As our language has evolved, all manner of words have been corralled for use as low-grade insults.

Muppet, gherkin, plum, spud, doughnut...

I'm so pleased that the final one is on the list, because it has such a beautiful synergy with a story that took shape this week.

As people who'd obviously run out of interesting and worthwhile things to do got excited about the opening of a doughnut shop in Norwich, some took it to the next level.

They queued from midnight to be the first customers to buy doughnuts from Krispy Kreme (which should be banned from our shores until it changes its name to Crispy Cream).

Yes, they also got a gold loyalty card that'll get them freebies every month. But what on earth were they thinking?

Through-the-night queuing is what one does for Wimbledon tickets. It's also what used to happen for FA Cup semi-final or Led Zeppelin comeback tickets, before the queue was replaced by being put on hold for hours on the phone or dealing with ticket website crashes.

You don't queue through the night to get some blasted doughnuts. What you do is sleep through the night. And if you feel the need to eat a doughnut in the morning, you walk to the shop and buy one.

I guess this says something about Britain's dietary habits: you wouldn't see people throwing an all-nighter to be the first to get a tub of sushi or a nice low-fat salad.

But perhaps it says more about the all-pervading presence of American culture.

Numerous wonderful independent local shops open, but face a demoralising daily fight to survive. The only through-the-night going on is the owners working tirelessly to achieve success.

Krispy Kreme, on the other hand, serves up doughnuts that are the same wherever you go - but thrives thanks to mass publicity and people's desire to buy into the hype.

It will do well, naturally. But I do wish we wouldn't be so easily sucked in. Doughnuts, aren't we?