I might as well face it...

I don't think I have an addictive personality.

I drink too much Diet Coke, but I think that's more a case of laziness than addiction - it saves on washing up. Diet Coke contains aspartame, which some people think is addictive and harmful. But I don't really care. Some people don't drink aspartame and go sky-diving. I drink aspartame and don't go sky-diving. It's a balancing process.

I'm not being defensive about it. Or jumpy. Jumpy because of all the Diet Coke - yeah, that's right, not jumpy. Nope. I'm not addicted. I can stop any time I want. You betcha.

If I realise I am addicted, I can just make another balancing change in my lifestyle, like start looking before I cross the road, or stop doing heroin.

Really, laziness is my best friend. It stops me doing all kinds of harmful things. I could never be a gambling addict or a serial killer or a politician. It's just too hard.

(I think if I was an adrenaline junkie I'd just buy adrenaline on the street and inject myself. It saves all the activity. I could inject it directly into my eyeball, the insanity of which would give the whole thing an extra kick.)

Of all the seven deadly sins, sloth is my favourite. The good thing about sloth is it stops you doing all the other sins. When you're lazing about in bed, everything is good.

Greed and gluttony are still there, but I can't be bothered to get up or go out to get stuff.

I don't envy anyone when I'm in bed, because being in bed is the best state of affairs. That's not to say I feel pride, just contentment.

My laid-back attitude precludes any kind of wrath.

The only real competitor to sloth is lust. But luckily, lustful activities can also take place in bed. I think I could be motivated to do stuff because of lust (get up, turn my computer on, place an order, collect my parcel from the post office, take it home, unwrap it, plug it in, wipe it down etc). But I'd need a good lie-down afterwards.

If I was Kevin Spacey, Se7en would be an entirely different film. But just as graphic.

But really we're all addicts. We're all addicted to oxygen. And with oxygen, if you kick the habit, you kick the bucket.

I kicked a bucket once. Nothing seemed to happen. I thought I saw the head of death peeping round the corner, then withdrawing, disappointed. But that might be because I'd just injected myself with a lethal cocktail of aspartame, adrenaline, heroin, oxygen and Kevin Spacey. Right into the eyeball.