We've been living in a multi-channel home for the bst part of a month now, going from four channels to the best part of 16,000 more or less overnight by giving loads of money to that nice Mr Murdoch. Instead of taking thirty seconds to decide there's nothing on the box, it now takes most of the evening, scanning very small print in the Radio Times. And God, there's more.
- The kids will set up little surprises on the personal planner, sending you to some dreadful cardboard cartoon channel just as the film / football match / red hot pr0n action reaches its steamy climax.
- No one can resist the lurid charms of Granada Men and Motors. Theresa May's World of Big Boobs, did not, we were disappointed to find out, feature the MP for Windsor and Maidenhead.
- Channel 238, 10.30pm: All the news you can eat from Nigeria, complete with startled rabbit-in-the-headlights presenters promising you TWENTY-EIGHT MILLION UNITED STATES DOLLARS in the small matter of a confidential business transaction.
- Apart from the BBC's efforts, the so-called interactive content is a cunningly designed ploy to relieve you of your money via premium rate phone numbers. No wonder Mr Murdoch insists your receiver remains connected to a phone line. The grabbing bastard.
- Our taste threshold has dropped noticably. We watch the Sci-Fi channel with no sense of shame. We have yet to wonder if Egypt is populated solely by film crews making documentaries on the pyramids. And don't get me started on the Hitler Porn.
- "There's a film starting on 307." "How many stars has it got?" "One." "Put it on then."
- ITV2 is the worst channel in the world, ever. It makes Men and Motors look good, and even we've got standards.
Nothing beats a Saturday morning watching bid-up.tv and American Informercial channels. Apart from having a life, that is. Sky is God's way of telling you to get out of the house more often.