There will come a day when Darling, a creature with nothing to lose, will pull back that mask and reveal himself to be an alien that has landed from planet Zonga Zonga. He’ll tell us in that understated monotone drone that he, with the help of Uri Geller, is in the process of completing a comprehensive report on human behaviour that’ll precede an imminent and devastating Zonga Zonga invasion.
Who thinks Anne Robinson is fit? If you are one of these unfortunates deluded into believing that this facially-enhanced old trout with a neck resembling folded crepe paper needs his, or even her, head examined.
These people on The Weakest Link who try to flirt with Anne as she tells them that they are fat, bald, short, small-breasted, large-breasted, poorly dressed, with no-hope jobs and little or no intelligence should just have the wherewithal to say: ‘Look, Anne, I’d rather file my own head than spent a night of passion with you. Now, shut up and get on with asking the ruddy questions.’
Like Anne, Tom cannot now be regarded as sexy. He looks like a twilight moon wearing a goatee. Whoever thought Tom Jones is an object of desire needs a cataract operation or some sort of emotional realignment training.
Yes, he has a voice like a banshee, but let’s face it, you wouldn’t want ol’ moonface bearing down on you wearing a look of hardened desire as you lie back on black satin sheets ready for the ‘magic’ to begin.
Sex or bomb? You decide…
Have you seen the section when David Blaine asks a person on the street to look into his eye and think of an object? Then he draws an image of what they are thinking. Usually it’s a key or some other household object.
This has to be a fix. Can’t remember anyone drawing an outline picture of a penis.
Have you ever seen a more uptight collection of females in your life?
Didn’t think so.