JAY-Z's ACTUAL LIST OF 99 PROBLEMS

1. Getting soufflé to rise.

2. Finding a reliable plumber.

3. Getting the smell of oranges off his hands after eating Jaffa Cakes.

4. Transitioning to internet banking.

5. When to use 'affect' and 'effect'.

6. Long division.

7. Not understanding 3D printing.

8. Global warming.

9. Gluten intolerance.

10. Parallel parking.

11. Poaching eggs.

12. Remembering that Sydney isn't the capital of Australia.

13. The plight of the British red squirrel.

14. Not being able to play Pokemon Go without being mobbed by paparazzi.

15. The plot of 'Star Trek Beyond'.

16. Exma.

17. How to spell ‘Eczema’.

18. The rising cost of stamps.

19. Seeded grapes.

20. Bedroom tax.

21. The pedestrianisation of Birmingham city centre.

22. Trying not to snack between meals.

23. Not being able to find the end of the Sellotape.

24. Finding half sizes for shoes.

25. Understanding the economic implications of Brexit.

26. Hiccups.

27. Cryptic crosswords.

28. Whether to make the switch from DVD to Blu-ray.

29. Unexpected items in the bagging area.

30. The point of the new 'Ghostbusters' movie.

31. Hayfever.

32. Pins and needles.

33. Ordering a cocktail without an embarrassingly silly sexual nickname.

34. Underripe avocados.

35. Overripe avocados.

36. His obsession with perfectly ripe avocados.

37. Feeling sleepy after lunch.

38. When to use the Oxford comma.

39. Daddy longlegs.

40. Knowing that his current lifestyle isn’t compatible with dog ownership.

41. Shin splints.

42. Rail replacement bus services.

43. The meaning of life.

44. Not enjoying eating yoghurt as much as the women in the adverts.

45. The hole in the ozone layer.

46. Not being able to trust contactless card payments.

47. Fixed versus variable rate mortgages.

48. Why four-finger KitKats taste slightly different to the two-fingered variety.

49. The Milton Keynes grid system.

50. Recurring nightmare about a bucket of pens.

51. Wasps.

52. The western world’s over-reliance on fossil fuels.

53. Crumbs in the bed.

54. Only remembering the names of 4 of Henry VIII's wives.

55. Forgetting to put the bins out.

56. What to do when the wi-fi goes down.

57. Needing the loo in the middle of the night.

58. The declining bee population.

59. Two day hangovers.

60. Wondering if Tom Hiddleston and Taylor Swift’s relationship is real or not.

61. Why the BBC cancelled 'The Musketeers'.

62. Stress-induced twitchy eye.

63. Not enjoying 'Game of Thrones' as much as everyone else.

64. Calls from unknown numbers.

65. Burnt toast.

66. Being endorsed for skills he doesn't have by people he doesn't know on LinkedIn.

67. Still wanting to call Emojis emoticons.

68. Foot cramp.

69. People making immature jokes about the number 69.

70. Accidentally ‘replying all’.

71. How much water to cook rice with.

72. Mosquitoes at dusk.

73. Kanye West.

74. Finding a Natwest card reader.

75. People who respond ‘maybe’ to Facebook event invites.

76. The middle three Star Wars films.

77. Tickly coughs.

78. The increasing gap between rich and poor

79. Clammy hands.

80. People putting milk back in the fridge when there's only a tiny bit left.

81. Not knowing what his local council does and doesn’t recycle.

82. Whether it makes fiscal sense to buy an annual travelcard.

83. Opening the dishwasher before it's done.

84. Insufficient legroom on the bus.

85. Sunday traffic.

86. Feeling quite indifferent to Marmite.

87. Going for dinner and drinking water yet Beyonce` having four Daiquiris.

88. How to pronounce ‘scone’.

89. Worrying that he doesn’t suit hats.

90. The Edinburgh tram debacle.

91. The lyrics to 'Ummagumma' by Pink Floyd.

92. Ambiguous toilet door signs in restaurants.

93. Understanding the politics of the Middle East.

94. Going to the toilet on airplanes.

95. Mobile phones.

96. Washing his trousers with a tissue in the pocket

97. Meaning to buy tuna in spring water but accidentally buying it in brine.

98. Donald Trump.

99. Realising, once he started writing them all down in list form, just how many problems he actually has.

Still, at least a b***h ain't one of 'em, eh Jezzie ??

Da, Da, Da, Da, Daaa, I'M NOT LOVIN' IT !!

So, Euro 2016 has been and gone, and along with the departing heroes of Portugal have gone the swathes of advertisements for a certain fast food chain that seemed to adorn the advertising screens of just about every single football stadium in France.

Why on earth this actually HAS anything to do with football other than plugging tinkly piano versions of old songs by The Jam (I really didn't think Paul Weller needed the money … and why is it EVERY single song in adverts theses days is a tinkly piano-led version of a classic 80's or 90's anthem with wispy female vocals ??) is beyond me.

This got me thinking about my relationship with the fabled 'golden arches''. I last had a McDonald hamburger about 15 months ago and thought it was quite probably the second most revolting thing that had ever been in my mouth … (stop snickering, yes, you there at the back !!).

