The BBC website recently ran a story headlined 'AirFix made me the man I am'. Now you'll excuse me if I find it a little disappointing that I didn't scroll down to see a picture of Peter Sutcliffe gazing out at me, it's just that model makers have the ability to seriously mess with my head.

It all starts from school I think. There was a guy in my class who was obsessed with trains. He made model trains, collected Hornby and die-cast trains, even pretented to be a train. For the entire break he would chug around the lines of the netball court, or, if Mr Forshaw would allow us on the grass, the football pitch, tooting his horn and lost in his own little world.
As kids are cruel by design, we tortured him. We would stand in his way, welly the football at him and generally be the sort of evil little sods that we now perceive all kids to be. We were sure that there was something medically wrong with this kid. There was, he was autistic.

The model industry is huge, no doubt about it. In 2005 model making firm Warhammer (Slogan, "Fun for teenagers who can't get laid") reported pre tax turnover of £115million, with a net profit of £13.9million. That's an awful lot of sexually frustrated, spotty geeks. Walk into any shopping centre in Britain and you will find Warhammer shops open late so that the terminally dateless can bring their hand assembled, meticulously painted Orks to the table, roll a dice and become 'King of Warhammer (Manchester Arndale Branch)'.

I know of fully grown men who set up train sets in their attics. These are intelligent guys with good jobs, some of them have kids. But woe betide any child who ventures into daddie's world. Everything must be perfect and we couldn't have grubby hands messing up the tracks could we? Honestly, if people like that ran Network Rail I may stand a chance of getting to Leeds in less than 5 hours.

You must understand that I have no problem with people collecting things. I have DALEKs and old Everton football club programmes dotted around the place, and I enjoy them. It's the obsession I can't deal with. I never take my DALEK to a special Time War shop, to battle against time lords and cybermen. I never look at my friends old programmes and say "Pat Nevin on the cover from the 1989 FA Cup semi final against Norwich at Villa Park? I'll give you 200 quid for it"

The fundemental difference between these people and people like me is how much we care about things. Your average model maker probably doesn't have last nights Burger King wrappers all over the table in the lounge. He probably would think twice about taking his brand new jeans to a rock festival where torrential downpours are forecast. He certainly wouldn't waste £50 drinking his own body weight in Jack Daniels every friday night. But he also misses out on the fun things that this reckless attitude provides us with.

Now if you'll excuse me i'm off to make a sandwich. It may not win any prizes, but at least i'll probably get laid tonight.