Ever taken a wank-bullet? Yup: I have. As in, yes, I’ve taken the blame – on more than one occasion – for someone else dumping a batch of porn on my hard-drive. Traumatic. But more on this later.

I’d had it with Peep Show. Seasons 4 and 5 were dead to me: repetitive rehashes of seasons 1-3, more of the same drudgery about the two loser flatmates, Mark and Jeremy – that diptych of berks who fail, fail again, and fail worse, professionally, romantically and socially, all accompanied by a drone of self-depreciating monologues. Season 6? I’d rather watch Friends, I thought.

But how wrong I was. Not only does Armstrong and Bain’s latest incarnation mark an end to the laughter drought of the previous two series, but it’s a densely-written return to the germane social commentary of the first three seasons that cut apart the web 2.0 generation. And for reasons of space I’ll refine this sweeping assertion to just one word: wank-bullets. I’m talking about wank-bullets.

Because, when, like me, Jez – you know, the taller of the two – saves the reputation of a couple of friends by taking what he ingeniously terms a ‘wank-bullet’ for their web-based transgressions, he sums up our sordid, superficial generation in a word. He’s summarising with one, hilarious epithet the generation that delivered the internet; that coined the phrase “I’m on the train”; that wrote essays on their laptops; that reduced the RSVP to ‘Yes/No/Maybe’; the generation that condensed friendship into covering for a friend’s frustrated jizzing. “Jez,” I mouth at my MacBook Pro, “you Noughties hero.” And he’s even got a little mime-gesture to go with it: a vigorous masturbatory hand-motion followed by a pistol-fist pointed at his temple, Russian-roulette-style. Television gold.

Narrative-wise, nothing is that new: Mark’s having a baby with his ex-wife, Sophie, true, but he’s still a romantic failure; Jez is once more having an ill-fated affair with an exotic but attached woman; and they both lose their jobs, several times. But the chuckles are back. Take the scene of the series: Super Hans – surely the least paternal crack addict on the box – reveals he’s been the proud father of twins for several years. Twins? “Yeah, the twins. The fucking twins.” And how old are they, Super Hans? “Dunno. About seven. What’s ‘fünf’ in English?”

Genius. Dump this on my hard-drive any day.