Something Hot in a Cold Country - Part 1 By Jane Foster

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Well several hot spicy items have caught my attention these last few weeks. First of all I hear that the great Imran Khan has divorced his wife Jemima. Well let's face it, a name like Jemima is unforgivable at the best of times...to me it will always be associated with a rather passive, second rate PlaySchool doll (that comparison, by the way, will be meaningless to anyone not around in the 60s or 70s). Anyway, according to the papers I read, part of the marital dischord was that the aforementioned rejected lady does not share Mr Khan's love for Lipton's tea.

Well, well. There you have it. For quite a while now, social researchers have been telling us that the most popular causes of argument between couples are money and sex, respectively. When all along, spouses everywhere have probably been at each other's throats over choice of beverage. I bet in America right now, future spouses are signing pre-nuptial refreshments agreements.

Eeh, and to think at one time it was easy..the wives made the tea, in nice china cups, and it was always good old Tetleys, none of that foreign muck you get nowadays. But we have to face it, choice hits us in the face everywhere nowadays. I mean, even Kwik Save are selling camomile and mint teas. But choice breeds confusion amongst people whose minds are accustomed only to deciding which colour to paint the new extension, using only the Crown Period range.

So, to come to a thoroughly Daily Mail conclusion, the myriad choices of the global supermarket have been the main cause of rising divorce rates in Britain. Or at least Middle England. (Frankly, I'd rather live in Middle Earth than that Aga-infested pit. Even if I did have to put up with J.R.R.Tolkien).

Well, after reading about said disagreement between these two, I must admit I had the urge to contact the disappointed Liptons lover Mr Khan himself. To scream from the rafters my passion for Liptons iced tea. I had to restrain myself from writing an excited letter to Mr K expressing my particular love for the Mango flavoured variety, and the strange lack of availability of this particular bottled beverage in 'ull (except for the Happy Shopper - cultured types their owners, y'know). Because, for all his faults (ie marrying someone called Jemima) he is rather fit isn't he, that Khan guy? Dark skin in white clothes, you can't beat it. Not even with a top class cricket bat.

But..just as I gave in to temptation and was putting together my words of Lipton's love, I came across an even more startling, nay, earth-shattering piece of news : BARBIE HAS DUMPED KEN!!!!

What do you mean, you didn't know? Well, it might not make Hello! Magazine, but for gawds sake you must have seen the front page of Dolls Weekly? Yes, it's true, the top doll herself has decided to give Ken the push, and acquire a Permatan. Not that these two facts are linked in any way, I hear. Unless she's been secretly ravaged by David Dickinson.

I expect Ken is devastated. Where can he go for support? I don't think Relate provide counselling for separated toys. But what were Barbie's reasons? Apparently, according to sources, she just wanted to move on and it wasn't him, it was her who had the problem, she said. Mmm.. sounds like even children's fantasy figures have cottoned on to contemporary bullshit excuses for I'm bored with you, get the fuck out of my life.

Maybe Barbs, God love her, has decided she wants a real man instead of a piece of plastic. That would be rather ironic, when elsewhere in the world women are dumping real men in favour of a piece of plastic.. yes, I'm talking about the vibrating variety, in particular the R.R. ( Rampant Rabbit .., for all those who've never watched Sex and the City). These things seem to be popping up everywhere.. chortle chortle. Yes, as I was casually glancing out of the bus window today, I came across a strange sight - what seemed to be 'ull's first Sex Superstore. Located somewhere on Mount Pleasant, of all places.. I can't recall the name of the shop now but it was a huge building with a vast corrugated roof painted bright yellow, with big pictures of red stiletto heels along the side windows.

Yegads! What is this city coming to? I thought to myself. I thought it was bad enough the other day when I stumbled across a seedy local ahem, massage parlour, Xanadu. Right next to an equally dodgy sandwich shop with a huge sign outside saying For people who work up an appetite. They must be sharing the rent for the flats above, surely?

Something Hot in a Cold Country - Part 1 continued

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