Reality TV star of "Celebrity Carwash" and presenter of "The Voice Factor" backstage companion show "I'm doing this for my dead hampster", Mrs Mountable shares her thoughts on the week's main event
Another day another political sex scandal. As the baying crowds rip and tear I crave a moment of our collective valuable time to reflect on the real victim in all of these brouhahas, or as I will abbreviate for expediency, bras,
"Who is it" I hear you ask. Well obviously it's the man. And I'll tell you for why.
Men are beasts. As they drift through their lives from callow youth to hairy chested hunter-gatherers, these poor souls are at the mercy of one over riding force.
Front bottom urgings.
As the hairy chested hunter-gatherer phase wanes and they achieve silver haired wisdom, do their urgings diminish?
NOT ONE JOT.
As they travel through the years their companion, or companions must keep up. It is a well-known fact that a rich old white man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a younger wife, slash wives. Who, of course negates their advancing years and is never mistaken in public for their daughter or granddaughter.
These are the facts.
It is not the fault of the octogenarian millionaire that his wife has selfishly given into the ravaging of ageing. There is nothing so demeaning to a man of wealth and taste than the fact that his wife can remember him when the height of his culinary tastes ran to and not exceeding, a large bag of chips and a tub of curry sauce.
Ladies reading, who may have been smeared with the feminazi brush, I will put this analogy to you in a way that you will no doubt understand.
No matter how good our old, old washing machine has been, once it's reached the end of it's usefulness, one simply replaces it, with a newer and therefore, better one. One does not stand over it remembering it's loyalty and devotion and refusing to move on, does one?
No, one most certainly does not.
If a red-blooded man feels these stirrings, consider for a moment how very, very hard it gets for him. As he hides himself away night after night in his locked study scouring the internet for information, he compares his needs to his reality, devoted Doreen or Daphne, who has the arrogance to acquire wrinkles and who selfishly places constant demands on his time and or support.
He is faced with a choice.
Should he bravely indulge his natural feeling to embrace his inner Viking complete with be-horned helmet and peep toe wedge sandals (for added sauce)- whilst spending thousands on Class A pharmaceuticals and professional front bottom wranglers well versed in the art of naughty boys; OR waste his time in costly counselling sessions where he confesses to his proclivities, confronts his inability to make a commitment to his life partner and recognises that no matter how many breasts he fondles, no matter how much money he has, he is getting old and will eventually die.
Well clearly the former is best as the wife has selfishly chosen to age.
Then factor in how exhausting all the lies and duplicity are for him. Frankly it is abuse being waged against the poor, poor fellow, by his battleaxe partner slash partners.
Some have the good grace to be shoved aside as well they should be and there follows shameful and shocking maintenance payments, as further younger wives also fail to live up to their side of the bargain, by getting old.
This unfair financial outlay further impinges on this hard-working man's ability to buy more drugs and sexual services, condoms and lubricant, hotel rooms and sandals and Viking helmet polish.
Some poor men can't even afford to go private and have to settle instead for hand relief behind the office photocopier from big-breasted Sharon, the maternity leave temp, in exchange for a machine dispensed hot chocolate and a packet of Quavers.
It's so very sad.
So let us pause in all our attacks on these men, let us remember that as a society we have a duty to care for those who are made vulnerable by nothing more than instinct, careful planning, lies, costumes, a chap with the number of a reliable dealer, a bank account the wife knows nothing about, opportunity and younger women professionally required to find them irresistably sexy.
Never forget these men are the real victims here.
Your celebrity friend, Mr M x