Twenty years ago, when Simon was a whippersnapper presenter on BBC Radio 1, he received thousands of letters from listeners confessing their darkest secrets and worst misdemeanours, begging for his forgiveness. Every day, Father Mayo read out a confession - and then he'd decide whether to grant forgiveness or not.

Read a classic Confession below, then Send Simon Your Confession

Dear Simon,

I am writing to you to relieve my conscience of a terrible burden. I did this terrible deed eight years ago.

I used to do a milk round, and I was doing well at it until one day I knocked the handbrake as I was getting out of the van to deliver a few pints.

I didn't notice my mistake until I was up the drive of the house I was delivering to. I heard a noise and turned, only to see the van rolling down the hill and then crashing into a brand-new car. I was literally 'up the garden path'. My boss came running up swearing and I ran down to the van in shock. Twenty-five crates of milk, a van worth £4,000 and a brand-new car were write-offs.

Then I formed an evil plan. I shouted. 'There they go! I saw them! I thought they were mucking around by the van!' I then claimed to have seen two paperboys messing around by the van, and as it was dark no one was any the wiser. My boss went fuming to the paper shop and demanded that the shop owner pay for the damage.

The result was that the two paper boys who delivered in that area were sacked without wages, my boss had to wait three days for a new van and lost most of his customers, the owner of the car (who had just bought it and got a pittance of insurance) had to buy another car (not such a good one), and I retired the next day.

I hope the car owner, the customers who got no milk, the milkman, the paperboys and the shop owner who had to deliver the papers himself for a week, can find it in their hearts to forgive me.

Yours,

Mr X.