I have often said that I have absolutely no interest in the fact that one sweaty person can run a bit faster than another sweaty person, or that one very wet person can splash down a swimming pool faster than another very wet person, and I have to wonder just how many people in this country feel the same ?

Well, if the BBC is anything to go by I must be the only one, because just about every minute, on every BBC TV channel, including the 24 hours news channel is devoted to the bloody Olympics !

If you enjoy sport, that’s fine with me. There are plenty of sports channels to watch, but this gross waste of our licence fees by our public service broadcaster is ridiculous to say the least.

I don’t give a shit about who ‘medalled’ (what a stupid word) today, who’s blubbing on the podium, or even who is bonking who in the competitors’ village. Mind you, I might just take a look at the women’s beach volleyball … Well ? …

I’ve just returned from visiting my local Sainsbury’s supermarket which, over the years, has often featured in this blog, so please excuse me if I repeat myself, as with the exception of Christmas, this is the time of the year which most ‘drives me up the wall’ !

Yes ! .. It’s the schools’ summer break, which means weeks of completely out of control ‘little darlings’ running up and down the aisles screaming their sweet little heads off.

It also means that because of an influx of summer visitors (I live by the sea) the supermarket ‘zombies‘ increase in number, clogging up the aisles as they aimlessly wander about.

I don’t know if the heat is to blame or if it is just holiday stress, but I did notice one or two strangers to the store getting somewhat frustrated because the baked beans weren’t where they thought they would be, and one scary tattooed lady was publicly ‘tearing her husband a new arsehole’ because he had led her down the wrong aisle in search of the salad dressing.

The checkouts were busy and the call kept on going out for the ‘queue busters’ who were probably hiding in the cold store, and I was unfortunate enough to be behind a lady whose husband was in hospital in a fairly uncomfortable state after undergoing surgery. I know all the details, but I won’t repeat them here as they would take too long to relate. In fact, it would take as long as it took this silly … poor woman to very slowly, with one hand, place each item one at a time, on the checkout conveyer, pausing only to describe some distressing detail of her husband’s ordeal into the bloody smartphone …