Recently by Cherry Green

I read somewhere that 50 per cent of office workers have to drink in order to enjoy themselves at their Christmas party.

You have to wonder if the other 50 per cent are on heroin as I can’t imagine facing a work do anything other than off my face.

Dear Santa, You don’t like me and I don’t like you … No … How about: Now, I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye… no. Let’s try…

Merry Christmas! I hope you are looking forward to the one day of the year where you have to do any work.

At the time of writing I am shocked and outraged by several of the week’s news stories.

The first being the tabloids’ allegations that Gordon Ramsay has managed to get two women to sleep with him despite resembling a Shar-Pei with Tourette’s.

It has been a bad week for members of the BNP with the publication of its members’ details on the internet, making it much easier for the rest of us to make prank calls to them.

I didn’t join in myself, but then I have been sending pizzas round to Nick Griffin’s house for years.

The last person in the world that I want to fall out with is my hairdresser.

OK, so we aren’t related and she isn’t there for me when the chips are down, but she does my highlights the way I like them and doesn’t try to engage me in small talk.

After six years on the comedy circuit, I am hanging up my microphone. I’m never going to set foot on stage again. At least for now. Definitely, probably not in the next six months anyway.

The reasons for this decision are myriad.

I’ve just given blood for the first time and am feeling pleasantly virtuous.

In fact, I feel like I could do something terribly immoral and still have my karma intact. I might even ring Andrew Sachs and tell him I’ve had his granddaughter, too.

This week’s papers have been full of speculation about Madonna’s divorce from Guy Ritchie and, surely, we are all wondering how he managed to survive this long.

Has anyone ever tried to make jam?

If you haven’t, I would like to take this opportunity to advise you not to and to remind you that you can buy jam in shops.

When I was a kid, my dad used to make jam and it used to take a whole day of boiling giant pans.

This week an enormous Ukrainian telescope has beamed some messages into space so that aliens can look at them and think twice about visiting earth.

So I’m told by the web.

It also told me that the messages sent were chosen from competition entries via the social networking website, Bebo.