Have I Got News for You? No, actually.

Is it just me or is the news just not, well, news at the moment?

Last week, we had some particularly curious headlines like “PM Used to Enjoy Wine with Dinner” and then “Man Shared Twin Bedroom with Colleague” and today I turned on the lunch time news to discover that a story about Rooney allegedly, reportedly, supposedly etc, sleeping with a(nother) prostitute was number two in the running order.

Did it put me off my lunch? Yes. Did it surprise me? No. Shame these footballers aren’t as energetic with their tackles as they are with their tackle, really.

If you go along with the “Man Bites Dog” theory then “Footballer Doesn’t Cheat on Attractive but Stupid Wife” is much more of a story than” Footballer Pays Granny for Sex”. I am beginning to think they need their big fat wage packets just to keep their libido at bay.

More worrying than all this though, is some peoples' reaction to all this terrible news. And I don’t mean terrible as in tragic – I mean terrible as in utterly rubbish.

I had the pleasure of spending some seven hours in my car on the day that Blair’s book came out and I was completely gripped by the total complete fools calling into 5 Live. One lady actually, genuinely, I kid you not - said that Blair had no idea what stress really was as he had never tried to bring a family up on a strict budget.

Now, I’m not saying that dragging a pair of screaming kids round Iceland on a wet Tuesday is a barrel of laughs (look what it did to Kerry Katona) but it has got to beat deciding who to wage war on next.

Quite frankly, if I was Blair I would have had gin fed to me by intravenous drip.

Another caller said she was shocked that Blair found evenings “long” when he had four children to look after. Apparently, it didn’t even cross her mind that he was perhaps referring to long, late night political engagements - as opposed to hours spent paring the kids’ socks.

And as for the story about Hague – I just don’t get it at all. I too have shared hotel bedrooms over the years with a variety of people – my husband, my best friend, my colleague, my sister and my mum. I can categorically state that I am not adulterous, incestuous or homosexual. I just refuse to spend more than I absolutely have to lying awake in an overheated room, listening to a footballer paying for sex in the room next door.

I like silly season when it means that I get my PR stories picked up more easily - and I like silly season when stories about dogs that can bark Ava Maria get prime time coverage but when we obsess over the ridiculous (Hague) and the revolting (Rooney), I am not so keen. So, some words I never thought I would utter – come back politicians. We miss you.