Yes! Well, I'm polymerized tree sap and you're an inorganic adhesive, so whatever verbal projectile you launch in my direction is reflected off of me, returns on its original trajectory and adheres to you.

I have come to the conclusion that TV is a load of rubbish, well almost.

This evening (Monday) there have been four episodes of three soaps a couple of current affairs documentaries and some reality TV. I’m not adverse to the fact that people enjoy soaps, even though they’re primarily tales of human misery, if you didn’t want to open a wrist before watching one you probably do afterwards. The thing is, I like sci-fi, and I make no secret of it, all my friends are aware of it and a fair few share my enthusiasm for it. Last year we had very little by way of sci-fi, we had Ashes to Ashes, whilst technically not science fiction I do enjoy it. We also had a couple of doctor who specials. There was the abysmal failure that was Demon and Primeval. Which was cancelled by ITV, the reason behind the cancellation was that ITV wants to concentrate on more adult drama. What drama? celebrities falling on their backsides, Ant & Dec, washed up singers turning to opera, Ant & Dec, some stupid dating show which involves some egotistical twonk trying desperately to impress a couple of dozen brainless bimbos, Ant & Dec, sport, Ant & Dec, more soap and just in case we feel we’re missing out, Ant & Dec! the BBC aren’t any better, Saturday nights line up comprised of a ridiculous game show which features the contestants trying to injure themselves jumping on giant inflatable balls, another game show in a similar vein. Then there’s another pointless talent show, this one is people throwing themselves around like an epileptic octopus having 4000 volts shove up its left nostril. Sundays are just as bad, the closest thing to anything entertaining was a program that centred on some mad bloke being stuck in a jungle trying to get back to his wedding. Still, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, well sort of. There’s a second season of survivors, a third and final season of ashes to ashes, the remake of the prisoner that seems interesting. But we’ll have the usual pile of mindless rubbish that involves making phone calls to determine which talentless numpty makes it to next week’s brain melting instalment. Some people reading this may get the impression that I don’t like these sort of programs because I’m jealous of the people that have the testicular fortitude to put themselves forward for it, exactly the opposite, I think that some of the people really do have talent. Having sat through last year’s X factor the majority of the finalists could sing. what makes me fume is the fact that the ones who get voted off still get some sort of recording contract whilst the ones that get through to the final are rarely heard of again. It must make the winner angry when they find out that the fella that went out in week four has a number one single, whilst the single they released got to number 5; it makes you wonder who the real winners are. Well obviously it’s the production company. They make a fortune from the people who phone in every week and then they make a fortune from the record and merchandise sales. day time TV’s just as bad, it’s all about selling your tat and making your house look nice. Except not nice how you would like it, oh no that wouldn’t be fun. Instead they get a couple interior designers to redo the house telling you that the old broken dining chair that they spent £400 on, then another £80 doing that up is going to look fabulous in your brand new art deco kitchen. 400 quid on one chair? And that’s broken! So you need seating for a minimum of 4 people at the table, that’s at least 1600 quid gone straight away. If it were proper reality house doing up, they’d take the 1600 quid to Argos and do up the whole bloomin’ kitchen.

Now I know I'm old, I’ll be saying things like “what happened to tunes you could whistle to?” Right I’m off to watch I’m a celebrity’s opera skating big brother on ice, followed by the latest tragedy on East Coronation Farm.