Okay, I ad­mit it... Liz must be filthy in the sack!

Midweek Sport - - FRONT PAGE -

ONE of the things about this col­umn-writ­ing lark is that you some­times need to ad­mit when you’ve been wrong.

And I reckon that I must have been very wrong about Liz Hur­ley (right).

Back when Hugh Grant got caught get­ting a nosh off that hooker in Hol­ly­wood, many of us nod­ded know­ingly.

“Ah!” we said. “Old Granty’s off dip­ping his wick with a ragged street tom be­cause he’s not get­ting the Real Mc­Coy in­doors.”

It stood to rea­son. While your Hur­ley may look pretty as a pic­ture, you never got the im­pres­sion she was at all dirty in the sack. For all that posh voice, you couldn’t imag­ine her do­ing “barn­yard squelchy” or “re­verse Glos­sop”, for ex­am­ple. Well, it’s clearly not so.


We read at the week­end that her new squeeze Shane Warne, the very epit­ome of lad­dish­ness – what our an­tipodean chums call a “lar­rikin” – has been tempted into us­ing skin care prod­ucts by La Hur­ley.

Ap­par­ently, War­ney slaps on a £71-a-pot anti-age­ing cream made from plank­ton, lark steam and sea urchin sweat, or some­thing.

For a bloke to do some­thing so “sit-downto-piss”, he needs a good rea­son. And I reckon the rea­son is this: Hur­ley must bang like a shit­house door when the plague’s in town.

So Liz, I apol­o­gise. You are clearly as dirty as a di­ar­rhoeal dog’s arse and I am truly sorry for ever think­ing other­wise.

WARNE OUT: Shane gets to spread his cream with Hur­ley

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