|LETTERS FROM LONDON
|REASONS TO BE CHEERFUL
8 September 2018
|A Helping Hand
Groan. Moan. No, not having a ‘romp’. ‘Romp’? How is having your head
repeatedly hitting the hard headboard - hard, smothered with your face in the
pillow, experiencing ‘a romp’ from the back – not simply gratuitous, prurient,
tedious sex – up the bum. But first you have to reveal your breasts – and
possibly your entire body.
Ah. Telly. What we are watching – endlessly: a couple having an hysterical
romp, gasping for breath, mouths open, possibly dribbling, writhing, ‘exerting’
away, on the desk, on the kitchen table, on a sideboard, against a wall, oh just
any hard surface the producers can find. Women on the bottom of course.
OUCH! Now, this could be any show…or every.
Time for: what the f***?!! Or, why the f***?! This has been out of control for
quite awhile now, the ubiquity of actresses groaning and moaning and acting as
if they are in ecstasy while displaying their breasts is – sigh - beyond
No need to even mention porn is there? So why do we really want to have to
suffer through every – no, really, nearly every show on tv?
The BBC has offered up the unwatchable Spanish drama, The Plague, for our
Saturday night viewing, two hours of uninterrupted viewing that is. So naturally
the six-part series begins with a seemingly healthy actress totally naked, walking
around and then the usual vigorous sex from behind. What exactly does this
have to do with the plague? Let me help here. Nothing. Unwatchable after five
ten minutes. Utter rubbish.
The BBC is also in partnership with Netflix to bring us sex in the form of
Wanderlust. Clue in the title. They did their best to get us all curious via
promises, promises in their pre-publicity promising a sexy, racy romp –their
"most x-rated drama ever". They call the six-part series “the most frank drama
about sex and relationships ever shown on BBC One”. All right. We got the
Now surely that would pique your interest. Wrong. The campaign group
Mediawatch-UK viewed it as “nothing more than soft porn dressed up as a mid-
life crisis”. Caught out then.
“Someone told me I was the first woman to have an orgasm on the BBC,” said
actress Toni Colette. “And I’m happy to take the accolade.” Oh no! You mean all
those hundreds of actresses moaning and groaning weren’t then? Shock,
horror! Now that is something to be proud of in your career. And why would we
want to see that exactly? No, really. Why would we? No one I know had an
answer. Groan. They all thought the sex was stupid, silly, unsexy and totally
gratuitous. Quelle surprise.
Yawn. Bored stiff, bored rigid, bored to tears - bored to death – if only. Bored!
We don’t care what happens. Assuming if you live in the heaven that is the
suburbs and you are middle-aged, and your routine is uninspired, and you
fancy your postman, Wanderlust will (possibly) make you lustful…ha, joking. It
won’t. Hands in pants. Oh. Groan.
Writhing, I mean staring Colette, Stephen Mackintosh and Zawe Ashton, written
by successful playwright, Nick Payne when he was 26. “Everyone’s sexually
frustrated, ha, ha.” ‘Ha, ha’? Really ha, ha? But even a well-crafted script isn’t
enough to continue for another five episodes.
The soundtrack is – arghhhhhh! not just cringe-making, it’s cringe-worthy. Mute
button required and quickly! Yet another trend to make us shout at the TV. Indie
lyrics: excruciating bad!
Dr Pam Spurr, sex and relationship expert said: “Younger people aren’t that
interested in sex on TV. They don’t want the same old ‘X-gets-off-with-Y’
dramas. If TV shows want younger audiences, they will have to feature more
diverse sex.” Uh oh. “More diverse”? Porn not enough? With younger people
have less actual sex - really?
OK. Name a programme without breast-obsession and mind-numbing sex.
Couldn’t, could you? OK. Politics Live. University Challenge, doesn’t count…so
With the desperation of the BBC and their obsession with showing us couples
having sex there is no end in sight, as it were. Now seriously who really wants to
see people having sex? Really! It’s BORING!
Getting His Affairs in Order
More sexual behaviours offer more boredom. It’s Boris. Buffoon, bonking, boring
Boris. Unless you have been comatose, you know, now his ‘long-suffering’,
‘high-flying lawyer’ wife, Marina Wheeler, has finally left him. Or as his
supporters say: 'clearing the decks' for the leadership contest. Lovely.
