I bought The Last Broadcast by Doves today, which in my opinion, cannot be listened to on anything below loud, because it sounds a lot more ethereal and moody that way. Plus the plinky plonky bits sounds really good at full decibel. But my dad has come over to keep an eye on me, and he keeps turning it down. He's also insisting that I turn the heating off, go out for some fresh air and put a jumper on. I appreciate his efforts, but I'm quite happy being moody, with my music on full pelt and my chest exposed. I'm just not used to parental guidance any more. Sometimes I can appreciate it, but not today. Today I don't feel like talking, or eating anything sensible. I want to hunch over the computer screen until my eyes seal up, and then I'll go and lie under my duvet with my MP3 player.

Something similar is happening in Neighbours at the moment, everybody is up in arms because rather than dressing in black and flopping about the house, weeping for his dead family, Harold prefers to bake muffins for Paul Robinson and hand out soup to the homless. Come on people, give him a break! It's not like he's out dabbling with drugs or shoplifitng. He's not even tipping bins over and graffiting your lovely cul-de-sac. And he always wears such nice, sensible jumpers. I have a sneaking suspicion that they want to see the return of Evil Harold, and that's not going to happen while he's hanging out with the Salvos. I'd also like to see the return of Alcoholic Karl, which was one of soap's best bad portrayals of addiction, topped only by Hollyoaks, who are unbeatable at tackling 'serious issues' with all the subtlety of a bulldozer. Karl would have one too many lemon squashes at Lou's Place and get a taxi home at half past the eleven! I wanted to see him putting peanuts down his trousers and throwing up in Max's front garden like a proper drunk.