I regretted it instantly. Sure enough when I got home from work she was waiting at the door, armed with her metaphorical rolling pin, demanding I explain myself.

"Look,'' I said, "we live together, you wash my dirty socks, I let you watch the soaps even when there's footie on the telly – we're already friends. Why are you inviting me to be your friend on some website for halfwits?''

She had no answer and resorted to one of those "I'm 15 years younger than you, you just don't get it, do you old fella.''

I admit I don't get Facebook nor any of the other so-called social networking sites that have sprung up on the internet.

Fans of Facebook claim it's a great way to keep up with new friends and get back in touch with old ones.

MSF showed me one rambling message from some bloke with whom she used to live next door to and go to junior school.

I'm not saying he's weird but after I'd read his message I turned to MSF and, with the panic rising in my voice, said: "You haven't told him where you live have you?"

I reckon there's normally a pretty good reason why we lose contact with friends.

It usually happens shortly after that moment when the person you had previously thought of as a pal turns into a potential axe murderer, and who is insistent they want to borrow your favourite pair of trousers. With or without you in them.

Having re-read the message from her new old friend even MSF agreed I had a point.

The Facebook episode was a rare triumph for me in our household, but she didn't have long to wait before re-establishing her superiority.

I admit DIY is not my strong point but I surprised even myself when what I imagined would be the relatively simple task of bleeding a radiator turned into a full-scale domestic disaster.

How was I to know you're supposed to stop when the water starts gushing out!

Warwick's scraping the bottom of the...

That's it. I've had it with celebrity/reality TV. The final straw was BBC3's Celebrity Scissorhands. I know it's for charity and Peterborough's very own Warwick Davis is there doing his bit but this really is the pits. Cutting edge TV it ain't.

Warwick was, ahem, faced with having to carry out a bum wax on some bloke called John. Like the trooper he is, Warwick turned the other cheek and got on with it.