ISN'T it weird how people eventually start to look like their transit vans? And how strange that although more folk are killed by domestic toasters than sharks each year, we'd still rather risk having a two-slice griller than a Great White sitting on our kitchen worktops!

Just a couple of amazing insights from the world of Harry Hill - and what a marvellously warped world it is.

In Harry Hill's TV Burp (Saturday, ITV1), so named, one assumes, because he gobbles up all the week's telly and then belches up the most difficult to digest. The pickled gherkins of the schedules, if you will.

With enthusiastic glee, the gargantuan-collared one regales us with his televisual observations, mainly from the soaps, on things we couldn't hope to have noticed ourselves - like the woman in Holby City who is the spitting image of the fire hydrant on her ward; or the mysterious, disappearing ginger tom in Coronation Street's title sequences; or how EastEnders was completely obsessed with tea last week.

Hill manages to reduce even the most earnest of shows to the utter nonsense we all know they really are, and it's very funny.

Why this great little series has been consigned to the 5.30pm Saturday graveyard slot is a puzzle.

Mind you, watching An Audience With Harry Hill a few weeks ago, you could see mile wide partings in the barnets of "celebs" such as the Hamiltons, as Harry's jokes flew over their heads like stealth bombers. But take my advice, before settling down to watch (or eat your) Saturday Night Take Away, pop into Harry's mad, mad world first for a satisfying little appetiser.

A question Harry may well ask in his show next week is: 'How on earth did Trevor Eve (AKA: Eddie "dodgy 'tash" Shoestring, triv fans), star of two-part crime drama Lawless (Mon/Tues ITV1) get his manky old river sodden clothes so clean from just one rinse under a rusty old outside tap?

Why bother with biological washing powders when you can turn what looks like a swamp monster fancy dress outfit into a dapper bad-cop-about-town ensemble with two drips of cold water and quick rinse-out by hand?

Another thing that should bother Harry (it did me) was: why did D I John Paxton (Eve) run away from the scene of a crime, where his boss and best mate's neck had been on the receiving end of an unfriendly cheese-wire, when he was completely innocent?

I suppose the answer is that we wouldn't have had any drama then. But why not just make the plot devices plausible?

You had a bunch of decent actors with an impressive repertoire of accents (one moment a little bit Oirish, another a wee bit why aye pet, the next a tad mid-Atlantic), a great setting in the shape of the now hip and happening Tyneside, a Sopranos-style protracted killing and even a decent budget.

Yet the entire thing was marred by a series of unconvincing turns of events that brought on that annoying "as if you'd do that" and "why the hell doesn't he just..." syndrome.

Oh and, why did the actors blatantly have the seatbelts tucked behind their backs instead of over their shoulders in all the

interior car shots?

And did you notice how the pattern in carpet in Paxton's iffy B&B digs looked a bit like his wife's face?

Harry, over to you...