About 20-odd years ago, The sun offered a £1 million reward to anyone who could prove that Elvis Presley was alive. Even though The King was widely accepted to have keeled over in 1977, it sparked a spate of Elvis sightings across Britain. During a month of madness, he was spotted in garden centres, pubs and supermarkets the length and breadth of the country. It was great fun while it lasted, spawning a whole raft of Elvis impersonators desperate to claim the reward. Come to think of it, just about the last time anyone saw Gordon Brown he was in the company of an Elvis impersonator. He hasn't been seen in public since his failure to cobble together a coalition with the Lib Dems, which would have allowed him to cling to office even though Labour lost the election. Where is he? Former Prime Minister Gordon Brown hasn't been seen for weeks Gordon didn't turn up for the Opening of Parliament and has been conspicuous by his absence ever since. Friends are said to be worried about his state of mind, and there are persistent rumours that he is mainlining antidepressants. Of course, this isn't the first time he's gone missing. He was nowhere to be found on a number of occasions when Labour ran into trouble, starting with the petrol blockade in 2000. Don't worry if you're not 100 per cent certain, he could be in disguise. He may have undergone plastic surgery, which would explain his mysterious disappearance over the past few weeks. There could even be a few Gordon Brown body doubles sent out to confuse the posse, but every lead must be followed up. If you see a man in a sports jacket on the beach, approach with caution, especially if he is mumbling to himself: 'I agree with Nick' or 'This is a global crisis which began in America'. All sightings will be taken seriously and will go to our hand-picked panel of experts for adjudication. This is a limited-time offer, and the judges' decision will be final. While photographic evidence is helpful, in order to claim the reward, Gordon must be produced in person. There was a report this week that he had been sighted in Cowdenbeath, but this is still subject to confirmation. For all we know, it could have been a Gordon Brown impersonator. So today this column is offering a reward to anyone who can prove that Gordon is still alive. Obviously, £1 million is out of the question, but we can probably run to a bottle of champagne. if you spot Gordon on your travels, take a photo of him and send it to me at the Daily Mail, either by post or email. The same rules applied when The sun offered £1 million for Elvis. One day, the story goes, there was a call from reception to the newsroom. A man in the front office wanted to speak to a reporter. The nearest hack was despatched downstairs, where he was confronted by a bloke with slickedback, jet-black hair, in a hunka hunka Burnin' Love jumpsuit, circa Elvis in Vegas 1974. 'Can i help you?' 'I am Elvis Presley and i have come to claim my £1 million.' 'That's all very well, but can you prove it?' At this, the man burst into a chorus of Blue suede shoes. 'Well, it's a-one for the money . . .' 'Very impressive,' said the reporter, ' But I'm afraid I'm still not convinced.' 'Why not? Don't I look like Elvis Presley?' 'Up to a point.' 'What do you mean, up to a point?' 'Well, sir, we have to be absolutely sure before we can hand over the reward. And there are one or two discrepancies.' 'Discrepancies?' 'For a start, our files show that Elvis was approximately 6ft tall and you appear to be no more than 5ft 4in.' 'There's something else.' 'What's that?' 'There's no record of Elvis having a withered arm.' 'I've been in an accident.' 'One last thing . . .' 'Yes?' 'To the best of my knowledge, Elvis Presley wasn't a Pakistani.' The man was crestfallen. 'Does this mean that I won't be getting the £1 million reward?' 'I'm afraid so, sir.' 'In that case, could you lend me a pound for my bus fare back to Tottenham?' World Cup joke: Chris Evans The best joke of the World Cup so far came from DJ Chris Evans. 'You give an African £2 a month and what do they do? Buy a bloody trumpet!' it was a dig at the infuriating racket made by the ubiquitous vuvuzela. But now Evans has been forced to apologise after complaints that it was 'racist' and 'a bit Bernard Manning'. He stands accused of making fun of poverty. For crying out loud. Evans didn't even tell the gag on the wireless, he posted it on Twitter. It wasn't his joke in the first place. He was simply relaying it to a wider audience. More fool him. The internet is overrun by embittered losers desperate to take offence on behalf of others. Twitter is their anonymous bully pulpit. One wrote: 'Chris Evans is a backward racist. Let's make jokes about gingers and see how he likes it.' Whoever posted that wouldn't dare say it to his face. When a celebrity like Chris Evans surrenders to the electronic lynch mob, it only encourages them. The joke wasn't racist, it was funny. Full stop. Evans should have told them to stick it up their vuvuzelas. The last flush of youth Lack of energy, tiredness, irritability, erratic sleep patterns, flagging libido. Sounds about right. I just assumed it was because I am a grumpy old git, falling apart at the seams. But now it appears that I may be suffering from the male menopause. A new study from a team at Manchester University says men, as well as women, suffer a drop in hormone levels in middle age. Doctors have identified a testosterone imbalance known as 'late-onset hypogonadism' in the over-45s. It can be treated by patches, gels and injections. No thanks. Red meat and red wine works for me. A friend of mine who recently turned 50 was suffering from all the above symptoms. He consulted his doctor, who prescribed an intensive course of testosterone. When I saw him this week, his face was bright red. He looked as if he'd sustained first-degree burns. I asked if he'd got sunburn. No, he explained, it was all down to his testosterone treatment. So now he's discovered more conclusive evidence of the male menopause. I thought Hammond was meant to be a Tory This week's edition of Meet The New Boss, same As The Old Boss stars Phillip Hammond, the so-called Tory hardman once earmarked to wield the axe on public spending. Before the election, we were assured he wouldn't bow to noisy vested interests. But instead of becoming Chief secretary to the Treasury, Hammond was shunted off to the Department of Transport. The job he was expecting went to a Liberal Democrat, David Laws, in the coalition carve-up. Even when Laws was forced to resign after just 17 days, because he lied about his parliamentary expenses, Hammond still didn't get the call. The role of Chief secretary passed to Danny Alexander, another Lib Dem. So Hammond was left with a consolation prize. He started brightly, by promising to halt the spread of speed cameras. But now he appears to have caved in at the first time of asking to the militant road safety lobby and is preparing to cut the drink-drive limit on the basis of risible, made-up evidence. If this goes ahead, a large swig of cough syrup could cost you your driving licence. It won't do anything to stop hardened drink-drivers getting behind the wheel. They wouldn't take any notice if the limit was cut to half a pint of milk. Top Cat: Lived in a bin Police will also get the power to set up random road blocks outside every pub car park, which they have been itching to do for years. This is a major extension of Labour's punishment culture and will hit decent and, until now, law-abiding motorists in rural Conservative constituencies hardest of all. It is precisely what the Tories promised they would not do in the run-up to the election. So much for standing up to vested interests. Maybe Hammond wasn't the right man for the Treasury, after all. On Tuesday, I brought you news of the latest elf'n'safety guidelines issued to dustmen, who have been ordered to check all wheelie bins before emptying them to make sure there's no one lurking inside. I couldn't help wondering who in their right mind would want to set up home in a wheelie bin. Reader Jill White reminds me: 'Top Cat lived in a dustbin - and it never did him any harm . . .' 
Have you seen this man? Gordon Brown does a disappearing act...
More from Richard Littlejohn...
No retreat, baby, no surrender
Monday, 21 June 2010
Last updated at 1:01 AM on 20th June 2010
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