Allow me to remind you of this competition: closing date for entries is Friday Sept 21 at midnight
Sometimes Piers Stefan Pughe-Morgan makes me think of a boy I knew at school.
My classmate had a rather more prosaic name, David. Like Piers, David was very clever in many ways - producing, at 11 or 12, powerful home-made catapults, cigarette rollers and electric shock machines - but he was always in desperate trouble for being a prankster, shirker and all-round rascal.
Whether Morgan had an inventive sort of mind when small I do not know. He became a successful tabloid newspaper editor, and inventiveness may well come in handy in that line of business.
But just as David was never far from painful retribution at school, Piers Morgan skated on ever-thinning ice in his newspaper career as he ploughed into all sorts of mischief-making scrapes. Ultimately he was sacked by the Daily Mirror for publishing faked pictures of British soldiers abusing an Iraqi prisoner.
Since then, he has carved out a mostly flourishing second career. As a celebrity. Morgan is disdainful of people who are famous for little more than being famous, but he cheerfully admits that he more or less falls into the same category (at Salut! Sunderland, I suggested "famous for being infamous" as a viable alternative).
Before I get to the subject of my latest little competition, let me say that I have never met Morgan and bear him no grudge.
A few years ago, I saw him make a very funny speech honouring a good friend, Sydney Young, who was retiring after decades on the Mirror. Morgan answered critics who accused him of dumbing down the paper by recalling the diet of meaningless drivel and soap star snippets that filled the pages on the day Syd started work there.
And I find his books about editing and his celebrity life rather amusing. A daughter recently gave me one of them - Don't You Know Who I Am? - as a birthday present. It is packed with anecdotes, embellished or otherwise, of Morgan's encounters with assorted stars, wannabe stars and - oddly enough - hoodies and makes me chuckle as often as it infuriates.
Beyond offering ample evidence of Morgan's ability to drain wine and champagne lakes in Depardieu fashion, the book has nothing to do with France, so comes within the "more besides" part of my banner description.
But I could not let one glaring piece of hypocrisy go without comment - and this is where you, and your powers of wit, come in.
Staying with his children and brother Rupert at a five-star resort in Sardinia to write a travel feature for the Mail, Morgan noticed that a young man nearby was taking photographs of him.
"What are you doing, mate?" Morgan demanded to know. "Taking your picture," came the "sneering" reply. "Why, don't you like it being done to you?"
A fairly stupid altercation then developed as Morgan, aided and abetted by his brother, continued to make their objections clear and the young man, described in the book as "the kind of burly-but-dim rugby player you get in Fulham wine bars", carried on snapping.
When security staff intervened, Morgan's even burlier sibling explained that "these idiots keep taking pictures of my brother".
I do not know how many times as an editor - News of the World as well as the Mirror - Piers Morgan dispatched reporters and photographers abroad with instructions to intrude on the holidays of celebs, footballers or errant politicians.
He admits he has now become a casualty of the curse of celebrity, too.
But he also says: "Getting abused by drunken morons is the not the way I want to lead the rest of my life."
A copy of Morgan's book goes to the reader who comes up with the best line the burly-but-dim snapper should have come up with in response to his protests - or merely the wittiest or most incisive comment on the episode.
I will close the competition at midnight French time on Friday September 22, and my decision will be final.
* Piers Morgan: Don't You Know Who I Am? Insider Diaries of Fame, Power and Naked Ambition..... Published by Ebury Press. £17.99....
Many thanks to Ebury for kindly co-operating with my competition.
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