Thursday, 3 August 2017
Having the 'So, which celebrities would be on your list for a Free Pass' game can sometimes have disturbing, nay nightmare-inducing effects. Especially when your beautiful, intelligent, relatively sane wife unleashes a series of deeply unsettling mental images that would make even the most twisted writer of slash-fiction retch into their wank-hankies (wankies?).
The chill of existential horror which shuddered through my every cell will echo through the remainder of my life like the ghost of a bad bacon sandwich.
I have no issue with Ed himself. I even met him recently (see the photo for proof of this) and he was an enthusiastic gentleman, eager to help garner support from the local constituents for our Labour MP. He was interesting and engaging and friendly.
Again, I must say I have no issue with Ed. Ed isn't the problem. When my wife is murmuring about 'Ed's liberal, authentic, sincere compassionate policies' while sleeping in her This Wouldn't Have Happened If Ed Miliband Were Prime Minister t-shirt she got from the Miliverse online store, I can't help but feel a bit miffed.
To defend myself and try to restore some balance, I had to pick a celebrity crush as well. I decided on the lovely Jesy Nelson from pop sensations Little Mix (I blame all the smouldering looks and *that* smile). Hello Jesy. I hope you don't mind.
My wife's phone and iPad wallpapers are both of Ed in 'sexy' moments, or rather 'a bit gormless' moments to everyone but my wife (and presumably his as well). She has a poster of him during his Radio 2 interview with Barney from Napalm Death next to her side of the bed, (thanks a bunch, Kerrang) and between random songs, her YouTube sessions invariably include speeches, interviews or videos of Ed verbally destroying pork-product-enthusiast David Cameron while wearing a smart tie and doing the 'I'm making a point' lean.
When asked why she likes him, she says “Because he's more bothered about doing the good stuff than he is about looking good doing it. He doesn't mind looking like a bit of an arse as long as he's doing the right thing. ” What? I've been making myself look like an arse for the whole ten years we've been together and it just makes me look like a heavy metal version of Frank Spencer.
You see, I can't help but be a bit depressed by this. Here I am, a bald Yorkshireman with a wardrobe of comic book t-shirts and very little in my head other than trivia about eighties genre movies, dealing with my beloved spouse salivating over a man often likened to Wallace from Wallace and Gromit and derided for his numerous unfortunate moments with consumable items.
He may be more successful, richer, more respected and generally way further in life than I'll ever be, but hey, as celebrity crushes go, I guess she could have gone the other way and been throwing her knickers at Jacob Rees-Mogg. Actually, she might still do that, but may fill them with locusts or something first. We peasants are like that.
But to get to the point, I'd like to say this: Claire – I met Ed and you didn't. So there.