The real Lenny - and Bandit in the back

It’s Lenny’s birthday on Tuesday. Lenny is actually my son David and he looks nothing like this picture. He does not have nearly as much fur and when I go to visit him he does not jump on me and piss on my legs.

This is good because he is coming to visit me in a few weeks and we are going to Normandy and to the Somme with Merlin (who is actually my Daughter Melissa).

Happy Birthday Lenny.

I have lots to tell you but my iMac arrived on Thursday and I am preoccupied with transferring all my mail and files from my PC to the iMac. At the current rate of progress this task should be completed just before the iMac’s warranty expires in three years.

We also on the weekend had to finish watching the latest series of 24 that we have on DVD. This was appalling – but really no worse that any other one of the earlier 6 series. This is a TV show that jumped the shark in the first series so we have not expected much – and have not been disappointed.

It’s the sort of show that – when you watch the last episode in the series you sigh and say – thank the Lord of the Christmas Beetles that is over – and there will not be another one for a year.

Now – in the last scenes of the last episode Jack is about to die from some bug that he picked up while farting around with terrorists. We should be so lucky.

But – sadly - the last minute arrival of his truly ghastly daughter Kim at his bedside will save the sucker and we can look forward to another excruciating ear, eye and brain gritting performance from Jack and the entire gruesome crew.

But the good news is that series 8 is the last. Hallelujah!

Why do we watch it? Why do people slow down to look at traffic accidents and cluster around injured people in the streets?

And it is addictive. Stupid, ridiculous, laughable, risible, fatuous and impossible – but addictive.