EVERYTHING about children's television these days makes me gnash my teeth in indescribable fury. Not only are the presenters primped-up clones with about as much charisma as a sugar mouse, the programmes themselves seem to have gone down the pan due to a sad and patronising attempt to sound hip.

While idly switching through the channels the other day, enjoying fine cognac and biscuits in my esteemed colleague David Gibbs' exclusive townhouse, I was appalled to see a programme called - wait for it - 'Dick and Dom in Da Bungalow'.

I almost dropped my digestive in disgust. Da! What in the name of Beelzebub's brassiere is da! No wonder half our children leave school not knowing how to read when they have to come home to television resorting to illiteracy in an utterly pointless and transparent attempt to be cool.

The only people who can use 'da' with any degree of conviction are gangster rappers who deal drugs and shoot people then get rich with songs about dealing drugs and shooting people. What fine role models for today's youngsters.

And it gets worse. They talk like that all da time. If I hear the phrase 'bling bling' from just one more of these posing bags of banality the only bling bling they will hear is the sound of my trusty shovel beating them vigorously about the head.

I am sure the last thing we need on television, children's or otherwise, is more idiots talking 'street' in a cynical attempt to grab ratings. If they were that cool they wouldn't live in a bungalow.