Click here to change your life...or not.

One of the lovely things about having a hotmail/Yahoo type email account is the goodwill of your fellow men it generates. So many people out there who have my health/wealth or masturbatory interests at heart, and are bursting to tell me about it on an hourly basis.

But as I wade through the 100 or so spams per day that float into my inbox, I can't help but enjoy the particular qualities of the Viagra peddlers, and their ever unique sales pitches - some perhaps betraying the fact that English is not a first langauge to the author.

Of course it's stupid to ever actually reply to a spam, but for your delectation here are some of the wonderful benefits promised to me, and my likely responses if I had sent an email back:

Your wife will become dulled by your stamina and endurance…
- If I wanted a dull girl I could go to any shit bar in Islington, thanks.

Everything in your pants will be strong
- What, even the smell?

Make your tame python work like a clock with Super Viagra
- In English please...

Do you want to tear her vagina with your super-sized dick?
- Er, no thanks.

Your wife will be stroked dumb by your endurance with Super Viagra
- Now, I like the idea of that...a bit of peace and quiet for a change.

It’s not necessary to put up with your tiny cock
- Really? I'd actually grown quite accustomed to it.

We really are doomed this time...

Well, today offers proof if it were ever needed that this country really has gone collectively mad.

Since when did a has-been boy band, of whom no-one has heard a peep for the past decade, suddenly become good enough to "perform" two nights at Wembley Stadium. Yes, for the benefit of any overseas viewers, we're talking about Take That at Wembely STADIUM, not the King's Head Wembley or even the local phone box.

For Christ's sake, what is wrong with everybody? The only member of that group with any talent is not appearing anyway (he's got his own Wembley residence to take care of), one of them was struggling to sell out York Fibbers (a noted indie toilet) until all this madness erupted, and the rest had mercifully disappeared without trace in the intervening years.

Bloody hell, even in their heyday they weren't selling tickets like this. Why now? Well, I'll tell you.

Everybody in this country is slowly coming to terms with the fact that everything now is shitter than it used to be. And in a desperate hope to cling on to happier days all the thirty- and forty-something women in this country have latched on to this dog and pony show with all the appetite of a pack of hounds. It also explains why so many men like me would do the same for a Pink Floyd reunion, but at least Floyd had genuine talent...

This Take That nonsense reminds me of the mad masses who queued for hours just to drop flowers in dedication to that overrated sloane ranger who lucked into royalty then milked it for all it was worth before perishing with her coke-head boyfriend.

I guess it's not surprising really. We have no global idols of any merit left, our politicians are lying bastards, the best we can come up with as a movie sex symbol is Keira bloody Knightley, the latest musical megastars are insipid tripe like James Blunt or unoriginal indie-by-numbers tossers like Coldplay, all promoted to within an inch of their lives by their various media machines and none actually meriting all the fuss.

And as for Posh and Becks.....I just can't go there....

So enjoy your Take That show girls, but I hope that hollow feeling in your stomach when it's all over will not be too hard to bear....