Nobody is going to make you have an affair if you don't want to. Not a website, a friend, an advert, these are all excuses; cheating is a mindset, a choice by you alone. I'm not talking about a drunken mistake or a one-night stand: the surges of people signing up were married people looking for something they consciously want to do.
I slink over to the kitchen and scour the worktops for a tipple. I settle on a big bottle of Plymouth gin and glug as much as decency will allow into the nearest clean glass, before peeking around the kitchen, like a meerkat, on the search for tonic. I soon see a bottle, which is attached to the hand of God, or his nearest approximation on Earth.
The furore over Lance Armstrong's confession to Oprah, and by extension the world, that he used performance enhancing drugs and blood doping to help him win his seven Tour de France titles, says more about the mass ignorance that surrounds the issue than it does about the integrity of Lance Armstrong.