I may, may have berated television commissioners from time to time for the never ending stream of ‘100 Best …’ programmes but in response to popular demand I have decided to give you ‘The 100 worst nights of my life’.  Series One.

There could be voting with a premium rate number for you to ring repeatedly to ensure the victory of your choice.  Untold riches lie in wait.  I might even be able to afford therapy at last.

An old chum, owed many favours, asked me to lend her moral support while she made a presentation to some group or other.  First mistake was not paying more, any, attention to the details. Oh, novice error.  It turned out to be an evening listening to a hard sell that would have made a Scientologist blush by some self-help group which in return for several hundred pounds promised a life of perfect happiness.

How many times did my mother warn me to note the location of the fire exits in case of a need for a rapid getaway?  Novice mistake number two. I eventually found myself in a small room with three young people and two ‘counsellors’ whose fixed grins and glassy eyes would have made them shoo-ins for leading roles in ‘Captain Scarlett and the Mysterons’.  They may even have had strings.

We were required to fill in a short questionnaire: What works in your life?  I’m there filling in the boxes.  ‘Me, almost non-stop’. What doesn’t work? My idle sons.  Top of the class, me.  Please miss, can I be milk monitor?

There was group sharing of our issues. A youngster in my group couldn’t decide whether to move house or not.  Doh! There are only the two options – you do or you don’t.  Toss a coin. That’ll be fifty quid.

A young woman complaimed that although she was following a rigorous diet and exercise programme, she wasn’t making any progress towards her fitness goals.  ‘Are you a professional athlete?’ I enquired in a tone she mistook for caring.  ‘No’ she replied ‘I’m a receptionist’.  Possibly not going to hold you back in your giddy career path then?

Next problem. ‘I am forty, married to a man with a low paid job and I want to give up work and have a baby’. Do you think this course could help me to achieve that?’ How exactly? By waving a magic wand?  The correct answer is that you can’t have the happy housewife fantasy, like most people.  Don’t hand over that cheque to the Mysterons, I’ll take cash.

This ninnyist inability to face and deal with reality is what comes of all this political correctness.  You can’t have it all and no course in the world is going to come up with an answer to that, however much it costs.

We have somehow created a nation of people who can’t blow their own noses.  No wonder they don’t vote – that would involve making a decision.  And I’m sure you’ll join me in sending them free of charge the six short words that will really change their lives.

Grow up and get a life.