Dear Adam Boulton,

I heard today about the death of Baroness Thatcher and I’d just like to offer my condolences. I understand that you’re a particularly loyal supporter of the Conservative party and her sad passing must be quite a blow for you.

In other news, it’s recently been brought to my attention that you have a very distinctive interviewing style when it comes to politicians. I found myself watching some YouTube clips of your finest performances, including the hung parliament one with Alastair Campbell where you definitely do not undermine your own argument in any way by behaving like a spoilt child, and then the one with Gordon Brown at the Labour Party Conference where you certainly couldn’t be accused of bitching at the then Prime Minister until he got so fed up he walked off before the camera had finished rolling, and then I couldn’t get enough of your professional and balanced approach so I had to watch the George Galloway Bradford West victory one where I’d be utterly wrong to suggest that you got a proper dressing down for being a terrible interviewer.

So really, Adam, what I’m writing for (other than to pass on my sympathies for you at this difficult time, of course, poor old Maggie yadda yadda) is to ask you whether you might send me some tips on professionalism. My appraisal’s coming up in a couple of weeks you see and I’m sure your input could help me progress in my career. You’re quite the role model – if Adam Boulton can do it anyone can!

Failing that a signed photo would be lovely, and I definitely wouldn’t draw a moustache and devil horns on it I promise.

Yours sincerely,

Lucy Knight

My family have taken it upon themselves to use the happenstance of our shared name in buying me Lucy Knight branded products for Christmas, in an attempt at comedy. It’s brilliant for you – it’s guaranteed income – but not for me. Do you know what it’s like being bought a gym ball for Christmas? Or an aerobics DVD? Or last Christmas’s unbeatable ‘Walking for Weight Loss’ book? It’s shit, is what it is.

I’ve tried explaining to my family that I’d laugh about it a lot more if they simply took a photo of the Lucy Knight item and sent me it. ‘Oh look! Another Lucy Knight fitness aid!’ I’d say. And we’d chuckle and probably say ‘lol’ and that would be quite nice. Instead I have to feign gratitude that someone’s spent their time and money on something I will never use (no offense) instead of the cake stand or driving gloves I’ve had on my Amazon wishlist for FIVE YEARS.

In light of the fact that my family doesn’t seem to get the message that a coincidence is funny for only a limited period of time, I think it would be  prudent for you to send me a signed photograph. That way, when someone thinks they’re giving me the breaking news that – shock horror – there is someone on Google with the same name as me and you can BUY STUFF WITH THEIR NAME ON, I can whip it out and say ‘No shit Sherlock’ and put an end to it once and for all.

Yours sincerely,

Lucy Knight

Dear Jennifer Lawrence,

I didn’t watch the Oscars so don’t worry, I didn’t see you fall over, although from what I read on the internet about it, you handled it very well and mostly people have been talking about how pretty your dress was and how you deserved your award, which is nice.

I thought I’d write and let you know that we all fall over now and again, some of us more than others. Here is a not-exhaustive list of times I have fallen over:

1. Learning to ride my bike without stablisers, 1986
2. Rollerskating in Skegness, 1988
3. Hurdles on Sports Day, 1994
4. Queuing in Leeds station after giving blood, 2003
5. My Jaegermeister-fuelled 30th birthday celebrations, 2010
6. Last November in Berlin thanks to a combination of slippy steps, new shoes and Hendricks gin.

So you see Jennifer, you’re in good company.

Please send me a signed photo because I have fallen over way more times than you and have never worn Dior at the same time. Thank you.

Yours sincerely,

Lucy Knight

Dear Scarlett Johansson,

I saw an interview with you in Elle magazine while I was at the hairdressers the other day, and you had such lovely hair that I immediately regretted my hair colour choice* and have had to book a consultation to sort out how I can get hair like yours.

It reminds me of when I was an impressionable young teenager, c. 1996, and everyone had their hair done in a ‘Rachel’ thanks to the success of Friends. My ‘Rachel’ looked suspiciously like a mullet on me. It definitely displayed mullet tendencies, that’s for sure.

So now, 16 years later, I’m going to be asking for a ‘Scarlett Dip Dye’. I hope you don’t mind. I’ll make sure not to frequent the same places as you so people won’t know I copied.

In the meantime, if you could send me a signed photo so I can take it to my consultation, that would be great.

Yours sincerely,

Lucy Knight

*I also ultimately regretted not specifically asking for Joanne who I usually have, on account of the person I got instead got hair dye on my face and water down my back and because of hairdresser etiquette I still had to tip her.

Dear Lance Armstrong,

I’d like to offer you my support at this difficult time. It really takes some balls to confess to cheating. Well, at least, to finally stop lying about it and suing everyone and being a prick. So well done!

I know lots of people have suggested the whole Oprah interview was a PR stunt, but to them I say ‘bollocks!’ Anyone can see it was a genuine, heartfelt apology. And I honestly don’t think you disrespected the colour yellow. So what if you like the colour purple too, yellow will just have to get over it! Well done on helping turn Oprah into even more of a bajillionaire than she already is. You’re clearly a charitable soul. It’s not like there’s anything in it for you financially, is there? I mean, sure, you might be able to sell a few books off the back of it, but you didn’t actually get any money off Oprah. All these people banging on about you doing it for your own gain are nuts.

