I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know...that writing a column called ‘Man About Town’ should mean just that.

And normally it does.

But in recent weeks, come Saturday and Sunday nights, I’ve been sidetracked.

Instead of being out, grabbing life by the throat and burning the candle at both ends, I’ve willingly become a couch potato. And whose fault is that? Just the 200,000 hopefuls who auditioned for this year’s talent orgy known as X-Factor.

I should have known better of course, but I’ve been feeling a little low recently, and anyway, it’s not like I went looking for it.

No, surfing my Freeview’s 30 or so channels a few weeks back, it just exploded into my living room and stupidly and without thinking, I did nothing.

I just sat there, lame, staring, letting time pass, and before I knew it, I REALLY wanted to know what would happen to Stacey Solomon (the single mum from Dagenham, who’s adorable and made the final 12).

I don’t blame myself of course because the seeds for this fall from grace were sown well back in the Spring when ‘SuBo’ – as she’s now known – auditioned for that other talent extravaganza, Britain’s Got Talent.

Susan Boyle – my God she owes me BIG TIME.

I had a smart, sophisticated social calendar until a friend of mine told me to check out her performance on YouTube. Which I did and...well, look at me now.

No word of a lie and no exaggeration either, but I’m hooked (actually, make that addicted). I not only watch X-Factor on Saturday, but tune in obsessively for the results Sunday night, as well as switching channels straight after both shows to get an extra fix with The Xtra Factor on ITV2.

And then come Monday morning, here in work, I tap on to The X-Factor online to read all the viewer comments from the night before.

Yup, that’s how bad it’s got, but the rush is unbelievable. Plus, I’ve stopped apologising for it too.

You can knock it, pan it, slate it and slam it ‘till you’re blue in the face, but truth is, it’s brilliant TV.

However, here in work, it’s difficult to find anyone who shares my enthusiasm (if I worked on The Oxford Times, I bet it’d be different – after all, older people need something to root for; it gives their lives meaning...).

But the craving doesn’t end there – last night I saw an advertisement for the return of ‘I’m A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here’ with Ant and Dec, and I tell you, I didn’t even fight it as my eyes glided oh-so-innocently towards my work diary and some of the appointments it might clash with.

I don’t want your help. Just your support (and maybe an idea of who you think should win. Me? I can’t decide between Danyl and Jamie...). And look on the bright side – at least it’s not ‘Strictly’....