Peter Rhodes: No earldoms on offer

THE curse of predictive texting. A friend and I provided ukulele-and-songs entertainment for a Christmas party under our performing names of Two Old Pluckers. We appeared in the programme as Two Old Plonkers. Our complaint was not upheld.

AFTER last week's item on rhubarb vodka, a reader says you can make it at home. There are loads of recipes on the internet but the essentials are: chop rhubarb, steep in sugar, add spices, add bottle of cheap vodka. Shake every few days (the liquid, that is, not you) and drink after three weeks.

PRINCE Andrew denies falling out with his brother the Prince of Wales. It was reported that Andrew had asked Charles to ensure that anyone marrying his daughters, The Princesses Beatrice and Eugenie, would be given an earldom. Totally untrue, apparently. One thing remains likely, however. It is that whoever marries the globe-trotting daughters of the prince usually known as Airmiles Andy will be guaranteed lots and lots of holidays.

SPORT depends on one of the most successful partnerships in history. TV companies pay massive amounts to cover sports. Advertisers pay massive amounts to slot their ads in between the action. Everybody assumes that the money will roll in for ever. But what if audiences began declining? That's the forecast in what must be one of the most under-reported stories of the year. A research company, Ampere Analysis, examined the viewing tastes of 30,000 people and found that kids aged 18-24, the computer-connected younger part of the so-called millennial generation, were significantly less interested in watching sport than older folk. The researchers are urging broadcasters and sports bodies to "encourage millennials back to sport." Good luck with that. Those of us born without the sporting gene are not shocked. The only surprise is that the fascination of watching 22 blokes kick a ball around has gripped us for so long. Computers have changed everything. If it's a choice between watching 90 bleak minutes of football or heroically destroying the Evil Empire's Galactic Cruiser in surround-sound 3D, just pass me the laser-blasters, captain.

THE legendary hack A A Gill has died just three weeks after announcing he had cancer. Inevitably, as the obituary writers trawl through the cuttings they will dig up his appearances before the Press Complaints Commission and his occasional swipes at the Welsh, the English, Norfolk and Clare Balding. Some may choose to remember him as a racist, sexist, homophobe; one charmer on the internet has even suggested that Gill's cancer is karma for the baboon he shot on a big-game trip. The truth is that Gill was a great observer who wrote like an angel. But in this age of the Snowflake Generation, when taking offence has become a national sport and being the most hurt person in any gathering is an achievement, it is almost impossible to write anything amusing, insightful, sharp or meaningful without offending some prat. Oops, there I go again.

"EU leaders richly deserved Brexit and British voters were right to give them it." Historian and columnist Niall Ferguson, admitting he was wrong to argue against Brexit and is now relieved to be "back on the right side." There is plenty of time for all you other sinners to repent.