I have today resigned my membership of the Garrick Club

To quell public speculation on the subject I wish it to be know that I have today resigned my membership of the Garrick Club.  

As a sometime entertainer (if not a thespian) I was drawn to join the club by my wish to seek the company of other gentlemen in field of entertainment who each displayed excellence in their particular fields.  

Also, I need a place to stay when I am in town as it is tedious to continually have to return home to Croydon on the night train from Victoria.  

However, I have to say that whilst the food, furnishings, architecture, library and available mental stimulation are all excellent the club heavily falls down (as I observed to John Simpson and Stephen Fry the other day) on the fact that there are no birds.

“Look,” I said to Stephen the other day, “it’s okay for you, you’re gay … all your needs are catered for here ... but as a heterosexual gentleman although I am in a relationship I have to say that this place is remarkably thin on birds.”

“Well, I did propose Bill Oddie,” chipped in John Simpson.

“Is he a bird?” I said.

“It doesn’t matter,” ejaculated Benedict Cumberbatch.  “He was blackballed by the Committee.”

“Mon dieu,” said David Suchet.

“I have to say you have a point,” said Paul Dacre.  “Whilst neither of us are on the pull, as the editor of a family newspaper it does disturb me that round this place there’s a distinct lack of totty.”

“Ah, Totty!” exclaimed Rowley Birkin QC.  I couldn’t decipher the rest of his verbal peregrinations.

“Do you lot mind keeping it down,” interrupted King Charles.  “One has only just had one’s radiotherapy.

"Sorry," said Rowley.

“May I kiss your ring, your Majesty?” said Stephen Fry.

“No,” said the King.

“I still think there aren’t enough birds,” I said.

“Perhaps you should leave then?” sneered Michael Gove.

“It might be wise,” added Jacob Ress-Mogg.

"Yes," said Dacre.

So I did.