As Boris Johnson heads towards No 10 with his stuff in a bin-liner, I simply can’t bear to watch the news

I can imagine Boris and Carrie living mostly off kippers and Deliveroo, and the carpet gradually turning into one big pizza crust

I haven’t watched the news for ages now. I can’t bear it: I’ve been blinkering myself against the inevitable for weeks – the day Boris Johnson moves into No 10.

Instead I’ve watched every available episode of Project Runway, an American reality show starring rookie fashion-designer contestants competing against each other in a series of glorious cat-walk challenges.

This feast was swiftly followed by a massive binge on a series called Blown Away, a Canadian TV show featuring competitive glass blowing. That’s right, glass blowing – possibly the maddest and riskiest of all the creative arts. Pottery – ha! – wheels are for pansies compared to the red-hot furnaces and molten blow-pipes of glass blowing. Seriously, this is nail-biting stuff, with dreams shattering into a million shards in the final minutes. Love Island might think it’s hot, but it’s not: boiling liquid glass being moulded into incredible solid objects is hot.