When I was in TESCO and said to Rachael “Hell is here” she thought I had gone all Buffy The Vampire Slayer. She asked whether I’d found a hellmouth right below the store.

The mouth of hell is not like a cave mouth. It’s like the mouth of a ravenous beast.

If you want to feel Hell’s molars closing around your ears, just go to TESCO the day before a bank holiday, or B&Q on the first day of sunshine, or most towns on a Saturday night.

Anywhere you can get a tuna panini, don’t be surprised if you can smell Satan’s breath. When you order a tomato and mozarella panini, don’t be surprised if they microwave it and serve you with something that looks like a panini but is in fact made of steamed bread containing a superheated tomato sliver. Look around you. The blank faces barely conceal the empty misery of the poor bovine creatures grazing here. This is a warning. You do not heed it. The scalding pain and the absence of nourishing flavour is a glimpse into the searing, numbing misery of the fiery pit.

Tiny gym swimming pools less than 25m long at peak times. I did the rough sums once and each person in our local gym pool had 5 square metres. It would only have taken a few more people to make a passable impression of Dante’s third ditch.

Traffic when everybody wants to be before the people they are after. I think car rear view mirrors should be as large as windscreens, with a small rectangular hole cut out through which to look forwards. That way people would see all the people they were already in front of and feel much better about themselves.

Hell can smell a bank holiday and you can hear the sound of its great lungs inhaling the fumes on any route to the coast. This is one of Hell’s best opportunities to recruit.