Yes, yes, I know all the jokes. What else could I have expected at Highbury? But I went to Chelsea and to Tottenham and to Rangers, and saw the same thing: that the natural state of a football fan is bitter disappointment, no matter what the score.

He has the personality of a child prodigy, but no discernable talent.

I don't believe in Heaven or anything. But I want to be the kind of person that qualifies for entry anyway.

For alarmingly large chunks of an average day, I am a moron.

Look at all the things that can go wrong for men. There’s the nothing-happening-at-all problem, the too-much-happening-too-soon problem, the dismal-droop-after-a-promising-beginning problem; there’s the size-doesn’t-matter-except-in-my-case problem, the failing-to-deliver-the-goods problem…and what do women have to worry about? A handful of cellulite? Join the club. A spot of I-wonder-how-I-rank? Ditto.

He's at the chocolate teapot end of the competency scale.

There are many differences between a baby and an I-Pod. And one of the biggest is, no ones going to mug you for your baby.