So I got a message from that Mr Phil. "Can't type. Still blubbing over Sobral from last week. Please actually DO the Vault for once instead of telling me to. Free choice."

Well fair enough. So it got me to thinking - what if you found yourself in the very realistic situation (it could happen any moment now, it really could) where you've just won the Eurovisie Songfestivalthing for the UK of Stuff with an all-time record score (which could theoretically have been topped in almost only the previous year), then casually gone off and sold a million copies and spent six weeks at number one and had the nation's thirteenth biggest selling hit of the decade? You'd quite rightly think - let's just check in to a Caribbean hotel built from solid money and relax by a pool full of money on a sun lounger made of money and sip long glasses of money through a money straw. Or at least, I would.

Not our intrepid heroes, the Brotherhood of Man, though. When the call came in from the record company explaining that there was literally nothing lined up for the rest of the summer except Demis Roussos and the Wurzels and that was proving a bit of a worry really and could they please come up with something just dissimilar enough to their chart topping smash that they could claim it as a different song because the executives would quite like some more money, they exclaimed - why yes!

We've actually got something half written with a working title of "Won't You Save Me A Snog Even Though You Are A Dog".

And that, I imagine, is pretty much how this happened.