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