Ö÷²¥´óÐã

Aaarrgggh! I HATE CHRISTMAS PARTIES. I hate them, hate them. And it's not just the enforced socialising, the mistletoe and the crackers which trigger my startle reflexes and then have rubbish gifts in.

This week alone, I've been invited to three entirely separate Christmas-based party celebrations, which is quite stressful for a miserable crippled world-hater like me. Happily, I was legitimately able to turn two of them down because they took place on the second floor of buildings without functional lifts. I threatened to sue the organisers of both those events and look forward to the compensation.

The third do, I had to attend, mainly because the organisers had bothered to check there were no steps and an accessible loo. Blimey!
It was predictably nightmarish. No steps ... but rubbish guests.

Disabled readers of this column, although you disgust me more than I can possibly ever articulate, I do care about you. You're 'vulnerable' like little me and I don't want you to have the same awful Christmas social hell. I'd like to present the Disability Bitch guide to avoiding getting trapped at parties. Follow my rules, and you won't go wrong:

"You'll always find me in the wheelchair at parties

It's likely that any venue you are forced to party in will only have about three accessible seats among acres of shiny dancefloor - which I find is so much better for slipping over on, dont' you? It'll also have a few dozen tall barstools which only very well-balanced people can sit on.

Many discerning disabled party-goers prefer to sit down rather than stand up. The ones who don't, will probably find themselves ushered to the nearest seat by a well meaning yet idiotic Normal Person anyway, within seconds of entering the venue.

Once seated, you will find yourself approached by several other Normal People who probably used to be in the Boy Scouts and think they are doing a good turn by speaking to you. Unfortunately, this type regularly turn out to be the dullest human beings on the planet. Once cornered, you will find yourself trapped there for hours.

Tip: Arrange with a friend to look in on you occasionally and rescue you if this happens. I'm assuming you have friends. If you don't, bribe a barman.

Startle reflex alert!

Picture the scene: in one hand I have a mobility aid. In the other , a plate full of food. Which hand do you suppose I am eating with? That's right - neither!

Readers, buffet meals are an affront to cripple-kind. If you don't drop the food on the floor, you'll tip it down your front, and you can count yourself lucky if you don't inadvertently wobble into the buffet table. What's absolutely certain is that none of it will get in your mouth.

Tip: Usually, I end up skipping food altogether and concentrating on drinking which, after all, I can do one-handed. I'm not saying this is a good idea, and the Ö÷²¥´óÐã thinks you should drink responsibly, but at least if you fall over as a result of being drunk, you can blame it on your disease ... I mean disability.

... party like you were on Top of the Pops

As we continue to raid the Ö÷²¥´óÐã's photo library and fail to find anything with a Christmas and disability theme, it's rule number three.

Now, I'm not saying drunken idiots will steal your walking stick / wheelchair / crutches / guide dog, but if you do have a mobility aid of any kind, don't be surprised if you see a drunken reveller spinning around the dance floor with it at 3am.

Usually this will happen after they've spent half an hour trying to persuade you, someone who can hardly walk, to stand up and dance. You've said no, so they steal your mobility aid, demonstrate that they can dance with it - and, to them, that's enough proof they need to show that you could do it too, if you wanted to. Don't ask me why, but Normal People seem to find discarded mobility aids an irresistible temptation at Christmastime.

Of course, if you tell them you hate them for it, they will accuse you of being a dull party pooper. If you're anything like me, you probably are a dull party pooper, but still! Just superglue it to your hand and threaten to hit people with it at every available opportunity.

Tip: Don't actually hit anyone with it; violence is wrong and you'll get arrested.

Mince pies. A bit like pastry wheels from a chair

In the unlikely event the party venue has a disabled loo, the chances are it will be occupied by at least two non-disabled people snogging or making the beast with two backs for the duration of the evening. Just give up already,

Tip: If you're feeling vindictive, take your RADAR key and unlock the door to expose the guilty parties when it will cause them maximum humiliation. Try not to wee on them.

Yes, readers, follow these simple rules and you know you won't go wrong. Have fun! Happy Christmas. See you next decade. XXX

It's a bumper week, Mills watchers. And, oh the drama! Last week I reported that Heather's ex-husband and ex-Beatle Paul McCartney had said marrying Heather was his worst mistake of the decade. But, readers, Sir Paul said . He said these things happen, and he has a beautiful daughter out of it. Whatever.

After an extended absence, Heather's and - as if she wasn't disabled enough already - says she's broken two of her ribs. Speculation mounts that this injury is for the forthcoming celebrity reality show Dancing on Ice.

Also on Twitter, she's revealed she is in America to give a speech on behalf of a charity which supports disabled kids. What a trooper!

Heather needs to watch her step. There's a new crip in town. At least, . We've been speculating about Dawn French's sudden use of a walking stick, which she did at least co-ordinate with her jacket. Apparently she has a knee injury. The Daily Mail , mentioning that, "It's not known whether [Dawn's] injury was linked to her weight, however it is well known that heavier people tend to have problems with mobility." Get the insider track on fatness implications from your number one Mail.