That's an hour of my life I'll never get back. The Richard Hammond Five O'Clock Show.

"I am Richard Hammond. It's Thursday 5 January." So far, so what?

The man-boy is a crossbreed of Nicky Campbell and that bloke from Rogue Trader.

"We're supposed to be miserable in the New Year but we're not!" he said, adding that he wanted to prove the whole nation was happy before moving on to a slot about crippling debt.

Oh joy.

It was packed with piffle. There was a feature on the top three holding songs' on automated phonecalls.

Eh? What next? Watching paint dry? (The top three were Greensleeves, Vivaldi's Four Seasons and Enya's Orinoco Flow).

Still, all three tunes on a loop in a broken down lift is less suicidal-inducing than this show.

It's kept going with emails and feedback from viewers who are clearly on horse tranquillisers.

Carrying on the nation is happy' theme, one said: "I'm happy because my guinea pig is pregnant."

Another said he was happy because his infected toe nail came off.

A woman said the show cheered her up after having teeth pulled at the dentist, but can be forgiven because she really would have been on drugs.

"This show is better than having teeth pulled!" Richard joked.

Oh, how I laughed.

"We're all perfectly happy here!"

It's desperate.