Sue’s so perky even a hit of Kama Sutra tequila can’t blunt her wit
What a choice. as america prepares to decide between the two oldest presidential candidates ever to run for the White house, Donald trump and Joe Biden appear to be starring in a remake of that Jim Carrey movie, Dumb and Dumber.
at 74 and 77, they’re Senile and Seniler. Just be grateful that Brits don’t vote in their election.
Nobody appears to have told Sue Perkins, though. the former Bake Off presenter was wringing her hands on both sides of the wall in her travelogue, Along The U.S.–Mexico Border (BBC1).
‘how many times do we have to put these things up before we realise this is not the way?’ she wailed, gazing at an endless stretch of cast-iron barrier looped with razor-wire.
Breathe deeply, dear, and calm your nerves. ‘We’ haven’t anything to do with it. It’s a U.S. matter, and despite your quiff, no one could ever mistake you for an american.
this is a common delusion for lots of liberal luvvies. they imagine they run the whole world — or, if they don’t, they ought to.
that’s how we end up deposing dictators in other people’s countries and get mired in decadelong conflicts.
It’s a good job that most of the
Mexicans she met have better things to do than gripe about politics. In tijuana, just over the line from California, they’re busy partying . . . all the time.
While Sue was tutting about the injustice of immigration controls, a man in a sombrero was parading a donkey that was striped with black and white paint. Or perhaps it was a pet zebra. Either way, at least one of them was stewed to the gills.
In an effort to catch up, Sue tried a slug-and-swallow tequila tasting at a nearby off-licence that boasted hundreds of ornate bottles of the local liquor. By the fourth shot, a gloopy spirit called Kama Sutra Sexy Cream, she sounded as if her tongue had turned to damp carpet.
the one-liners were blurred but her wit wasn’t. ‘Mmm,’ she mumbled, ‘it’s complex, it’s sugary, I’m getting burned bin liner . . . and then the alcohol hits.’
that’s where the comedienne excels. When she isn’t trying to impress us with undergraduate philosophising about migrants and morality, Sue is an exhilarating travel guide. People like her, because she clearly wants to be liked and never stops talking. Well, most people like her, anyway.
Joining a festival for the Day of the Dead in Nogales, she boogied alongside a child who was wearing a bridal gown with her face painted like a skull.
‘You’ve got it going on!’ Sue shouted, trying to attract her attention. the little girl ignored her intently. Being a corpse-bride probably takes a lot of concentration.
Intense concentration is the keynote of The Repair Shop (BBC1), which returned with new afternoon episodes. It’s deeply relaxing to watch a craftsman (or craftswoman) so absorbed in their work that they can barely speak. Every item restored on the show brings pleasure, but every now and then something exceptional turns up. this time, it was a battered leather clutch-bag from the 1930s, brought in by 82-yearold Derek from Stockport.
It was the only thing he owned that had belonged to his mother, who died aged 25 when he was just two. he couldn’t remember her, but he treasured the creased, black-and-white photo she’d kept in the bag.
It showed her, beaming at the camera and holding a baby Derek on her lap. Wisely, the Repair Shop never offers valuations on items, because things like that are beyond price.