Over at The Dabbler this week, I am prompted to discuss such non-Hooting Yardy topics as dosh, booze, foopball, politics, and seventies rock. All at one fell swoop. You will be pleased to note that my piece is illustrated with a not entirely gratuitous photograph of monopod Jethro Tull flautist Ian Anderson.

This week I treat Dabbler readers to the unsurpassable beauty of my bird psychology diagrams. It occurs to me that these designs would be perfect if applied to, say, tea trays, for the ferrying of cups of tea between counter and table in a small, shabby seaside cafeteria. Thus, while slurping their tea in between bouts of chronic wheezing, the invalids who have come to the seaside resort in a last ditch attempt to relieve their hideous illnesses could gain a useful education in certain abstruse strains of ornithology, and much good would it do them.

In The Dabbler this week my cupboard contains a shorter version of the piece on Pontoppidan from the other day. So nothing new there for Hooting Yard readers, though it does provide me with a pretext for posting another picture of the periwigged kraken expert. Et voila!

This week in my cupboard at The Dabbler, a memoir of the toffee apple wrappers of my childhood. Is it a true memory, or have I just made it up? And will you ever know? These are by no means important questions, and yet you may find them niggling away at you as the day goes on, and the night, and the following day, and the following night, until you are driven to distraction, desperate to know the answers once and for all, yet remaining forever in doubt.

Over at The Dabbler today, I examine an episode from the life of the noted simpleton, Simple Simon. His adversary, the pieman, also appears in this tale, and not, it must be said, in a good light. As in all the best fables, a moral is drawn at the end, though not a very enlightening one.

Over at The Dabbler this week, a brief note on a topic dear, I am sure, to all our hearts – the Toc H lamp!

This week in The Dabbler I present a round-up of exciting new apps for those of you who carry about hand-held computerised devices. I eschew such newfangled gewgaws myself, but that is no reason to miss the opportunity to make my fortune. If millions, or indeed billions of fatheads buy one of my apps, I shall not be complaining.

One app I forgot to mention in the piece is the iPadde, named after Knud Padde, a minor character in the Danish television crime drama Forbrydelsen. This handy app does instant translations into Danish of common phrases such as “computer password fuckup” and “girl power wet tee-shirt competition”.

This week in my cupboard I introduce readers of The Dabbler to the unique genius of Norman Davies and his Further Science. As a reminder, here is the great man’s lesson on Hedge Auras:

1. That April Foliage Plants are quilt padded.

2. May – pixie rain hoods / hysteria swarthy.

3. June – veiny crimp.

4. July – pastel / soft milky downy / silky.

5. August – thorny quilt /metal filigree.

6. September – pastel flame thorny and pointed hairs.

7. October – hard burn arrow blisters and round berries. Etc

Over at The Dabbler this week, a (slightly belated) birthday celebration for the “Asiatic woman” Kenneth Williams thought was married to Ringo Starr.

In The Dabbler this week I recount a poignant childhood anecdote. Or it might be a figment of my imagination. Thereagain, it could be the fruit of Recovered Memory Syndrome.

Which is it? You decide! Call 0374562893 if you think it is an anecdote, 0647118736 if you think I am delusional, or 09367639877 if you think I have fallen victim to Recovered Memory Syndrome shysters. Calls are charged according to a fiendishly complicated tariff protocol so do not even think about trying to comprehend it.

Alternatively, if you are too cowardly to engage with the tariff protocol, you can register your vote here:

In The Dabbler today I consider the film director Pabstus Tack, with a look at his trilogy featuring ponies and bees and bats. Well, a pony and a bee and a bat, to be precise. Go and read it and then come back here and hit that Donate button. You will feel a warm glow in the cockles of your heart, guaranteed.

Any of you who aspire to thespian magnificence would do well to turn to my cupboard in The Dabbler this week, where you get the chance to cut your chops on the famous “Blenkinsop!” speech. Not only are you given the full, uncorrupted text, without all the usual pigstraw addenda, but there are some questions and exercises included, to test your comprehension, your wits, and your thespian magnificence, even if that magnificence is still in utero. Hie thee hence, budding “Sir” Ben Kingsleys!

I hesitate to provide this link to my cupboard in The Dabbler on this fine Friday, for this week I have chosen to besmirch the pages of that splendid blog with a stream of pure unbridled filth. Those of you who, in spite of that warning, proceed to wallow in a swamp of moral turpitude may be amused to discover that, in the Comments, a fellow named George has devised a diverting parlour game which will provide much fun and frolic to those who commandeer their parlours for the playing of games.

If you find yourself at a loose end, why not gather some pals and reenact an important and exciting scene from the Old Testament? Full instructions can be found in my cupboard at The Dabbler. Please note that Mr Key takes no responsibility whatsoever in the event that you find yourself burned to a crisp and requiring a lengthy spell in a clinic.