I could never marry Nigella Lawson.
Every night she’d sneak out of bed to raid the fridge. How bad would it be to come down stairs every morning and find out all your Rice Krispies have been used to make biscuits?
Why can’t she just wake up in the middle of the night and go on Facebook like every other normal person?
Equally annoying would be Strictly’s, Darcey Bussell who would mark everything you did out of 10…
Shopping, 7. Cooking, 8. Housework, 4. I’d be scared as there are some activities I wouldn’t want marked in case she held up a minus number card.
And, much as I love Countdown’s Susie Dent, I’m not sure I’d want to be with someone who corrects and analyses everything I say.
I couldn’t sit on the sofa watching football and drinking beer whilst she just sits there in her chair in “Dictionary Corner” reading her favourite book. The same book she’s been reading for 25 years.
She’s so brainy, you’d think by now she’d have learnt how to spell her own name? Surely, it’s “Suzy” not “Susie”? You’d think she’d have looked that up in her dictionary?
I also couldn’t marry weathergirl, Rachel Mackley because, nice as she is, she’s just like a little old lady, always banging on about the weather. “It’s too hot” or “It’s too cold.” Just give it a rest.
Another weathergirl, Becky Mantin, is also lovely but – and I’m not sure if I’m imagining this – she always seems to wink at me at the end of her forecast.
It’s really freaking me out. Next, she’ll be brushing her hair and crawling out of the tv like that girl from The Ring films.
Luckily, I’m not famous enough to marry any of them – although I am famous for being totally unknown.
But I did once go out with “Miss Rear of the Year.”
And I couldn’t wait to see the back of her.
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Russ Writes 
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