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Newsreaders. We share our breakfast, lunch, dinner and supper times with them. We can share every waking moment with them if we do so desire. We hear about the important and trivial stories from around the world through them. They become apart of our lives and we'll forever associate pivotal life/world moments with a reporter. Unaware, these reporters can change my mood like a light switch - one comment that I may deem annoying and they are subject to perhaps an unnecessary outburst of short lived anger; a witty remark and I'll chuckle about it later.

I choose to receive my news mainly through the BBC, they are my preferred choice (ITV's yellow and grey studio is far too distracting, and in spite of my love for Jon Snow and his coordinating sock and tie combination Channel 4's output is just not at a convenient time for me and there's too many satellite news channels to opt for). So I stick with the BBC. Generally, I find their readers and reporters to be likeable, the camera work is, on the whole, excellent and they get the job done to a standard I approve of.  For the most part I am a content viewer my comments are usually 'he's had a hair cut', 'oh, they're back, they must have been on holiday' etc. However, my hatred is reserved for those readers on 'the news where you are' [they will remain nameless but I am a BBC viewer and I live where it's grim... decide amongst yourselves]

These outbursts are typically along the lines of:

'He/She is the definition of a smarmy git'
'I don't think I'd be able to refrain my punching them if I met them'
'Oh ha ha ha, look at you all, all buddy buddy oh what fun - fuck off'
'Yeah think that's funny? Take this! [then I change the channel]'

Don't get me wrong, this is unjust but it doesn't half make me feel better over a cup of tea and I'm pretty sure that I'm not alone in doing this. They can't hear me and I'd be ever so polite (and a little two faced) if I did meet the 'smarmy git' in person. It's only my poor mother and/or cat who get to hear my daily outbursts which I'm sure they don't even notice anymore.

And as much as I delight in having these unjustified sparks of hate (it's a healthy daily dosage), there is the other side of the coin. The newsreaders and reporters who you adore.

Mine is George Alagiah. 

Ah, lovely George. He is for me, what David Attenborough is to wildlife programmes. I fear the day when he may no longer be on my screen, it creates a lot of anxiety. I worry when he hasn't been on for a while and I am relieved at his return. I internally debate whether it really is wise to send him to war torn places. His clever word play on links between one story to another never fails to make me smile. The way he adjusts his tone perfectly for the news story. And always the glint as he makes a humorous remark between the final story and the weather... ah, George...

And now, for the weather...

Weather it's rain or shine (pathetic attempt, I know) I have some issue with nearly every single weather reporter. 

Those who simply deliver the weather as standard I find boring and mentally switch off, only to question as soon as they've finished 'but will this mean I should wear a jumper or risk without it?! Tell me!' 

Yet those who try to make it a bit more fun, I loathe. They cheekily tell us to 'wear a scarf' or 'carry an umbrella this weekend' and I cannot stop the malice inside me bubbling up to the surface for me to spit out 'I can fucking dress myself you cheeky bastard'. It's not they're fault. It's a difficult balance they contend with, and one that I am yet to be satisfied with. 

Quite frankly, it's not so difficult to look outside make a judgment upon the skies and perhaps always carry an umbrella... just in case. It is the great British weather after all!

Your final round up of today's headlines...

My apologies go out to the newsreaders who are at the end of my attacks (that they don't know about), really they do a stella job. It's not something I could ever do; all that smiling and being jolly with your colleagues on screen, changing from light hearted to the sombre, trying to predict mother nature.

I still choose to tune in on a daily basis and my minor spiteful actions of watching a different news show are always disappointing on my behalf and I come crawling back with my tail between my legs to the comfort I know and secretly love. But do beware the day that Alagiah leaves my screen, the cries of woe will be heard nationwide.

Well, that's all we've got time for today. Hope to see you again next time.

Goodbye.