I fear our privacy may be about to be invaded again, judging by this excerpt from Piers Morgan's diary in the Mail on Sunday:
"Just two weeks after his Liberal Democrat boss Nick Clegg suffered national humiliation from our GQ encounter (the one in which 'Cleggover' revealed to me how many women he'd slept with, and how good he is in bed...) I was invited, yes invited, to sit down for two hours and interview his housing spokesman, Lembit Opik.
My first reaction, before we met, was, "Why the hell is he doing this?"
My second reaction, on departing from his office as the sun blinked down over the yardarm, was, "Why the hell did he do that?"
I can't reveal too much at this stage, except to say that Lembit wanted to focus on the "big political issues affecting the country".
And I preferred to dwell on sex, drugs, cosmic energy and his bedroom arrangements with the Cheeky Girls.
I can't work out if the Lib Dems are committing this collective political suicide deliberately to raise their celebrity profiles, or whether they really are as dim as they seem."
Those of a sensitive disposition may wish to avoid the next issue of GQ magazine. I promise to read it, so you don't have to.