His ‘long-suffering’ wife who had been his mistress during his first marriage that
is. Twenty-five years of ‘long-suffering’. Will it have any affect? Not really. It’s
Boris. Perhaps they should have watched Wanderlust for ideas (ha) and (ha)
We know she has thrown him out twice before. Only twice? It’s not as if he was
ever faithful, was he? In 2004 he had that four-year affair with the writer
Petronella Wyatt that included one abortion and one miscarriage, an affair with
the journalist Anna Fazackerley in 2006 and then in 2010 when he is said to
have a child with art consultant Helen Macintyre, and all those we aren’t aware
of. Pants around his knees for years evidently.
If you have been seeing Boris as benign, look again. It has been reported that
Boris told Petronella that “it was unreasonable that men should be confined to
one woman". Shouldn’t he have told Marina? Now we really! don’t like him, do
we? We are included in ‘the long-suffering’.
Marina is said to be one of his closest political confidantes and advisers. Now
her replacement will be the ruthless Lynton Crosby. Nice. A regular conservative
poll has Boris backed by 35 per cent of members with a 20-point lead over
Home Secretary Sajid Javid who was in first and now in second place.
From his very lips: "My chances of being PM are about as good as the chances
of finding Elvis on Mars, or my being reincarnated as an olive."
"Voting Tory will cause your wife to have bigger breasts and increase your
chances of owning a BMW M3." Ah. Bless.
This ‘separated at birth’ with Baby Trump is getting a bit – uncannily bizarre. A
bit too ‘close’. The major difference is that Boris speaks English – if not always
intelligible, still, it’s recognisable as English.
But. All is not quite perfect in Boris’ narcissistic planet. Now Boris is facing
private prosecution over that blatant lie that Brexit would bring £350 million a
week to be used for the NHS. Uh oh. What will Boris do? If he speaks in those
non-sequiturs, alternating with Latin, he’ll possibly be just fine.
Remember Theresa’s African dance trip? Of course you do. Well, there is no
dancing in Botswana. Horrifically dozens of elephants have been found
slaughtered near a wildlife reserve in Botswana. Worse than the very fact, is that
in May the government announced that the Department of Wildlife and National
Parks’ anti-poaching officers would no longer carry weapons thus ending their
‘shoot to kill’ policy on poaching. Now it’s ‘shoot to kill’ all elephants. No
explanation was given. Botswana had a zero tolerance approach previously.
According to the Great Elephant Census, elephant populations in Africa are
declining at the rate of around 8% per year “primarily due to poaching”. An
aerial survey of the area around the Okavango Delta wildlife sanctuary revealed
the discovery of 87 dead elephants that was “indicative of a poaching frenzy”
that had been going on for some time.
More than a third of Africa’s remaining 352,271 elephants are found in
Botswana, considered the “last sanctuary” for elephants. Clearly no longer.
This week, China was overcome by its generosity giving $60bn for development
in Africa - no strings. Oh right. Political influence? Surely not. Britain’s trade
with Botswana in 2017 was £24m. And what do you have to say, Theresa? Huh?
Hmm. Huh? Oh Theresa….
Moving away from the horror of slaughter, we make moves at an event: Learn to
Dance Like Theresa May. No, really. More than 5,000 people so far have signed
up. If you are in Liverpool on 9 November…..
Putting Food on the Table
Now what would Cristiano Ronaldo, Rafael Nadal and – huh? Enrique Iglesias
have in common? Eating. OK. More detail is clearly necessary.
Eating together? With us. Well, not literally. But they are backing a restaurant,
and where you ask? London of course, because it has “the hottest culinary
scene in the world”.
In two weeks you can eat at ‘cult Ibizan’ restaurant, Zela in the ME London Hotel
in Aldwych. Serving? A fusion of Japanese and Mediterranean food.
Spanish entrepreneur, restaurant chain owner Manuel Campos said: “The food
scene is the best, the hottest in the world. It had to be here. London is the
perfect place to bring the Ibiza concept to. All of our backers are very involved
and are real foodie guys. Cristiano and Rafael in particular love London.” He
said that Cristiano and Rafael were particularly involved in the menu.
Remember that ridiculous New York Times writer, Robert Draper, who wrote
about us stuffing ourselves with boiled mutton and – remember him? Well, he
should be barred, if he ever acknowledges Dickensian London at all.