I was reading a book about writing your life story which I'd found in a charity shop. And a chapter about how that life should be formatted was very open-ended. It simply suggested you make it as interesting as you can. Without me realizing it, I created an exciting new genre of book. I call it: 'comedy-porn', you can delve into any page and get a quick five-minute fix, and you're ready for the day ahead. Exactly what all good talk radio shows should strive to do; offering their listeners cheap thrills. This handy companion can ease your commute without the need for headphones.

Having been involved in radio for a quarter of a century, I'd laid the foundations for the plot. My weekly radio show would become a journal to these life stories, told in my own humourous voice. The only thing missing was the laughter from each episode. I had read the psychology to the 'Friends' sitcom episode where they mute the laughter track to Ross, and we're left with a creepy unfunny character. Well, I completed this book through to the end and I was amazed at how much laughter I was able to add back into the final product. Like a juice made from concentrated lemons.

If a tree falls over, say a Monkey Puzzle... the same applies to long-forgotten radio ramblings. My audio memoirs now live on in a new medium, for a new audience, far greater than the small station it was originally broadcast on. I've captured historical events by way of stand-up routines only ever told the once. And I genuinely feel they are worthy of retelling here in this series of journal-style dialogues.

During the lockdown, I had my archived shows transferred via a transcription service into text, only to discover I spoke for over 90% of the time, which is quite an achievement when you consider I had a co-host. In these books, I have atributed certain lines to others simply to break up my own speech. But the vast amount of conversation has been captured as it was said in a different time and place so my ancestors can be assured that this life is a true representation of a cheeky confident young man raising his family in the North East of England. A bit like James Herriot, but without being a vet in the 1940s.

I would like to think those born in the 70s and 80s will get most of the popular references, and for those who weren't, you can always treat it as cultural education. And what better way to learn? Rediscover bizarre news stories, how discussions with no limits would to delightful places before things got woke. These are the forgotten voices of local radio. A timely reminder to the media itself that freedom of speech has simply found a new home, from the airwaves to the printed page.

A great friend, who had been involved with radio for years, said, "You really are the best double act in radio."