Laughing . . . at Dylan Moran's facial expressions. Some of you will be aware that there is a film out in cinemas at the moment called A Film with Me in It, starring Moran and Mark Doherty, of Adam and Paulfame. Some of you will also be aware that it's an Irish movie, and that little factoid will have been enough to turn you right off. All I am saying is that the majority of this farce had me in conniptions (and I don't use the word lightly) of belly laughter. In it, an unfeasibly large number of characters pop their clogs, including Lily Allen's da and Brian O'Driscoll's girlfriend. If that weren't enough, at the very end there is a self-deprecating cameo from a certain star of The Tudors. Jonny we hardly knew you.

Reading . . . Home by Marilynne Robinson, which is beautiful, wise and brilliant. Also reading this month's book-club book, The Man Who Was Thursday, by GK Chesterton. Unfortunately, the first rule of our book club is that you can't talk about the book before the meeting. The second rule is that . . . you get the picture. At the risk of getting kicked out of said book club, I'm rather enjoying it so far. (Sssh!)

g . . . Dorothy Darker. This box-fresh blogger fills her site with small but perfectly formed meditations on her search for

Mr Right. My spies tell me the pithy online poetess is also a budding author.