Tom Shields on feeling the pinch

Experts at the Buffer Institute have been studying methods of surviving the New Great Depression. The main recommendation is: hide behind the sofa. If anyone in the room turns on a news bulletin or even begins to talk about economic downturn, close your eyes, put your hands over your ears, and sing: "La-la-la, la-la-la, not listening!"

Braver souls may wish merely to lie on the sofa until the crisis is over. This is best done while under a duvet watching a movie. To save money on DVD rental, record your movies from TV on to your digi-box hard disc. Then you can fast-forward through those tedious and repetitive adverts for stuff you can't afford any more anyway.

Since you will be watching even more telly, you might want to invest in one of those sets with a screen as big as Odeon 3. But don't rush to buy, not even at bargain prices on Amazon.

Wait until the looting starts at Curry's and John Lewis, when TV sets and other electrical goods will be available at much more advantageous rates.

Save on fuel bills by watching your duvet movies in a darkened room in front of a roaring fire. Feed the blaze with your HBOS and Bradford & Bingley share certificates, final demands from Scottish Gas, letters from sheriff's officers, and all the junk mail from people trying to sell you stuff you can't afford any more anyway.

Invite your neighbours round to snuggle under your duvet and burn their share certificates and final demands in your grate. These encounters will encourage a community spirit and can be great fun, especially if it's Mr Neighbour's night out at the lodge.

An American website on frugality advises that dumpster-diving is both economical and ecological. Dumpster-diving is what we call midgie-raking. Look, it's not poverty. It's reliving those childhood days searching for "luckies" in rich people's middens.

You can sit down to dinner and say: "This is not just food. This is a beyond-its-sell-by-date risotto I found in the bin behind Marks & Spencer's."

Go vegetarian. Have you seen how cheap the veg is at Lidl these days?

You can buy without waiting for it to end up in the dumpster. If you still hanker after a bit of meat, eat a vegetarian.

Even in tough times, you can still afford a night out. Go down to the pub and buy yourself a half-pint of cooking lager. Nurse this drink until a friend arrives and buys you a pint of Stella, a large Tanqueray and tonic, and a packet of Scampi Fries.

Repeat this with other friends. Once you've had your fill, say you must get home to polish your brass neck.

Dining out with pals can still be enjoyable. Arrange to meet, then phone at the last minute to say you are delayed but will join them at the coffee stage. Turn up just in time to sample some of their entrecote and sauté totties, have a glass of wine, and share their biscuits and cheese. It is unlikely they will ask you to pay a share of the bill. It is unlikely they will go out to dinner with you ever again, which is a saving.

If there is nothing you like on the telly, pop out and catch a movie. Sneak into your neighbour's garden and watch Sky Movies through the window.

This may be necessary if you are not on good terms since the night Mr Neighbour came home early from the lodge meeting and saw what was going on under the duvet.

While in the neighbour's garden, check out any fruit trees from which there will likely be some rich pickings at this time of year.

See more of your relations, especially at mealtimes in their place.

Share medication with elderly relatives. You will be amazed at the good stuff the old folks are on.

You may think that some of these tips are a bit strange. But there are even odder suggestions around. Like Essential magazine's idea of cleaning CDs with peanut butter. Or using mayonnaise on the bairn's nit-infested head rather than an expensive chemical shampoo. (Don't re-use the mayo unless you think it might be nice with lice.) In this spirit of mad frugality, the Buffer Institute also suggests: Don't use your car to get to work. Run after a bus but never catch it. You will not only save on bus fares but also on expensive monthly gym fees.

Turn your underpants inside out and wear for a second day. More frugally, turn your underpants outside in and wear for a second week.

Tippex out the answers on a crossword you have already done, wait a month, and do the puzzle again. This works especially well if your memory is not as good as it was.

Eat more pulses. They're cheap, healthy and will make life even warmer under the duvet.

Shower with your partner. Or Mrs Neighbour, if Mr Neighbour is out again at his lodge meeting.

Invite friends to dinner on an all-the-pasta-you-can eat-for-£9.95 basis.

Turn up at the GFT or Filmhouse with two jeely jaurs, and complain vociferously if this appears no longer to be an accepted payment for the pictures.

To make significant savings you will have to examine a major source of expenditure: the children. Putting teenagers through university is no longer an option for families on limited budgets.

Persuade the young ones to leave home and pursue a military career. They can enlist as young as 16 and the Ministry of Defence might even send them through university.

At the very least, they will be guaranteed free food and clothing and trips abroad to hot, sunny and, very likely, sandy destinations.

Encourage younger children to develop skills such as shoplifting or mugging. This will enable them to obtain vital items such as iPods, Wiis, trainers, and Diamond White cider without putting a strain on the family budget.

It is more difficult to make the very young self-financing, and the only option may be to put them up for sale on eBay.

Seriously, readers who still have assets worth a few bob will want to know what to do with such things stocks and shares, gilts, bonds, and luncheon vouchers. The Buffer's expert view is to go liquid. Really liquid.

Tesco wine club and the Wine Society have some marvellous offers. Buy as much wine as you can and store it under the bed away from family, friends, and neighbours who visit on the pretext of having a shot of your duvet.

AND finally, with all that home dining, you will be looking for interesting new recipes. We can recommend The Testicle Cookbook: Cooking With Balls.

The cookbook lives up to what it says on the cover. Available in multimedia format on a website called yudu.com/testicles, it contains such delights as a video of author Ljubomir Erovic, who is described as a testicle cook and gourmet from Serbia, peeling and slicing frozen gonads. You may wish to try Mr Erovic's recipe for Italian pizza with Serbian balls. He recommends balls from bulls, stallions, or ostriches rather than the human variety.

I have tasted bulls' cojones over in sunny Spain, and cannot endorse entirely this culinary commodity. Readers should also be aware that all the recipes in this book contain nuts.

This article is dedicated to my brother Archie, who died on Friday. Archie was a man of great gentle humour who filled his life with music and the elevation of bread-and-butter pudding into an art form</>