Ladies and gentlemen, if you happen to be in New York tonight, you just might want to get along to The Air Sex World Championships. That’s right, The Air Sex World Championships. The rules are simple: ‘It’s a lot like Air Guitar, but instead of rocking out with an imaginary guitar, you’re making sweet and/or filthy love with an imaginary sex partner’. Ah, yes, fun. Of course.

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I don’t care if Jimmy Hendrix was dragged kicking and screaming from where he lies, put through a torrid round of detox, and handed an invisible guitar – a Flying V carved out of the bones of Robert Johnson. It would still pale in comparison to this. You could throw Eddie Van Halen, Steve Vai, and that cute girl out of Pollyanna into a sack together and refuse to let them out until they had riffed out the greatest guitar solo ever and it would mean nothing. You hear me? Nothing. Because no one will ever play the air guitar better than C. Diddy. This shredding powerhouse is a bubbling furnace of grimaces and twitches, part theatre, part musicianship and completely unwired. Yes sir, there’s a fine line between insanity and genius, and Diddy crossed it about 40 seconds in. But heck, he is the master. The almighty tremolo pickin’, palm shredding master. And we should all bow down now to his holy temple of exuberance. [check out the original Air Guitar hero, Zac 'Mr Magnet' Monro, in action]