The Hate Mail's Ideal Home Show

I feel dirty enough as it is accepting the Associated dollar but free tickets to the Ideal Home Show? That's just plain filth.

Still, TOH and I braved the Sunday District line and headed to Earl's Court.

Our reward was to witness a double-decker pikey-fest. It full of Northern salesmen trying to flog furniture and garden equipment that simply wouldn't sell in a shop, all the while sounding like Jerry 'The Saint' Sinclair. It was rather like Jim Bowen giving away Bullie's special prize - a caravan for the confused looking darts players who don't even own a car.

One guy tried to sell us a £4,000 electrical bed, which vibrated like a high-performance motorbike, while another got bored with us immediately and said 'if you want to buy this bed, come and find me' and flounced off with an impressive twirl.

As it happens, we are in the market for a new bed. It's me back, you see.

Upstairs (two floors of fun!) was an Essex girl's dream day out. Spray on tan, madam? Nope. Acrylic fingernails? Erm, fuck off. Free gift, madam, if you sign up for a credit card - you don't have to activate it. Gah!

We spent a few amusing minutes watching a French bloke demonstrating a £400 blender, mainly because he kept giving away free food tasters.

A hideous place.

Although I do now covet a waterbed.