By my made-up reckoning, 80% of TV now is some sort of competitive living, writes Colm O’Regan

Spring is finally here. I don’t mean the small amount of hot weather last Friday and

The scientists discovered it by accident: An enzyme that eats plastic. Imagine discovering something that incredible by accident? I’ve never discovered anything by accident. At least not by myself.

A significant capital investment is required. I cannot ignore the crumbling — and indeed bobbling — infrastructure for much longer. I’m going to have to buy some clothes.

Set a baby down and within seconds she’ll be brandishing a previously unseen medieval mace in one hand and a gin-trap in the other, writes Colm O’Regan.

We’re watching The Crown at the moment. I’m miles behind, way back in series one, so don’t tell me what happens in the end.

I’ve googled it and I don’t think it exists yet. There are a few fictional series based on it, but not what I’m planning. I’ve threatened to make my millions a few times in this column, but this could be the one where I finally get enough money together for a shed, writes Colm O’Regan. 

REGULAR readers know this column is frequently about nothing at all, writes Colm O’Regan.

It’s a shameless heart-string tugger at times. I don’t care. When the craggy loveable oldish guy started crying while saying goodbye to the five mentors in episode 1, I was snotting like a toddler, writes Colm O’Regan. 

My dating days are long behind me so I don’t get many opportunities to be stood up. Except in one area: Selling second-hand stuff online, writes Colm O’Regan