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Give this fella a wide berth

There’s plenty to fear: rioting chavs, earthquakes, tsunamis, holocausts, a hoodie with a penchant for Nike trainers, military dictatorships, a David Cameron speech, nuclear weaponry, terrorists, box jellyfish, Nick Clegg’s thought process, Boris Johnson’s hairdresser, serial killers, risotto recipes, Piers Morgan claiming not to know anything about phone hacking, anyone claiming to be from the English Defence League, that ticking timebomb moment when you realise the chicken kebab was undercooked, rabid dogs, Croydon, young people called Jason, belly button fluff, deadly snakes, a particularly solid stool that requires a head-shake to get it out, people at dinner parties who like Woody Allen, instruction manuals for digital televisions, a neighbour called John Terry if you have a particularly attractive girlfriend, a neighbour called Tiger Woods if you have a particularly attractive girlfriend, T-Shirts that show your nipples, volcanic dust clouds, pubs that tell you they’re absolutely not doing food at 2.01pm, a par 5 with a dogleg and two inviting bunkers ahead of the green, left-over Chinese food, undercooked chicken, paisley shirts, Ian Paisley, the dreaded ‘insert’ button, IT helpdesks, beetroot, late-night drunken texts to members of the opposite sex, poorly serviced aircraft, Jeremy Kyle, Loose Women, Eighties revivals, speed cameras, trifle, any Zero 7 album and that infernal Here Come the Girls song.

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