Well… last night saw a first for me. I couldn’t make it to the end of some trash TV. Even though I’ve sat through more turgid programmes than Wife Swap (last night, Channel 4 at 9pm), something inside me broke down. I just couldn’t hack it anymore. After watching Gillian McKeith shout at fatties, after watching endless spats on Big Brother, even after watching Touch The Truck (one of Five’s flagship programmes which saw contestants touching a stationary truck to see who could last the longest) I just couldn’t sit and watch some more loons acting abhorrently on my box…

Wife Swap began as it usually does. Looking at the respective couples before the tootle off to someone else’s house (which they inevitably dislike). Last night, the show featured Debbie Doody (no, honestly, that’s her real name) who was a combination of Mo’ from Eastenders, the Kray twins mum and Krang from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Barking out rasping pink cloven orders to her ear bashed husband (in one tender scene you heard "Watch the dog shit!" hurled out of a window) she managed to break me down immediately. She told us how she "finks ver world of my boys…" and then continued to say ‘my boys’ to the point where I was within seconds of blowing my ears up.

Debbie Doody swapped places with Angie Townsend, the owner of a hair salon. You can see where this is going can’t you? Angie was a hard(ish) business type, demented and devoted (read overbearing)  Debbie has to put up with a slovenly husband, who sits at the computer for up to nine hours every day. Angie however has a Christian hubby who doesn’t mind her bringing the bacon home, whilst he mans the fort. So, with Doody in tears before the first commercial break, whimpering about "my boys" and how the family should have a "muvvaa" in the "haarse", and Townsend being told "the chips could have been done a bit better", it was plain to see where it was all going to end up.

Doody telling Mr Townsend what a big wet squib he was.  Mrs Townsend telling Mr Doody to pull his finger out of his idle rump. Rows. Tears. Door slam. Tears. Slight reprieve. Meet back with partner. Tears. Discussion. More rowing and finger pointing. Cut to after shot of women saying "I’m so glad to be back home, but I’ve learned a lot". All that end section is what I guessed happened. Like I said… something inside me died last night and a ran away from the TV after the first break. I can’t handle it anymore. I need Attenbrough’s Planet Earth back on the screen now. I can’t wait until November.[Mof Gimmers]