And whilst we're on the subject, does anyone else here think that all of the salads or healthier options that you see in their football ads are completely ridiculous? I mean this chain is for burgers etc, and yes there are some unintelligent Americans who have sued for becoming obese on account of eating there 300 times a day but really, the overwhelming majority of people would actually realise that they aren't at all healthy and (if they must) will just go occasionally.

It's also not exactly intelligent marketing - no one will ever think of going there for a low calorie option, that's a bit like watching a WWE wrestling match purely for the homo-erotic sub-text. And anyway, we've got Five Guys now … ironically there's now a Five Guys in Five Ways, but anyway.

Nevertheless, I think their establishments are actually pretty great, because they provide a bug-zapper-esque light for all the local chavs and riff-raff, and so keep them and their equally ghastly children out of the few remaining decent restaurants, tea-rooms, pubs, and coffee houses. One of my favourite eating houses is the Hopwood Hotel in Alvechurch. It's a tranquil oasis of civilised behaviour. Where one is actually served at the table by well-spoken, suitably obsequious waitresses. There's a cute little Lindsay Lohan look-alike who I'm pretty sure doesn't wear any knic... sorry, I digress.

Anyway, around about this time last year, disaster struck; the place was suddenly invaded by unwashed, burberry-swathed, loud-mouthed hordes of Sun-reading family horrors wearing made in China tracksuits with white stripes down zippered trouser seams, waving lottery tickets like they were TUC strike banners like the scene in the new Star Trek movie where the USS Enterprise is torn to shreds and sent screaming to a fiery death on the planet below by a swarm of insectoid-like aliens.

Had an exploded WWII bomb recently been discovered on the local council house estate? I wondered. Had a rare PokemonGo creature been lurking in the ladies? Was it someone attempting to initiate the world's most low-rent flash mob? Had they all just come out of seeing the new Ghostbusters movie? No, it was worse, far worse: the local high street Maccy D's had closed down.

Has anyone experienced the true horror of having a McDonalds close down on them? For a small town like Alvechurch it's a disaster, like having a main sewer collapse. The streets and gutters immediately back up and are overflowing with chav-crement in no time. Floods in Bangladesh or Mozambique are nothing in comparison.

Relief and RAF helicopters borrowed from Russia pour in in such cases, but a little town like Alvechurch losing its McDonalds is ignored by the world community and in no time disease, famine, and terror are stalking the streets as ruthless, power-crazed burger barons move in to fill the vacuum.

So why, I heard no-one ask, did the local McDonalds emporium close?

As is the case with most football teams these days, the great unwashed in their infinite wisdom blamed the manager. Apparently he was knobbled by the new smoking laws and had abolish the smoking area. Seeing as most of his customers are trained from the age of about two to get through at least 40 ciggies a day, particularly girls who discover that they're cheaper than slimming pills and contraceptives, this left him up diarrhoea creek without so much of a sheet of Andrex to his name.

The result of this thoughtless action being the ultimate loss of his cor` blimey business, which struggled on for a few weeks and finally collapsed in such a swift a way that it would have left even BHS's chairman wincing. However, this time there is some good news to end on. The state of emergency finally ended with the opening of a new McDonalds outlet in a shopping precinct. I presume it has a smoking area because, thankfully, the streets have seemingly been swept clear of the social dregs and comparative normality has been restored.

Call me a foodie or a gastronomic snob if you much, but for me, there has never been much romance attatched to the Big M. I know that they've refitted many of their eateries theses days so it now looks less like a northern childcare centre and more like someone from Apple has been let loose with an angle grinder to try and get rid of every single corner and edge known to man, but even then nostalgia is some thing I simply cannot equate with McDonalds …

Yes, I am more partial to a Beefeater or a Hungry Horse or one of those kind of establishments because what you ingest is actually vaguely edible and you don't get bombarded by the cast of Benefits Street, but ironically the people I can't stand are the ones who pre-emptively dismiss them in favour of Ronald the Clown's Burger Emporium, largely because its fans can be a bit weird, or because they regard upmarket eateries as 'hipster bait', whatever the hell that means.

And as much as I've been bashing them over the course of this blog post, it's worth remembering how fortunate we that McDonald's are not licenced … at least that is until the customers get out into the car park and start mixing White Ace into their iced frappachinos …

And of course, I'm certainly NOT dismissing those who are employed there. As much as I complain about my own employment, I freely admit I would be too much of a coward to change it for a McJob, for those who ply their trade at least get regular shifts and the living wage … and for dealing with the kind of clientele they have to put up with, especially on a Friday or Saturday night, I believe they are truly the unsung heroes of our generation …

So as it's been such a beautiful week, it's back to the peace and quiet of the Hopwood with some of the shine in my smile applied to my shoes to see if my theory about the little Lohan-alike waitress is correct …

I for one, hope it is.

MR SPOCK, EU HAVE THE CONN

Space. The Final Frontier ... or in this case, the space in my schedule tomorrow I will have in order to get to the polling booth in order to cast my Referendum vote, which is actually more than I thought I would get, given I work for a market research company. Given the option to travel at warp speed, I'm sure that the turnout tomorrow would probably leave a Klingon looking over his starboard bow wondering what the kab'leth was going on.

