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Lawks alive and no mistake. That Micky Flanagan, so street he can't even be bovvered with an 'e' in his first name, aint 'arf good. He's the genial, unpretentious to the point of actually defining the word, host of a trip down his own memory lane, from his schooldays when driving a van seemed like a dream too far, to his youth as a porter at Billingsgate Fishmarket, drinking lager and pulling women. He now has a house, a degree, a partner, a son and a £500 buggy - but the accent and attitudes remain gloriously intact...
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