Beware dirty old famouses, says FH.
Call me cynical (it’s one of my potential baby names after all) but I’m not exactly rushing to the nearest Kleenex box, preparing to weep tears of sympathy for the girl who claims she was sexually abused by comedian Chris Langham.
Admittedly, being coerced into having sex with an old testicle sack like Chris Langham whatever age you are would be a pretty horrific experience. But isn’t it interesting that the woman, now 25, only decided she’d been abused when, as she herself put it, ‘he lost interest in me’. So she started sending him threatening messages saying she’d go to the police.
Now don’t get me wrong, Chris Langham is clearly a dirty old fucker and the world would probably be a far better place if his cock was cut off. But can this girl – a wannabe actress by all accounts who went backstage to seek him out herself – really claim that she didn’t know what she was doing? And is that the slight whiff of Revenge by Calvin Klein I smell in the air?
Funnily enough, I remember being exactly the same age and acting in a radio play – the part of my dad was being played be a very famous actor in his early fifties and the dirty old cunt started coming on to me.
‘Can I take you for a champagne lunch?’ he pleaded.
‘No!’ I snapped.
‘Why not?’ he implored.
‘Because,’ I said, rolling my eyes with adolescent irritation. ‘I have a history exam.’
The sleazy old bugger pestered me for weeks and I just repeatedly humiliated him so much in public at one point actually calling him ‘a dirty old man’ that he soon slunk off with his copy of Saga magazine between his legs. And I saved my virginity for someone special and meaningful instead… in fact, so special that only the other day I was thinking, now what the fuck was his name again?