David Copp (46) brought his family on a break to Devon and had a horrid time.
He was shocked -- shocked! I tells ya -- when he was confronted by the appalling vista of 12 crates of dead fish which, he says, were really smelly and left his two children ,aged seven and nine, "quite distressed".
Now, it should be pointed this happened at Ilfracombe Harbour, a working fishing village and the crates were there to be taken out to sea to be used as bait by the local trawlers.
But that's not good enough for our thin-skinned hero and his overly sensitive children, no sirree Bob.
In fact, after the local trawlermen basically told him to feck off and pointed out that when you're in a fishing harbour there is a very good chance that you might bump into fish, he contacted the local newspaper to complain and said: "It's not the sort of thing you want to see on holiday, there was a real stench. These people should be a bit more considerate of holidaymakers."
Yeah, those nasty fishermen and their . . . fish.
Although I do have some sympathy for the man.
After all, I once went down to a dairy farm in the country and there I was shocked to see some cows.
I couldn't sleep for days because of the trauma.
Okay -- sign me up
Like a lot of blokes in their 30s, I used to play a lot of sport as a kid and just assumed that I would stay naturally fit forever.
It's a common trait to most of my mates, actually, but however common it is, there's still no excuse for slothfulness, no matter how enjoyable it can be.
So, as I begin to reach the age where I should be expecting my first midlife crisis -- I would buy a flash, penis-replacement car but I don't drive; I could get an earring, but I wore one for 10 years; and I certainly won't grow a ponytail because I hate hippies.
Frankly, I'm already beginning to fret over what my midlife crisis act of madness is going to be -- I have decided that right, that's it -- time for old Iano to start re-living the glories of his youth and get back into shape.
Well, I tried tennis and realised I had forgotten what little I ever knew about the game and broke my racket in a fit of quite irrational pique. I went for a game of football and had to go in goal for the second half because I just couldn't run any further. But now I have a new idea -- competitive pole dancing.
Yup, the new craze sweeping Europe is competitive pole dancing for blokes who say that it is an aerobic and cardiovascular workout.
So, I'm going to slather myself up with oil, put on a skimpy thong and get cracking, writhing around that greasy pole to a Beyoncé song.
I'd put a picture in the column but I don't want to be responsible for collapsing the Indo sales figures.
No, I'll just leave you with that image in your head instead . . .
Tastes like. . . cockroach?
How adventurous are you when it comes to food?
Personally, I thought I was a particularly daring connoisseur of unusual edibles until I went to Africa and was offered some of the vilest, most disgusting things imaginable (Matabele ants, anyone?).
It always comes as a blow to one's self-esteem when you realise that rather than being the fearless gastronaut like those chefs on telly who delight in eating weird stuff, you are really just a scaredy cat when it comes to your grub.
So I won't be paying much interest to the latest EU project.
They are trying to get more people to eat insects because they don't emit greenhouse gasses like those nasty, methane-farting cows.
Now, I've said this before but the whole global-warming industry has really lost the plot and become just another cult, but the idea of eating a maggot to save a polar bear is just daft.
However, the organiser of the project says: "We already have seen the introduction of eggplant, sushi, things people never ate here before. I think it will start with ground-up insects in sauces and burgers. Grinding them up will make them look more palatable."
I can see it now if this craze takes off -- waiter, there are no flies in my soup! What the Hell is going on?
Hello? Irony anyone?
If ever a TV show has jumped the shark incredibly quickly,, then it is surely Glee.
The first season of the show was an absolute delight -- funny, clever and with lots of heart.
Since then, however, has become some sprawling behemoth; a massively franchised product that seems to be more about spin-offs and money-making side-projects than the plucky little show it started out as.
But it has undeniably made stars out the young cast, including Heather Morris, who plays Brittany, the ditzy cheerleader with the penchant for putting her foot in it.
Morris recently did a photoshoot in America with a hip photographer where she posed in make-up that made her look like she had a black eye.
People immediately accused the photographer of promoting and glamorising domestic violence and he has had to issue and apology and a retraction.
And the reason? Well, as he puts it: "A lot of people have been sending me death threats because they are angry that I am promoting violence, which was never the case."
Yes, we will not tolerate intolerance! And we'll kill anyone who says otherwise.
And proper order, too
The French are an odd bunch, it has to be said.
And they just got even odder with the news that they have fined a man called 'Jean-Louise' €8,000 -- because he wouldn't sleep with his wife.
She both sued and divorced him, saying she was sick of living in a sexless marriage, while he said he just didn't fancy her any more.
It's a common problem of course and many women feel increasingly frustrated.
On an entirely unrelated note, any women out there who feel like that, my email is firstname.lastname@example.org.
Just putting it out there . . .