So...who’s fin­ger goes in who’s ring?

Midweek Sport - - NEWS -

CHAN­NEL 4’s Plane Crash was awe­some telly – pro­vid­ing you fast-for­warded past the boffins to the money shot of the Boe­ing 747 be­ing de­lib­er­ately crashed into a desert.

It also pro­vided some in­ter­est­ing food for thought, par­tic­u­larly the fact that first-class pas­sen­gers are more likely to die than us plebs in steer­age.

Given the choice, I’d still rather fly first class.

So what if you have more chance of dy­ing? You also have more chance of a ran­dom blowie from the hot, tipsy stranger sit­ting next to you while a Swedish host­ess pours you an­other glass of free bub­bly.

So at least you’ll go with a smile on your face. EASTEN­DERS had a gay wed­ding this week.

Not gay as in “happy”, ob­vi­ously. Since when did any­one on ’En­ders have a happy wed­ding?

No, I mean a ho­mo­sex­ual “civil part­ner­ship” – al­though, to be fair, you do not see much ci­vil­ity around Al­bert Square ei­ther.

It was Chris­tian and Syed who wanted to slip their fin­gers into each oth­ers’ rings. But, be­ing tra­di­tional types, they de­cided to get mar­ried first.

In­evitably, things did not go as smoothly as they had hoped.


Firstly, the two sep­a­rate stag par­ties ended up in the same place – the Queen Vic.

Well, that was al­ways go­ing to hap­pen. It is not like they live in the most densely pop­u­lated cor­ner of the world’s great­est me­trop­o­lis – you can hardly ex­pect a lit­tle place like Lon­don to have more than one boozer.

Chris­tian’s stag party had a cow­boy theme, which made sense in a Broke­back Moun­tain way.

I did not re­ally get why Syed’s mob were dressed as pi­rates, though – un­less it was be­cause he likes it up the ar­rrrrrse.

Syed ended up kiss­ing then deck­ing an old flame, some flash City boy who wanted to play FTSE un­der the ta­ble.

Weirdly, when Chris­tian saw Syed’s bruised fist, he SMELT it. I would not like to say where he thought it had been but I guess you can’t blame him for check­ing.

That hand was due to feed him wed­ding cake the next day.

Af­ter a lot of willthey-won’t-they bob­bins, the two lovers even­tu­ally walked down the aisle.

To be fair, that was back in Au­gust. By now, pre­sum­ably, he has low­ered it to well be­low half-mast, and stuck an Ever­ton stan­dard up high.

Amus­ingly, they used sub­ti­tles when a Scouser was talk­ing but not when keeper Pepe Reina ( is speak­ing in heav­ily ac­cented English.

It is al­most as if they do not be­lieve any ac­tual Liver­pudlians would want to watch this em­bar­rass­ing guff!


Well, I say aisle. The ser­vice took place in Syed’s res­tau­rant, which seemed fit­ting.

Gay mar­riage, back street curry houses – both are great ex­am­ples of the tol­er­ant, mul­ti­cul­tural Bri­tain in which I’m proud to live.

Plus, both can ruin your a*se­hole.

Sadly, there was more drama to come. Just as the speeches be­gan, a bunch of bailiffs turned up to re­pos­sess the joint. That is an im­pres­sive heckle! At first Chris­tian did not look too both­ered. He prob­a­bly saw all those burly men in uni­form and as­sumed it was the Vil­lage Peo­ple trib­ute act he’d booked for the re­cep­tion.




Not for hu­man con­sump­tion.

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