I have to tell you I am getting tired of taking calls from HMRC who keep telling me that there is an arrest warrant in my name for tax evasion. “Press one”, said the semi-disembowelled voice. So I did. “Hello,” came the Indian voice. “How can I help you?” “Well, you’ve just phoned me to say there’s an arrest warrant in my name because of tax evasion. What should I do?” Then it got sillier. I was reading the latest issue of Private Eye and the name that leapt out at me was Tim Martin, the owner of the Wetherspoon group of pubs. “I’m Tim Wetherspoon.”

On we went. I was asked to spell ‘my’ name. “T-I-M”. “And your udder name?” “Oh, Wetherspoon, like the boxer but with an ‘e’.” I continued to act dim, not difficult when you are me. “What tax have I evaded?” And the line went dead.

What, pray, is the point of this? A scam , presumably, to swindle me out of some money by finding out my NI number, bank account, various passwords, that sort of thing? But they can’t answer basic questions about what the actual fuck I am supposed to have done.

Clearly, it’s someone taking a punt that I was a money man, with my riches stuffed away in the Cayman Islands, hoping they might strike lucky, but the assumption must be that very rich people are remarkably stupid and gullible. That’s always possible, I suppose, but I am not rich and, on a good day, not stupid and gullible.

Someone must fall for this nonsense, hence the fact that so many people warn their fellow social media users to be careful. Or, to put it another way, they must think their social media friends are so stupid they will fall for scams.

A few minutes later and I had the same call from different voices but after I pressed one, the Indian man asked why I had called him. “You called me, you fucking bell end,” I replied, all friendly like.  And to my disgust, he immediately hung up.

I feel like ringing this people myself to turn the tables. Most of them sound stupid, I reckon I could make a few bob from them.