Calzaghe, my car and one very cold Giraffe-a-licious.

Well darn my socks and call me Graham! The British public got it right for once. Joe Calzaghe victorious as BBC Sports Personality of the Year. Great a Lewis Hamilton fan as I am, it was a spot on decision for him to come second to Calzaghe. What's next I ask you? A deserving winner for Strictly Come Dancing in a couple of weeks? Perish the thought. I tell you, if that Eastenders kid wins I'm going to have some serious words to say on the subject.

Good grief it was cold today. All three (yes, three, count them) of our bird baths in the back garden were frozen over. Not that the birds were bothered. They were all in hiding, save one hardy blackbird. They made the right decision in staying out of sight today and not just because of the cold. Having got my car out of the garage this morning I noticed a delightful bit of bird graffiti. Sadly they don't have access to multi-coloured spray paints and so use what is readily available to them. I did contemplate giving the Tate Modern a call purporting to be an artist with a groundbreaking piece of work for them, but ultimately I decided that I didn't want to part with my beloved Skoda. I went at the bonnet with a sponge, scrubbing brush and ready supply of hot water. Honestly, someone should be selling this stuff as glue. I was an exhausted shell of a Giraffe-a-licous by the time I'd finished. We're a bird loving family in this house, but if I ever catch the varmint that made its own personal mark on my little Fabia I can't be held responsible for my actions.

Shall we dance? Cha-cha-cha.

I feel an urgent need to do something highbrow and cultured. I must purge myself of the tackiness I indulged in last night. What's more worrying is that it was the second Saturday in a row in which I partook of this particular brand of low brand entertainment.

I speak of the hours between 5:50pm and 9:30pm yesterday when I wallowed in a TV diet of Strictly Come Dancing and The X-Factor. What has happened to me? I have wandered into the realms of middle-aged women and teenage girls respectively. I ate my dinner in front of the box in order to watch John Barnes tango.

However, I shall not be coerced by Brucie or Dermott into picking up the phone and spending 25p on a pointless call. Never have I voted in these programmes and never shall I. Eurovision aside of course! This was the case even before all the phone-in scandals started to rear their ugly heads. I'm getting more than a little fed up with constantly hearing about fakery in the world of broadcasting.

Firstly, I accept that it is appalling that people are casting votes and entering competitions but not being included in the final result. Secondly, the BBC were indeed way out of line in manipulating footage of the Queen in order to create a buzz and an exciting trailer.

Despite these incidents, I am still fed up with the seemingly never-ending array of revelations concerning programmes such as Born Survivor and The F Word. Both Bear Grylls and Gordon Ramsey have come under attack for a lack of realism in their shows. Is it only me that has no problem with these so called cons? These are entertainment programmes! As long as the changes made aren't of the sort to hurt someone's reputation or character, then what's the fuss about?

It is just another symptom of political correctness and you really don't want to get me started on the whole, "Baa baa rainbow sheep," debacle.