Who/what/where/when/how?

Let’s look at the evidence:

- A blue hand

- Emporio Armani pants

- Three large fingers

- A dirty leather jacket

- A leg. Maybe two.

Who lives, in a house like this? Who’s dropped trou’ in the back of a limo after a night on the razzle slash dazzle slash getting off one’s tits in a wankery nightclub called Boujis, like this…?

ps. We didn’t realise until flicking through the tellybox channels, bored off our tits the other day, that Through the Keyhole is still dragging its sorry ass round the digital waves. And Sir Dame David Frost is still presenting. And the lucky lady with the Lloyd Grossman gig (segue: Lloyd Grossman? Chef? We’ll be the judge of that) is none other than Lisa Snowdon. God love her, but she’s shite on the telly.

Another segue: Lisa Snowdon? Britain’s Next Top Model? We’ll be the judge of that.

Backintotheroom… So this bloke flashing his kecks is… *drum roll*…*another drum roll*… *and another*… *and ano… oh hurry* Niklas Bendtner.

*dramatic pause*

We haven’t a freakin’ clue. Footballer, apparently. Arsenal. Ooh, arse. And ooh, we like how his surname is spookily close to ‘bender’.

Haha, bender.

Wanna wanna wanna put a face to the bender bender bender…? Go on then.

Now you can’t tell us that wasn’t thrilling.