OMG. Recovering from a night out on the town with a client from New York. He is keen to foist a chain of “real American” frozen yoghurt stores on the unsuspecting UK population which, despite having never shown any interest in yoghurty products before (apart from yoghurt), is judged by the Yanks to be “gagging for it, as you Brits say.”

Thus the evening turns into a London vs NYC credibility battle, which we win by drinking vastly more than is sensible and surprising our client (who apparently, like most Americans, spent his formative years in Bible college) with the entertainment on offer at Madame Jo-Jo’s.

This means that (a) the client has cancelled UK launch plans (protesting that any nation that can permit the existence of a club night called Tranny Shack is never going to appreciate the purity of Uncle Sam’s FroYo), and (b) I haven’t got the energy to get worked up about the demise of Chokablok, Tesco’s only decent imitation brand. As it happens, a post-hangover tub and some paracetamol are easing me into the working day (OK, afternoon) and this may be my last chance to revel in its pretend quality. They should have axed Parodyoli, the fake pasta range, instead. Nobody likes that.

My Chokablok intake would probably be thwarted by Unilever’s new ‘behaviour engine,’ which “helps shoppers be healthier.” I’m assuming that in true lab rat style, it delivers small electric shocks to your wrists as you reach for unhealthy foods. I think the behemoth’s boffins’ time would have been better spent building a device to curb the wandering hands of confused American food execs in Soho nightclubs. That way we might still have the account.