Book me in at the Liam Gallagher salon

Salon, and thanks for all the fish: Oasis's Liam Gallagher. Photograph: Dave Hogan/Getty

Conclusive proof that Richard Dawkins is wrong and there is a God: Last week, I read that Liam Gallagher is opening a beauty parlour in my 'hood. This is fantastic news for the people of Belsize Park. Already London's best-looking, best-groomed folk, we can now look forward to Brazilians, blackhead squeezing and having our gnashers put back in after a night of fighting by Mr Sexy Sidewhiskers and his eyebrow plucker, the fragrant Nicole Appleton.

Do you remember footage of Ringo Starr with his ladeez' hair salon? Not sure if it was genuine or fictitious, but the idea behind it was that once the Beatles has fizzled out, he'd have something tangible to fall back on which would provide him with an income long after the paltry royalties had dried up. I imagine Mr G watched this and a light went on.

I am surprised that he didn't decide on a small supermarket in the Isle of Wight - as John Lennon purchased for his beloved Aunt Mimi - but I suppose that would smack of plagiarism.

I have already thrown a few pennies in a jar in a bid to save up for my first visit to the I Am The Walrus Beauty Salon, and so should you. It is the duty of every right-thinking man and woman in the United Kingdom who has ever harboured notions of musical innovation, verbal communication skill, and leaving Noel alone to write the good songs, to present their arses for waxing to the greatest singer of our generation.