Does anyone really imagine for a moment that my wife gives two stuffs about global warming? She certainly did not appear to be all that bothered on Thursday evening when, during the great carbon-saving switch-off, I ran round the house furiously turning on every light, hair dryer, dishwasher and toaster.

She can take a year to read something, whereas I like a book that becomes more important in my life that life itself. When I was in the middle of 'Red Storm Rising' by Tom Clancy - which was not selected for the Man Booker shortlist - you could have taken my liver out and fed it to the dog. And I wouldn't have noticed.

Usually, a Range Rover would be beaten away from the lights by a diesel powered wheelbarrow.

A turbo: exhaust gasses go into the turbocharger and spin it, witchcraft happens and you go faster.

Asking the front wheels of a car to do their normal job of steering while handling more than 170 is like asking a man to wire a plug while juggling. Penguins. While making love. To a beautiful woman while on fire, on stage. In front of the Queen. It's all going to go wrong.

There are shantytowns in South Africa that are built better than Renaults!

If you go through the pearly gates backwards in a fireball, that's a cool way to die!