Victoria Beckham - Paranoia over lads nights out

You will remember that Crusty has been drawn to the world of gossip mags recently.

It had always held a fascination to me what poor people read to entertain and educate themselves and once the discovery was made, I must confess, Crusty managed to bring the gap between privilege and abject poverty just that little bit closer. In fact, since the revelations of the pit bull with the lipstick, who discovered her fiance was making merry with his best man, I have not been able to pass a gossip magazine without curiosity getting the better of me.

I was walking down Northumberland Street the other night , with members of my security team, when I saw a homeless gentleman huddled up near the doorway of Monument Mall. I noticed the corner of a page with the half-visible headline "Paranoid Posh warns David ... No more lads".

I was aroused; or rather my curiosity was.

The homeless person was asleep, so I ripped it from the inside of his trouser leg and saw the full title; Paranoid Posh warns David: No more lads nights out.

It would appear that fashion icon David has long been a friend of TV Chef Gordon Ramsay. The two have spent a lot of time together since David and Poshtoria moved to LA. The fear Poshtoria has is that, following the alleged affair Gordon had with some bring-and-buy-sell-it-and-tell-it female, Victoria is worried David will do the same.

I must confess, some time ago I was left with a void in my televisual viewing of an evening, when Jenny Barnett ended her run on Good Food Live. In its place we were subjected to Market Kitchen. This, in itself, was not a problem - the scrummy Matt Tebbut, Amanda Lamb (more recently) and surprisingly pleasing Tom Parker-Bowles all maintaining one's interest.

The downside for Dame Crusty was the inclusion of Tana Ramsay at its inception (wife of the aforementioned alleged scoundrel). On the personalityomoter, set at a very delicate and highly sensitive setting of zero to one, Mrs R struggled to make the needle twitch.

One night in the main drawing room I remember watching a delightful recipe, while Chu Me sat in the corner furiously rubbing something - I presume it was the silver but the bulb had blown next to the book shelves so I am unsure of the detail. I screamed at Chu Me " MY GOD! TANA'S FALLEN ON THE FLOOR!!".

Chu Me screamed and lept up; my heart was pounding and then I realised all was well; the chef had simply dropped his wooden spoon.

Poor Chu Me didn't know whether he was coming or going, I can tell you.

Marital problems are never a pleasant experience and I certainly hope Mr and Mrs Ramsay can solve any problems they have; I certainly hope it will not influence his preparation of my Creamy Drizzle the next time I visit his establishment.

I am quite sure the fashionably thin Tana will realise why he did what he did, if in fact he did do it with whom he is supposed to have done it with and all will be glorious in the garden of life once more.

Poshtoria, on the other hand, must realise that David is one of those creatures who is equally adored and lusted after by millions; by women and men alike, so she must feel resigned to feeling uncomfortable at any social function.

Just remember, dear, you both have been joined in matrimony under the eyes and blessing of the good Lord and have successfully continued to breed. Those things alone are special enough to create a life long bond.

Having said that, Crusty is always here if you need to talk.