Well. What a week THAT was, are we right avid reader? There's been things going down; the Titanic, Heather Trott, Tulisa Contro-Contos-Whatever, things coming up; the price of pasties, petrol and penises in front of Tulisa (we've reached the quota of Tulisa blowjob jokes, worry not).

we're very surprised that any has any eye fluid left after seeing such awful things going on in the World, and that's not even taking into Tim Lovejoy and Simon Rimmer moving channel and effectively upsetting all the hungover teens in the country.

All the terrible things that have happened this week don't mean an iota because y?know what happens soon? It's only Easter time isn't it! The time of year that we come together as a united force to perform the rites that make the zombie carpenter?s son stay dead for another year. We?ll all be so full of chocolate and other various sugar riddled carcinogens that we won't care about anything other than what is playing out before your very eyes: not the scenes of your elderly grandmother silently squeaking out farts before demurely wafting her handkerchief to dispel the noxious fumes, or your young niece vomiting loudly after eating a little too much chocolate, but what is on the telly box.

Hidden away at the back of everyone's consciousness is the worry that they?ll miss out on something important. It's a normal part of the human condition we're told and shouldn?t feel too bad about getting onto buses that we don't need just because there are two people having an animated conversation about something and we want to be a part of it, even if it's just vicariously.

This is the same thing as what happens on Twitter most nights. People attempt to one up each other by tweeting the funniest thing that they can think of during a show. Sometimes it goes horribly wrong with comments that are verging on racism but would be alright during Allo Allo, whereas sometimes it can bring a programme to life.

Watching Eastenders, for example, can be a tedious task that only a hardened professional should attempt, but seeing people tweeting about McKlunkys or commenting on Shirley Carter?s ever receding skirt hem can really bring a new facet to a normally boring show.

People ruin everything. Not you per se, but probably at some point you've ruined something for someone else. Perhaps unintentionally, or perhaps with a glint in your eye that would make Janine Butcher move house, change her name and start working in a technical pattiserie store.

Just to get away from you. Possibly.

Obviously some things that get ruined for other people are good. Like the NHS reforms that are making Twitter a mega bore lately. The glans with a wig on, David Cameron seems happy to ruin the NHS for everyone, so what do the angered masses of Twitter do? Get sand right up their vaginas and get the reforms stopped once and for all. Effectively ruining things for Cameron, and he was looking forward to making everyone hate him more than Margaret Thatcher could.

How great is TV? It encompasses many different things for many different people. It can be the only friend to an elderly person, or the sole teacher for parents who can't be bothered with children.?But more often than not, TV is generally what normal people like us at the hecklerspray bedsit and you use to while away the hours until you need to return to work.

It's a grim old life isn't it, but for those few hours a week, where characters prance around for our entertainment, every problem seems less important, and can be dealt with tomorrow.?It's one of the reasons that Glee was so popular; the dancing and brightly arranged songs were a happy alternative to credit card bills and that Patricia in Human Resources.

Sometimes TV fails us, just look at Something For The Week, although people may say they like it, if it was popular it would still be commissioned and not destined to TV limbo. It traversed the popular hangover slot that June Sarpong ruled with her filthy laugh and iron grip, introduced the more successful elements of Jamie Oliver?s career and folded it over to keep the air in. Like a meringue. And sometimes TV can be better than what that girl did behind the loos at Download Festival. There's countless light hearted police procedural shows that should be held in the annals of history as ?great?, and a list of comedies that are so ?loltastic? that they?ll probably be timeless. You can see yourself watching Friends in twenty years time. We all can. Although it?d be between shifts stacking shelves at Tesco for ?2.56 an hour, it'll still be fantastic.

What an exciting week, eh? Have you had a good one? We?d like to say that we have, but that would be a massive lie. A lie as massive as saying that exercise and an healthy diet is the best way to lose weight. Or that Michelle McManus was the best person to win that series of Pop Idol. She clearly was, but only because everyone else was so bad that it made her look fantastic. Like the relationship between World and Kerry Katona.

The biggest lie that we've found out this week is that apparently controllers for the five terrestrial channels feel like they don't need to bother putting on enticing and great programming on and are settled to the fact that whatever they do decide to commission is, in fact, distinctly mediocre and hopes to fill in the gaping hours from one working day to the next with watered down scandal and froth where it could be filled with something that people would be excited to see and talk about the next day.

It's laziness that can't be countered because for every one program that is cancelled, there's hundreds of people clamouring for it to return; just like the ?furore? over the BBC canceling Something For The Weekend. It's clearly one of the worst things on the TV but people still want to show their support for it, even though Tim Lovejoy would take your letters of support, wipe his bum with them and then smile knowing that he can do this without recrimination. He's just ?that good.?

Right you horrible lot, shall we get this started? Because by the sounds of the naysayers on TV and radio and in the papers, eventually we?ll all be out of a job and by that point, no one will have a TV anymore and we?ll all by using someone else?s children as currency.

Not in a sexual sense obviously, it's for the hair. Imagine how you could live in luxury knowing that somewhere in your barren estate is a Scrooge McDuck vault full of children?s hair. You?d lord it over all those people selling wheelbarrows for a loaf of bread.

Sounds like a terrible state of affairs doesn't it? Unemployable people are milling around not wanting jobs that the government is trying to make them take, while people who do want a job are being made to work unpaid in places like Tesco and Topshop because that's what's good for the nation. Dressing like someone shot you out of a cannon, through a Toto Coelo video and dropped you behind a counter looking sullen is good for the country. So they say. But what would we know? We all voted for Will Young to win Pop Idol when Gareth Gates was clearly the better prospect. He couldn't talk people! That ranks higher than Will Young?s giant tongue. That's basic speech impediment hierarchy 101.