Yesterday I saw a café which claimed to be 'Britain's favourite coffee-place.' There was no sign of the advertising agency complaining. It got me thinking.
I am a writer. My wife really loves me. My goldfish loves me. So what's to stop me claiming to be the best-loved writer in the country?
Why stop there? Like a little child who cites his address in ever grander terms, I speedily concluded that I am the best-loved writer in Europe. I'm selling in the USA through Amazon and the rest of the world through Smashwords. So I am the best-loved writer in the world.
Hold your horses, Martin. NASA and Patrick Moore reckon there is no sentient life-form in the rest of the solar system capable of understanding the QWERTY keyboard. So I seem to be on safe ground in claiming to be 'MartinLake. The Best-Loved Writer in the Solar System.' Or MartinLake BLWITSS