So, what on Earth do you think this has to do with the EU Referendum tomorrow ?? Well, for a start it's happening, and thank goodness it is, most of us want it to be out of the way, most of us can't wait to get to the polling booth, and of course most of us can't wait the get to the pub to have an EU drinking contest.

So, then, you want my opinion ?? You want to know what I'm doing tomorrow. I'm voting to leave. Yep, I'm voting for Brexit, and once again I'm going to invoke the world of Star Trek in my reasoning as to why I'm doing so.

What the EU should only ever have been, what it should have aspired to be nothing more than, and what I'm sure we thought it was going to be when we signed up in the late 70's, was something like the United Federation of Planets, a benign, pace-keeping organisation comprising a collaborative group of interplanetary governments, dedicated to providing a forum for it's leaders, underpinned by a fundamental prime directive of non-interference in the affairs of each of it's members, as well as ensuring that those who wish to join have demonstrated they can have the ability to do so by being able to achieve warp drive on their own.

A simple, pan-continental trade association where we can pick and choose the best bits of each, with a few in house rules to stop people playing silly buggers - what we've ended up with instead is the Borg Collective.

A ruthless, aggressive, faceless, sterile, remorseless malevolent force hell-bent on assimilating everything in it's path into a single, hive-minded collective with no regard for the individual. No one is control. It is an organic thing always and only seeking more power for itself. A faceless entity without visible leadership. In popular culture, like the Cybermen from Doctor Who, they are a symbol for any overwhelming power, the enemies of individuality, robbers of all autonomy.

If you've ever watched "Star Trek: First Contact" (and I strongly recommend you do, it's the best of the Next Generation films by a star system) (and which was conspicuously shown on Channel 5 on Saturday), here's the Borg mantra;

"We are the Borg. Lower your shields and surrender your ships. We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Your culture will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile."

All of us have a Borg in our own psyche – the parents we want to test our burgeoning adulthood against, the fashion police we are constantly on the alert for. When we are strong in our identity, we enjoy resisting the Borg, it helps us forge an authentic self with a stake in the future. When we are vulnerable, we back away, isolate ourselves from the sites of contestation, stay familiar with the past.

Yet it’s striking that the European referendum debate has thrown up fear of the Borg on both sides of the political spectrum. On the right, fear of a bureaucracy that shapes the rules and customs of our country without giving us a chance to have our say. On the left, fear of the neoliberal hegemony that shapes our economy and disempowers the 99%. The sense that both of these are uncontrollable is common to both, until recently, when the European 'project' of enlargement and political, social, and economic integration was seen – not just by Europeans but by global observers - as a ‘soft power’ for all those involved.

A bit like in the Star Trek universe when the human race nearly wipes itself out and then discovers that they are not alone in the universe. And in principle it's a wonderful idea that underpinned Gene Roddenberry's optimistic vision of the future. I mean, what could be wrong with the post war nations working together towards a common enterprise (look, look, see what I did ?? See what I did there ??), attracting those on their fringes to join in and play a part.

Europe after WWII had a distinct role and character on the global scene – it was ambitious, sophisticated, a beacon of post-conflict resolution, pretty much in the same way the Federation was when it was founded in the series finale of the Star Trek prequel series, "Enterprise".

However, in the real world, the task of pulling people towards an ever closer union has fallen to politicians, economists and bureaucrats – that is, power elites. Instead of enhancing and amplifying Europe’s soft power – the attraction of its multi-cultural project – we have been subject to an amplification of its 'hard' power: its ability to control outcomes, for good and for bad. In this scenario, closer European integration continues to be the Borg that everyone fears – even as they are spinning it for or against.

Unlike the Borg, however, the EU is not flexible enough to adapt to changing circumstances. It's also horrendously inefficient and doesn't put the needs of the collective before the needs of the few. All in all, I think that in a comparison with a race of alien zombies the EU actually comes second.

And that's why we need to resist being assimilated.

The way Spain, Portugal and Greece has been treated demonstrates exactly the kind of 'hard' power the EU likes to wield. This was not the actions of a benign collective group of governments, but the malevolent actions of mean-spirited wannabe dictatorship determined to force it's will onto a sovereign nation who only wanted to improve. I for one cannot remember an episode of Star Trek where the Federation infringed the sovereignty and dignity of one of its members, dictating fiscal policy to it and not compromising one bit whilst forcing them into a humanitarian crisis. Well, actually, it did, in the episode "Mirror, Mirror", but that was set in a parallel universe.

And looking back on most episodes of Star Trek, it's clear that Captain Kirk was too much of a cowboy to have any truck with the EU. He was constantly telling bureaucrats to f*** off. The Federation in Star Trek is about maximising personal liberty; the EU favours the exact opposite. And I for one cannot conscienceoulsy vote to remain part of something that only wishes to ride roughshod over what has been built up through blood, sweat and toil over hundreds of years.

The United Kingdom of Great Britian and Northern Ireland.

Our Federation.

And that's why I'm voting to leave the EU, preferably at Warp Factor 9.

Live long, and prosper.