I remember "Here comes DJ Disco Tex, dancing with his Sex-o-lettes, get dancing" (you had to be there)...

I remember following Pauline Cope around like a lost puppy. I didn't mean anything by it. Nothing untoward anyway.

I remember a zillion sketches from Morecambe And Wise, Monty Python, Not The Nine O'Clock News, even The Fast Show - but nothing from Little Britain.

I remember snogging Sue Joines. That might not be how she spelled her name. And she might not have remembered it as snogging. She was my girlfriend's brother's girlfriend and neither of them (my girlfriend and her brother) treated us (me and Sue) right. We had an enjoyable trip up to the King's Road once and I bought Frank Zappa's live album Fillmore East, June 1971, on cassette. I have since bought it on CD. The snogging I remember was more of a hug, but I did try to touch her around the frontal chest area. She withdrew... I didn't mean anything by it. Nothing untoward anyway.

I remember signing the online petition to make Pete Seeger a nominee for the Nobel Peace Prize. You too can sign it here.

I remember my uncle Arthur - except I can't, because he was killed at the end of the Second World War, after shooting himself by mistake while cleaning his rifle. I wish I'd known him, because my mum tells me he was always in demand at parties, being very good at vamping along on the piano at sing-songs. Any way, even though I didn't know him, on this day every year, especially as they play the Last Post, I do remember him.

I remember Jennifer and Ren getting married - can it really be 11 years ago this evening? - and the amazing effort the staff at Hammersmith Hospital put in to make it a truly joyous and memorable occasion. There was Champagne and cake, which Eliot did a grand job of serving.

I remember Colin Margerison, production editor at the Mail on Sunday, who I learned today passed away last week. We knew it was coming, but it's still a shock. I never could work out whether he liked me or not, but as he kept booking me in for shifts I suppose he can't have thought I was that much of a prat. There are pictures of Colin here.

I remember one of Thelma's sayings: "Fucking cancer..."