Once upon a time, people kept their business to themselves. Yes, you might have seen the odd row in the street, but people behaved with a bit of decorum, didn’t they?

Before I go on, I must point out that I’m up for a good time as much as the next person. I’m no killjoy.

I mean, the other night, I treated myself to five teaspoons of Nesquik powder in my bedtime drinkie instead of the usual four. Oh yeah, I know how to live.

Well, not wishing to sound like an old curmudgeon, but I think we can safely say that as far as Islington goes, decorum has been completely flung out of the window this week.

First up is the eye-opening case of the toilets at Selbys, the department store on the Holloway Road. More commonly known for its collections of linen and spoons and make-up and stuff, the shop has apparently now become a favourite for gay men seeking a bit of hello sailor.

The fruity goings-on aren’t taking place on the shop floor, but rather in the toilets.

Yes, following in the great tradition of George Michael, known for his love of high jinks in public conveniences, gay men have been seen, in the excellent words of the Gazette, “getting it on in the toilets”.

This all seems a bit rum to me considering that Selbys has a bed department that would surely be a more comfortable spot for the naughty pixies.

Anyway, having sex in a department store loo is so the opposite of glamorous.

Boys, you deserve better – do it in your nice warm house, or at least a ritzier shop. Remind me to take my own commode next time I go to Selbys!

On a totally horrible note, one mucky pup quite literally soiled the good reputation of N1 this week by defecating in a lift at Hoxton Station. Yuck central!

Again, call me old-fashioned, but I’d have thought that squeezing out a number two was something you’d at least want to do in a loo, if not a loo in your own home.

I suggest that if the police catch the stinky sourpuss, they rub his nose in his own filth. Well, it works for doggies…