The Parish Counsel

I know it 's pouring with rain and supposed to be glorious Spring and all that, but haven't you two got anything better to do than natter on about Cabin In The Woods, Simon Amstell, the Bahrain Grand Prix, Dentgate and your interminable pretend iPod? It seems not.

I can see you. Sitting around in your clothes. Talking, literally talking, about late night 5Live, Derek and Gervais, Four Rooms, Julie Burchill and the monarchy. I wouldn't be surprised if you weren't picking pop records for that infernal pretend iPod too. I can see you.

Nom, nom ... Crunchie ... nom ... Galaxy ... nom ... nom ... Samantha Brick ... Flake ... nom ... nom ... Undateables ... Buttons ... nom ... Daily Mail ... nom ... Dairy Milk ... pretend iPod ... choccy bunnies ... nom ... feel a bit sick now ... nom ... hidden extras

Hello chaps, what are you doing? Talking about Sarah Milican, The Naked Rambler, The Slits and Leonard Cohen, you say? I'll leave you to it.

You'd think these two would be sick of this nonsense by now, wouldn't you? But no, no - on they go with TV reviews this and Pete Waterman that. Richard Bacon, The Apprentice - on and on and on. They'll be naming tracks for that infernal pretend iPod next. What? They already have? Typical!

Obviously, all good things must come to an end and the blessed relief of those two goons having a week off is shattered as they return to bend ears with talk of Egypt, horse racing, football improvements, Masterchef and popular music recordings suitable for made up MP3 players. Thanks, fellas.

Oh yes. That's right. Shopping to be done. Garden to be dug. Hamster to be fed. And these guys don't lift a finger. They're too 'busy' giving it gob on Make Bradford British, Proud and Prejudiced, Murdoch, The Sun On Sunday and picking beat music to put on a machine that doesn't even exist. Just leave everything to me, fellas.

And, as winter turns to Spring, a couple of old buffers refuse to leave the house, instead they natter on about The Brits, ticket rip-offs, firework jeopardy, absorbing culture, famous godparents and songs for pretend iPods. Get some exercise!

Here they come. Walking down the street. Well, not exactly walking, more sitting. In fact, only sitting. And there's no street involved. But there are two geezers. And they are talking about Big Fat Gypsy Weddings, Ten o Clock Live, junk telly, Whitney hyperbole and putting tracks on an iPod that isn't there. They do look a bit like monkeys too.

Ah sweet relief! Granted those two grizzled old blokes are there waxing on about Junior Doctors, horror on the railways, Twitter, Sky and their virtual iPod device - BUT at least they are punctuated by a lovely, talented lady about halfway through. It won't last.