Banger Beans and Mash
I might have just a wee little bit of an innocent crush on Russell Brand. I just saw Get Him to The Greek and rather enjoyed it.
Hold on don’t get your knickers in a knot! I don’t find him more attractive than my husband by any stretch of the imagination. He’s just… interesting. In a sort of makes me wax sentimental for my mid-twenties kinda way.
But I would never be attracted to him, not even if my husband were passed on and resting comfortably in heaven. Should I out live my pookie bear, I will be too distraught and heart broken to breathe, let alone pant.
Not that Russell Brand makes me pant. My husband does, and even if he had never been born just the promise of what might be an earthly version of someone with his soul would be enough for me to wait an eternity for his incarnation.
Which is not to say that while waiting I might not be tempted to partake in a brief liaison with Russell Brand, if the opportunity should arise, just so that I might practice some pleasure techniques that men seem to enjoy, for when my soul mate, my husband, arrived in my life.
Let’s be clear here… if my husband had never been born, nay, his whole family line had never been born, lest I meet one of them and see in them the lineage that might produce someone as perfect for me as my husband, I might, just might, find Russell Brand a wit bit attractive.
And should I meet Russell Brand, were properly wooed by him and decided to gift him with carnal knowledge of my temple, I would do such naughty, nasty, unspeakable things to the limey bastard that Katie Perry would blush and join a convent.
That is to say if and only if my husband had never been born.