‘Sodding sods!’ I exclaim, as I discover that I’m £16,000 overdrawn. Between the tweakments, the Berry Bros deliveries and the maintenance of a feckless toyboy in rented digs in Hove, I’m deep in the red and digging deeper.

I shoot Emilia Cash-Barings a WhatsApp. ‘Babe, have you got any comish for me? Something on the new scourge of Athleisure or a righteous skewering of Soho Farmhouse?’ ‘Look, Helen,’ she replies. ‘All I’ve got is something on this “AI” stuff. £2,000? What do you reckon?’

That’s the problem with tech journalism. It’s all done by dorky pale men who want to hide from women

That’s the problem with tech journalism. It’s all done by dorky pale men who want to hide from women

AI? Moi? I’m no incel. The truth is that I haven’t got any opinions about technology, other than that we should ban teenagers from having phones so we can get them out boozing and bonking again. But perhaps that’s the problem with tech journalism. It’s all done by dorky pale men who want to hide from women behind their computer screens.........

© The Spectator