Last week, the best part of ten million people watched the main party leaders debate who should be the next Prime Minister last week, equally dazzled Cameron's big shiny head as they were repulsed by Brown's all-too-accurate impression of Jabba the Hutt.I, on the other hand, sat out in the shed, where I dipped a stick in a pot of paint and watched, enraptured, as it dried.
There could – I thought – be a whole TV channel in this.
When there's nothing better on, switch over to the Paint Drying Channel and watch a variety of different shades and textures drying on walls, floors and – after 9pm – ladies in various states of undress.
On Paint Drying HD we might even go for a touch of creosote sinking into the hungry wooden slats of a fence as part of my ninja training.
And for a subscription, the hard stuff. Gloss. Radiator enamel. Tipp-ex. Highly-paid Premier League footballers paying someone to come round their lavishly-decorated 'crib' and paint the walls, only for their WAG to turn up from a hard day's shopping to complain that it is *just* the wrong shade of duck egg blue.
On second thoughts, I've had a better idea: The Line Premier League Footballers and their WAGS up against a wall and shoot them with a blunderbuss loaded with cattle turds because that would be aces Channel. I'd watch that.
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