Some very good friends bit the dust last night and got engaged. It is very exciting and thrilling news.

Amusingly, it has prompted some serious panicking from The German. He’s the last one of his close friends to hit the ground on bended knee and pop that question, you see.

After consulting my crystal ball, I can confirm two things.

The first is that I’m quite happy for him to hold out for a good while yet. The second is that this fact will not prevent me from winding him up at every available opportunity. And recruiting everyone else we know to do the same. Feel free to take a cheap shot in the comments section, dear readers.

Poor bastard.

The Veuve is chilling in the fridge…

The stockings are on ice…

The threats of “You’d better take me out, or else!” have paid off…

There’s a frisson of romantic excitement in the air. Oh yes. You could see it as people queued outside the card shop yesterday: sweaty of palm, sure of luck. They were practically limbering up for the sweetly anticipated bedroom acrobatics. Fair fucks: you don’t want to put your back out at the crucial moment.

I’d join in, only I’m knackered. Me and The German were up until 3am playing backgammon last night.

And why, you may ask, weren’t we getting a good night’s kip in preparation for all the saccharin-sweet declarations of everlasting love that we’re obviously going to be engaging in later?

Because we were having a backgammon match. Whoever lost has to buy the Valentine’s fish and chips tonight.

I won. Eat that, loser.