I hate the attitude of roving camera crews. Working in Soho, you see quite a lot of them, either filming some fascinating vox pop or street scene or (much more likely) standing around interrupting pedestrian flow (ouch, you should see a doctor for that) and looking smug.

But what do they have to be smug about, exactly? They’re the poor schmucks who are stuck out in the cold for hours at a time, either doing nothing (also most likely) or bashing cables, fetching coffee or holding pack ordinary people who just want to go about their business. It’s the latter job that makes them amongst the most punchable fux0rs on the planet. They puff out their chests and imply “hey, look, I work in TELEVISION which makes me a BIG STAR and you’re just an anonymous drone. Did you hear that? I’m in TELEVISION. And you’re not.”

Far be it for me to point out that these people are the scum of their profession, schlepping around in the cold on micro-budget shoots for zero-interest cable channels about finance or DIY. If they’re earning any money at all, and they’re probably not, it’ll almost certainly be below minimum wage. But that’s alright – soon they’ll be big execs with offices and secretaries and their very own cocaine! Except, understandably, the people in these jobs already protect them to the death, and these tossmonkeys will just drift around on the periphery of meeja whoredom with their Nathan Barley dreams for another couple of years before becoming estate agents, telesalesmen or accountancy trainees.