It must be a nightmare living next door to James Bond.

Face it - you'd have that huge Aston Martin clogging up the driveway, a never-ending stream of Martini supply trucks dropping stuff off and the occasional coroner popping round to have a peek at dead ladies covered in gold paint. Not to mention the fact that he'd be looking all suave and ladykiller-like all the time, constantly showing off beautiful girlfriends like Eva Mendes while - in stark contrast - you have to settle for some slapper you met in Wetherspoons who looks a bit like the Cadbury's Mini Eggs parrot.

Luckily, of course, Bond is simply a fictional character. You'd never have such trouble if you lived next to, say, actor Sean Connery, would you? Of course not - he'd be like a benevolent old uncle, constantly popping round from the flat upstairs to give you tins of shortbread and perform entertaining highland jigs when there's nothing on television.

You'd think that, wouldn't you? Wouldn't you? Hell yes you would - and you'd quite literally be the wrongest person in the whole wide world for doing so.