Mam's parents were Gran and Pops, Dad's mam was Granny. Don't remember my Dad's dad, think he might have been dead by the time I was born. No idea where the names Pops came from. I'm grandad to most of my grandkids, Poopy or Ploppy to another. We've got a fun insult thing going.

My colleagues at work moved a defib behind me when I returned to work after my heart attack. Which was nice of them. Hasn't stopped me using the "ooh, sore chest" when I'm not getting my way of course.

This is straight out of the autocrat playbook yet shamefully, most of the public seems either resigned, relaxed or even actively gleeful about seeing their civil liberties chucked down the toilet. As though they'll never need them.

And at midnight tonight, we won't be able to say any of this again.