Sex With Edwina Currie
Oops, there’s your lunch againPhoto by Klara Avsenik on Unsplash
I actually wanted to talk about eggs and chips, but ever since the weekend the world has been taken over with some wild chatter about politicians and their desirability; sexually.
It all started when a journalist in a London newspaper asked the question — which politician would you most like to have a threesome with? And the choice offered was extremely wide; they could be living or dead, current or whatever. And this has wrought a huge storm of sexual discussion leading to some rather unusual discoveries.
The nation is rocking anyway as we all struggle to come to terms with the very unsettling — if you’re over 21 that is —’ Normal People’ where the director must have said ‘get your kit off love, you’re on in a minute’ more times than he would care to remember as most of it centres around a young girl in bed with a young bloke.
One minute they’re together, next minute they’re not. And then it’s all back on again and there they are in bed together happily humping away, and then it’s all off again, and wait a minute, what’s happened now, ahh, they’re back between the sheets again. It gets confusing.
Anyway, back to the political threesome. It appears that a great number of people, men I assume, or maybe not, have a fancy for Edwina Currie. Remember her? She was the junior health minister who in 1988 decimated the British egg industry by suggesting there was a prevalence of salmonella in eggs.
But that wasn’t what she ended up being really famous for, in fact that was even more disturbing; it later came out that she was actually being rattled by the then Prime Minister, John Major.
Just think about that one for a minute; imagine you’re married to her and she comes home after an afternoon with the grey-haired whisperer in some flat in Balham or somewhere, and then you don’t realise it of course but sooner or later you’re going to be stirring John Major’s porridge.
People have taken this threesome thing extremely seriously and they don’t seem to have any shame as they talk seriously on Twitter about their very unhealthy desires for some of the most repulsive politicians on the planet, but then that’s just my opinion.
And what do I know; I like eggs and chips.
Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with fine dining; give me an overpriced eight course tasting menu any day and I’ll slurp my way through it and not leave a crumb of tarte tatine on my plate, but the moment you break the egg yoke and it starts to drip down onto the chips and you work hard to try and stop it reaching the plate, that’s proper food that is, and never let anyone tell you different.
For those who may be unsure, the picture at the top is porridge.