Sidetracked by Noel

After a post school trainer buying nightmare, in the chav-tastic hellhole that is Sports Direct, I though I'd go into a nice mini blip trance and take some cloud shots.

And that's when it happened.

With his immaculate man grooming and his heavily highlighted hair he walked past me in a cloud of heady aftershave.

I can't stand the man, yet I get some strange pleasure out of not being able to stand him. He is such a prize berk.

I think it's thanks to Bob Mortimer's rather genius satirisation of him that gives me some strange affection for the concept of Noel Edmonds.

Still think he's a berk though.

Didn't dare ask to take a full frontal shot of him looking all orange and freshly blow-dried - you don't need permission to take rear shots, do you?