Shameless ensures Mrs Doyle will never seem the same again

For anyone that’s seen even five minutes of one show, it’s stating the obvious to say that Shameless is not for the faint-hearted or the sensitive – and if you want to remember Pauline McLynn as Mrs Doyle with her teapot, then steer well clear.

The priest’s housekeeper now plays Libby, a librarian whose lift – it’s fair to say – isn’t going all the way to the top floor. Even more bizarrely, this quiet retiring mousy narcoleptic (she faints with any sort of excitement) falls for the debatable charms of Frank Gallagher, the biggest waste of space on the Chatsworth Estate.

And that’s saying something, because Chatsworth boasts more criminals, chavs, drug dealers and dossers than a decent sized city could reasonably expect to deal with.

The Jockey is the world’s worst pub but it’s packed day and night with dodgy punters who haven’t a job between them. Even worse, they are all either Irish or of Irish descent which may be uncomfortably close to the truth in such parts of Manchester.

It’s hard to encapsulate Shameless because it’s not a comedy but it’s hilariously funny; it’s not a soap but the storylines border on the utterly unbelievable; and while everyone’s life revolves around drugs, ducking, diving and drinking, it is not a crime drama.

For those who haven’t seen any of the previous seven series on Channel 4, Shameless started life with two main families of first generation Irish – the Gallaghers and the Maguires – who lived on the margins ... and on the dole.

Life has taken many turns and twists since then but Frank Gallagher remains the biggest layabout on the box, constantly inebriated but always willing to impart an incredible amount of his wisdom – either from the bar stool or the floor just underneath.

For more, read this week's Connacht Sentinel.