I recently wondered if I’d ever have the confidence of a mediocre white bloke and decide to start a podcast.

So I listened to my long and detailed voice notes to my mates.

Every single one littered with eeerrrmmmm, hhhhmmmm, pffffffffft, weeeelllllll, verbal British buffoonery.

It’s disheartening and impressively ironic to discover that I sound just like a female hybrid of David Brent and Boris Johnson.

Two mediocre white men who managed to leverage themselves to the dizzying height of failed pop star and criminally inexplicable position of PM.

So rest easy, friends. The podcast nobody asked for, and no civilised person should have to endure, is not happening.