There comes a point in everyone’s sad and lonely life when you realise you’ve inadvertently just had…

[dramatic pause]

…a dinner party.

It might not be as grand or as fancy the ones you see on television, you may not have your own special cutlery set that you only use for special occasions, you may not have served coffee out of a cafetiere, but you had a dinner party alright, and by God was it civilised.

Other tell tale signs that you’ve just had a dinner party include:

You had dinner.

You all sat at a table.

No one was sick.

There’s no urine on your toilet seat.

There are no cigarette butts in wine glasses.

You cleaned up after everyone left.

Anyway, the point of all this is on Saturday night we had friends round for dinner. I won’t tell you their names, because it’s of no consequence to this story, but I will tell you that for starters we had butternut squash and blue cheese risotto, for main course we had monkfish wrapped in parma ham, and I forget what we had for dessert because I’d drunk too much by that point. No one cares about dessert anyway, everyone knows it was the easy bit on Masterchef. We’d all had a fair bit to drink when a one of them (we’ll call them K) asked me if I’d heard of Shredding.

My initial excitement that I was about to partake in some depraved and twisted communal sexual act with our guests soon faded as K continued to explain that Shredding involved taking an existing piece of film and putting a new audio track to it. Still, it was quite funny I suppose. Here are two of my favourites:

KISS Shreds

John Williams Shreds

(Note to northerners – the dinner party is a prime example of why lunch is called lunch, and not dinner. Dinner is a meal you have in the evening. The sooner you accept this, the better for everyone involved.)