The Faggy was simply overcome with excitement last night as a much missed friend re-entered her boudoir. That’s right my darlings, top telly show ‘which one of you mistresses is my bitches?’ was back with a vengeance and like a frat boy on Viagra, it more than rose to the occasion.
We had hospital porters with porn star looks who handily turn out to be single heart surgeons. ‘Cause that’s always happening to me! Except for the bit where they’re married to women called Dawn, have hairy arseholes and work in IT.
We had fabulously liberal brides-to-be who giggled when their fiancé came back from his stag do with scratch marks. ‘Cause that’s always happening too my darlings! Bridezillas-to-be are so fabulously well adjusted, laid back and non-tyre-slashy at the idea of their fiancé seeing another vajayjay!
And finally we had a new mum filling her hours between night feeds by rushing out to hotel bars where an apparently endless supply of Next catalogue dad models were queuing up for casual sex. ‘Cause that’s always happening too! New mums with stretch marks, zero sleep and cervical stitches adore a bit of a rough hard seeing-to by a stranger! And Travelodges are just crawling with Simon McCorkindale lookalikes!
But despite the credulity being stretched wider than Ulrika’s front bottom, still nous adorons les mistresses. After all, where else on BBC1 prime time do you get to see ladeez discussing the loss of their anal cherry?