Wednesday, December 1

A new survey by The Sun found that 10% of British citizens want to see me in their Christmas stockings, while only 11% desire to meet One Direction’s Harry Styles.

At 56, it’s gratifying to know I’m only one per cent less desirable than the world’s top pop heartthrob.

Thursday, December 2,

Arsenal played Manchester United tonight and I sent Cristiano Ronaldo a desperate plea before kick-off: ‘Please don’t score against us…’

I (Piers Morgan) would have accepted Cristiano Ronaldo's (above) apology if it hadn’t also contained a laughing emoji

I (Piers Morgan) would have accepted Cristiano Ronaldo’s (above) apology if it hadn’t also contained a laughing emoji

Naturally, he scored again, and United won 3-2. ‘Sorry,’ Cristiano texted back after the final whistle.

I would have accepted the apology if it hadn’t also contained a laughing emoji.

Friday, December 3,

Clive Myrie is the BBC’s ubiquitous new face of unimpeachable decency. 

So imagine my surprise when I watched him guest-host Have I Got News For You tonight and say ‘Viewers of Good Morning Britain claimed to have spotted a teddy bear in Susanna Reid’s knee’, as a picture appearing to confirm this ludicrous assertion appeared on screen.

‘To be fair,’ he added, ‘Susanna’s knee only looks like that after repeatedly kneeing Piers Morgan in the b******s.’

(‘Why?’ asked Paul Merton. ‘Has he got teddy-bear-shaped b******s?’)

The panel and audience roared with laughter, but I didn’t.

Aside from ‘Saint’ Clive’s offensive language, it was disappointing to see him and his colleagues so gleefully celebrate violence in the workplace, without a thought for how this might trigger my mental-health trauma over Susanna’s brutal attacks.

Monstrous Myrie needs to be immediately canceled. But on a positive note, I’m available to replace him as host of Mastermind.

Sunday, December 5,

After serving in many wars over 35 years, my brother Jeremy will be leaving the Army.

He’s a massive Genesis superfan, so as a mark of gratitude for his heroic dedication to protecting our country, I decided to take him to possibly the band’s last-ever UK concert at London’s O2 arena – sitting in a VIP box with Angie Rutherford, wife of Genesis guitarist Mike Rutherford, a golfing pal who’s keenly aware of my sibling’s lifelong devotion to his music.

‘Fantastic!’ Jeremy exclaimed delightedly, before revealing he’d also bought tickets for the other two O2 shows.

Then tragedy struck. Mike, along with other members of the band, got Covid. And then, gigs were cancelled.

Jeremy (55) took the situation well. ‘Short of death, this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me,’ he declared, which, given what he went through in places like Iraq and Afghanistan, was quite a statement.

Mike knew the gravity of this situation. ‘I feel totally responsible for Jeremy missing the O2 shows,’ he messaged me from New York two weeks ago. ‘Tell him I have tix for him at Madison Square Garden if he can get out here.’

I got him out there, and tonight, he and his wife Sue sat in the best seats at the fabled MSG and enjoyed what he said was an ‘utterly brilliant show’ and ‘an experience beyond my wildest dreams’.

Mike, thanks so much for being generous and Jeremy, for all your help.

Monday 6 December

Radio Times asked Sir Rod Stewart if he felt Good Morning Britain would be better without him.

‘I love Piers,’ he replied, ‘and I miss him badly. He had a great relationship with politicians. I think they go to the University of Avoiding Answers.’

They do, Sir Rod, but don’t worry, I’ll be back holding them to account again soon.

Tuesday, December 7,

Piers is endangered. BabyCentre, an online parental site, revealed that no one registered Piers’ name in their 2021 database (Muhammad Noah and Oliver being the most popular).

‘Of course, Piers could be on the extinct list for reasons other than fashion!’ sneered the company’s boss, Sarah Redshaw.

However, her joke misses all the point.

Piers is not a popular or fashionable name. There are very few of us (I’ve only met about a dozen others in my entire life, two of whom, incredibly, were also Morgans) and I prefer it that way.

As Oprah and Adele, I am proud to be globally monoonymous. I don’t want a million other Piers stealing my thunder.

Wednesday, December 8

Ant and Dec are the toast of the nation after ripping Boris Johnson to pieces on I’m A Celebrity… So, I was excited to get an invitation to appear in their next series of Takeaway.

Ant and Dec (above) are the toast of the nation after ripping Boris Johnson to pieces on I’m A Celebrity…. recently

Ant and Dec (above) are the toast of the nation after ripping Boris Johnson to pieces on I’m A Celebrity…. Recent

Then I read the script, which involved them going to the Devil’s house, hearing his answer machine go off and my voice say: ‘Hey Dev, it’s your boy Piers Morgan here. Are we still here for Friday’s drink? Lads, lads, lads! Lemme know, mate!’

To which Dec says ‘Appalling!’ and Ant nods: ‘I know! Can you believe the most evil man in the history of the universe… is calling the Devil?’

They can invite their Geordie friends up to their sexy backsides.

Thursday, December 9

This is my last diary before I leave for new televisual, literary and other opportunities with Rupert Murdoch.

In next week’s Mail on Sunday, I’ll revisit the best, worst and funniest moments of my 15 years of partying and scrapping with the world’s most famous people, for a special All-Time Morgan Awards.

But for now, I’d just like to say a sincere thanks to all my regular readers for putting up with my humungous ego, and to the wonderful MoS staff who’ve ensured the often-absurd vagaries of my life are at least presented in a grammatically correct manner.

Nick Bagot, the chief subeditor of our column, has unfortunately passed away at just 50. Nick Sub-Edited my first column in Oct 2006 and has continued working on all of them since then, even though he was ill.

He was both a gifted journalist and an exceptional person.

This column is dedicated to Nick. RIP.