Now, before anyone starts accusing me of anti-wimmen-ism, I should say this: some of my closest friends are wimmen. Hell, quite a few of my family are.
So, there’s the fig leaf I’ll hide behind while I say this: some wimmen do have appalling taste, don’t they?
Gordon Brown, sometimes described as dour and sombre, has made it into a list of the world’s 100 sexiest men.
The chancellor’s serious demeanour appears to have struck a chord with readers of NW (New Woman) magazine, who voted him in at number 97.
Sure, he may be running the country into the ground; sure, he may be the biggest statist since Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov; sure, he may be about to get the reins handed to him without any form of democratic oversight. But he’s seen as a bit of alright, so that’ll be fine then.
The Sweary Lady has a totally non-controversial view on why young Bertie Ahern gets away with being on the take: he’s seen as a ‘cute hoor’; the auld biddies of the land feel sorry for him, and just want all those nasty people to stop delving into the ancient past. Like when he was getting brown envelopes…
And, to put the evil icing on the bad taste cake, they put Take That on top of the charts.
Wimmen of the world: what is your defence?
Now hold on a minute! Take That had nothing to do with me! That Gorden Brown though… I mean, c’mon!
Gordon Brown, outlook like sun
Lays me down, takes off my undies…
I said some, didn’t I? Some have been fighting The Good Fight against the cute hoors of the world for many years, and are thus excused from the post.
Or they were, until that little pastiche at the end.
If some women didn’t get off on the Gordon Browns, the Tony Blairs, the Berties (not mine) and the Bushes then those sort of people wouldn’t get born.
Maybe this would be a good thing?
And are you sure that this post isn’t another of your ruses to get Sandra to say something lovely about you?
JUst how machiavellian do you think I am? No, this was actually a rather transparent plot to bring up the number of comments, ‘cos it’s been quiet round here lately.
Anyway, with the recent postage and the stress of writing a thesis, I’m sure that the best thing Sandra would say about me at the minute would be compliments about my corpse.
You mean things like “He’s very like himself”.
Nah. She’d be brokenhearted. We’d all be. Nobody wants to see the young & beautiful lying in the cold, cold clay.
I was thinking more “oh, the brutal method of murder didn’t disfigure him too badly”. I now have a perfectly rational fear of people carrying large flasks of liquid N2…
I’m not talking to you after the slagging you gave my profession yesterday. But for your readers, is it because when Mr Brown smiles, there are fewer teeth? Both the Blairs are afflicted with too many teeth.
I actually reckon it’s ’cause he’s so sweet about his children.
Slagging? What slagging? I only noticed a highly insightful opinion piece, one that’s certain to get me a book deal. Or a magazine article at the very least.
I thought it was an Irish Blog Award you were after.
Why limit it to just Irish? I’m not looking for Irish domination; it’s gotta be global or nuffink.