If you were rich - I mean filthy, stinking rich - would there be any limits to what you'd do? Would you ever find yourself getting out your triple platinum American Express card and buying that 44th Alfa Romeo Spider for your huge underground car park because it came in a shade of red that you didn't already have, and think hang on, isn't this a bit self-indulgent?'. Or would you just hang the consequences and buy ten of 'em, just because you could?

I don't think I'd like to be that rich. Not because I don't have the imagination to blow huge amounts of money (life-sized chocolate Tyrannosaurus Rex? Lovingly-recreated Mos Eisley spaceport cantina from Star Wars at the bottom of the garden? See, money can buy you happiness) but because I'd probably just feel too guilty at spending colossal amounts of money on really pointless things.

That's not to say I wouldn't spend huge amounts of money on really pointless things, just that there's got to be a line in the sand. Perhaps when that big lottery win comes, you lose all sense of proportion and it doesn't actually cross your mind that a £60,000 bathroom washbasin is probably not much better than, say a £6,000 washbasin, and look how much you could give to charity and still have a pretty outrageous washbasin anyway?

If the fates are reading this (and I know they are), that doesn't mean that I don't actually want to come into some money, by the way, so don't be saying: "Oh, no point Barnett winning the lottery; he won't spend it properly!"

So in which category, I wonder, does the story about Eddie Healey procuring the services of Girls Aloud to entertain him at his birthday party belong?

To clarify: Mr Healey, a billionaire, apparently spent £125,000 on hiring the band - featuring, of course, Bradford's very own Kimberley Walsh - to play a 45 minute greatest hits set at his 70th birthday bash.

Mr Healey was, it was reported, overheard to say during their performance that he wished he was a bit younger so that he could date all of them.

Frivolous and extravagant such an expenditure might be, but I can't help but let it raise a smile.

There aren't many pensioners who can afford to blow nearly half a million on their own birthday party, and I find it difficult to begrudge an old man having a good time when he's presumably worked hard for his billions.

It's the sort of story that makes me mutter, "you old dog", in an affectionate kind of way. Never mind those millionaires who spend their loot trying to balloon around the world or buying some rubbish football team; here's a 70-year-old bloke who likes the look of a bit of that pop totty and has shelled out the readies to have a bit of a laugh with them himself. You can't really say fairer than that, can you?

Unfortunately, however, Mr Healey lets himself fall at the final hurdle. Not only did he hire Girls Aloud for the party at the Dorchester ballroom on London's Park Lane, but he also employed the services of Russ Abbot and Bobby Davro.

I'm sorry, Eddie, but there's just no excuse for that!