As some of you may know Mark Gatiss has been living with me in my flat for some time now, and I have to say I'm getting a bit sick of it.
He's there when I get back from work, he's on the sofa hogging the TV while I'm trying to eat my dinner and playing Cilla Black records while I'm trying to have a shit. Not to mention leaving piles of scripts for new TV projects everywhere.
HANG ON, what am I talking about? I DON'T LIVE WITH MARK GATISS! It just feels like I do. It's just that the willowy ginger mediocrity is on my TV all the time and over-exposed in the media generally.
What a relief. So who's been wearing my socks?