Carlisle is like a favourite uncle. You love him, but sometimes he makes you cringe.

I have been cringing for much of the past week, since KFC’s drive-through opened on London Road.

A city gridlocked by people’s desperation to eat fried chicken.

Local residents abused by people using their street as a car park.

Litter dropped in surrounding streets.

This is like seeing your uncle break wind, swear at your mum and collapse in a drunken heap.

You try and make excuses for him, while wondering where to hide the whisky. And the chicken.

When asked by the News & Star if anything was being done to help people living near their new restaurant, a KFC spokesman said:

“We can’t thank everyone enough for their support so far and we’re excited to satisfy the appetite of Carlisle’s KFC fans for years to come.”

You have to admit, he’s doing a good job of hiding his anguish.

I’m struggling to understand why people are so eager to visit KFC.

I used to go to the branch on Botchergate in Carlisle when I was a child. Back then there was a distinct lack of frenzy.

My dad would ask for some chicken. Some chicken would be provided. No one got upset. Except the chicken.

That was in the distant days when the chain was called Kentucky Fried Chicken.

Now you won’t find any mention of those words at KFC. ‘Fried’ is the new F-word.

People who live in the London Road area are concerned that McDonald’s and Costa will soon both be opening drive-throughs near KFC.

So is anyone who doesn’t want their journey across Carlisle to last longer than a Ken Dodd show.

The thought of thousands of Cumbrians using drive-throughs does not exactly fill me with joy.

Then again, I have a morbid fascination with how unhealthy people can be.

Will anyone attempt the London Road hat-trick of KFC and McDonald’s, washed down with Costa coffee?

If they consumed all this in their car, would they be able to fit through the door to get out?

That would be like a new twist on the pub crawl. In fact, a pub crawl suddenly seems a healthy option.

At least you get a bit of exercise while walking between pubs. Or a lot of exercise as every straight line turns into a zig-zag.