So, Lance Armstrong. In these difficult, cynical times, I hope you take some comfort in knowing that not every single person in the entire universe hates you. If you could send me a signed photo that would probably help though.

Yours sincerely,

Lucy Knight

Dear Robert Patrick,

Last night I had a rude dream about you. I say that, but actually it wasn’t just about you, there were some cats (I dream about cats quite a lot), and some bits where I was running to catch a bus, and then for some of it I was a kung fu master, but then the end bit was definitely rude and about you. It was so engrossing that my alarm went off and I had to snooze it twice to see how it ended.

What I can’t work out is why you were in it though. I am currently only on season 2 of my annual complete X-Files watchathon, a full 6 seasons away from your first appearance, so that can’t be it. And I haven’t watched Terminator 2 since I stopped fancying Edward Furlong, circa 1995.

My only conclusion is that you’re using some kind of telekinetic ability to implant saucy images in my head while I’m asleep. I’m going to conduct some initial research, by way of sleeping. If it happens again I think it could be classified as paranormal and therefore warrant further investigation by your colleagues. In the meantime, if you could send me a signed photo just so I can confirm your identity (I might have got you mixed up with someone else – after all, you know what dreams are like) that would be most helpful.

Yours sincerely,

Lucy Knight

Dear Darcey Bussell,

I’m sorry for the delay in writing to you. All the excitement over Strictly Come Dancing meant that I wasn’t quite compos mentis, yah? You know how it is. I was all swoony over Louis Smith and his delightful face and forgot where I was for a good few weeks. I’m sure you’ll agree he was a worthy winner with his beautiful arm extensions and his face. Did I mention his face? Yah.

So, Darcey, congratulations on another successful series. You’ve really come into your own, yah. So much so that Alesha Dixon is a distant memory now. You provide valuable insight into the ballet perspective of all the dances, because like they say, ballet and ballroom are one and the same, yah? Oh? They don’t? Never mind. They totally should.

Here are some Strictly-related questions I was hoping you might answer for me:

1. Do you plan the high-fives with Bruno in advance?
2. Isn’t it time Bruce retired?
3. For that matter, Tess too?
4. Please can Claudia Winkleman just have the whole of Strictly to herself?
5. Does Dave Arch EVER smile?

In addition to the above, would you mind sending me a signed photo please? I would be terribly grateful. Yah!

Yours sincerely,

Lucy Knight

Dear Professor Brian Cox,

May I first congratulate you on another new series of Stargazing Live, I haven’t managed to catch it yet due to work commitments but hopefully I will get a chance to see it on catch up TV (I know it defeats the object of a live broadcast, but what else am I to do Professor Brian Cox, what else indeed?).

I am quite the scientist myself having studied science as part of my GCSEs and attaining a respectable 2 grade Cs.  My most recent folly into science is the reason I write to you now and to share with you an exciting new discovery I have made, upon conducting a light refraction experiment in my own living room.  Whilst in the process using a mirror to reflect sunlight onto the floor so my cat would chase it (I lied about it being an experiment), a beam of light struck the corner of my glass table.  It was then that I saw ‘dolan’ – the name I have given to a new colour that appeared before me.  I was at first going to call it after yourself (you being a person whom I have great respect for), however  ‘professor brian cox’ seemed too much of a mouthful.  While the name ‘dolan’ does seem to have that ring to it, I think you’d agree.  I can see it now in updated versions of Cluedo – It was Dr Dolan in the loft conversion with the iPad .

I have attempted to document ‘dolan’ using my digital camera, however the screen does not seem to be able to pick ‘dolan’ up.  Whilst I search for a way to share my discovery  (which as I’ve already pointed out is both exciting and new) with your good self and also the rest of the world I was wondering if you might send me a signed photograph.

Yours sincerely,

Paul Dolan

P.S. I have to confess I don’t know too much in regards to the doomsday device you and your friends have invented in Switzerland , but I ask you is it really necessary?  It may seem all doom and gloom in the world at the moment but I’d have thought you would know more than most that things can only get better.

Dear Dominik Diamond,

I have recently come to terms with the fact that I am, for the time being, a girl gamer. I even have my own particular area of proficiency, namely First Person Shooters (of FPSs as we gamers call them, because we like jargon). Indeed, I am no longer a n00b and anyone who plays against me will be pwnd, but I’m in need of some advice. I was going to write to the Gamesmaster himself but what with his tragic and untimely death last year I left it a bit late and you’re basically his second in command so I’m writing to you. Here are my questions:

1. I don’t like the Zombies mode on Black Ops I or II. Is there something wrong with me?
2. Will the hacking on WaW and COD4 ever get sorted?
3. Is it true that Treyarch just piggybacked the existing Black Ops I servers when they launched Black Ops II and that’s why it’s really laggy?
4. Respawn delay on hardcore modes – yes or no?
5. Do you think Virgin Media should compensate me for the cost of my Xbox Live membership because my broadband’s been rubbish?

There aren’t many people in my circle of friends that I can talk these issues through with, on account of they have other, more pressing concerns of a real-life nature, and my gamer friends are too busy gaming to get into it all with me, so I’d be really grateful for your comments. Or a signed photo. Or both! No, if I have to pick, the signed photo will do please.

Yours sincerely,

Lucy Knight