity for Playboy,’ he replied instantly. ‘She could turn up with a bevy of bunnies?’
As he now licks his wounds while sanctimonious luvvies dance on his public-office grave, I can only offer Toby the same advice he once gave me: ‘The trick is to care but not too much. Give a s*** but not really.’
WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 10
Michael Wolff’s sensational book on Donald Trump, Fire And Fury, is dominating political gossip. I read it in one sitting and it’s an uproarious, outrageous and thoroughly entertaining read.
As for its veracity, I can only say that Wolff interviewed me for the tome and quoted me entirely accurately.
Meanwhile, Oprah Winfrey presidential fever is gathering momentum after her electrifying Golden Globes speech. Like Trump, she’s a billionaire, attention-loving TV superstar adept at self-promotion.
But unlike teetotal Donald, Oprah loves an alcoholic tipple. In fact, one tipple in particular: Billecart-Salmon Brut Rosé champagne.
Like Trump, Oprah is a billionaire, attention-loving TV superstar adept at self-promotion
Informed of this, I once sent her a case of it after she agreed to be my first guest at CNN.
The next day my PA told me Oprah was on the phone. When I was connected, all I could hear was a very loud slurping noise that went on for ten seconds.
‘I wanted to prove to you that I’m drinking it right now!’ Oprah eventually giggled. Then she hung up.
I’d vote for her.