As the long term reader
of The JT, marooned on a pacific atoll with naught but the keening gulls and an active
internet connection for company, can attest, it is rare for your editor’s jottings to
stray far into slightly off-colour territory. Indeed, in a world increasingly
characterised by wanton sexual license of the most disturbing kind, your editor has cause
to daily give thanks that age and terminal physical unattractiveness, successfully
insulates from the temptations of, and indeed access to, the flesh. Or at least,
that’s what I tell the wife…
Therefore, this week, it pains me to have to cast aside my usual self-denying ordinance
with respect to all things shagging-related in the higher pursuit of simple truth. And
therefore I must ask that lady readers of a delicate disposition have smelling salts at
the ready as I ask the question: See that Heather the Weather? Is she up the duff or whit?
A word of explanation might be in order here to the benefit of those JT readers cruelly
far-flung and living abroad in Foreign. Week nights on BBC Scotland, fragrant forecaster,
winsome weatherperson, Heather stands before a blue screen and tells the waiting millions
what they already know: the weather’s going to be shite.
Now, over the last few weeks, as your editor and SO enjoy a post-prandial coffee and
hunners of chocolate we have both noticed a slight change in Heather’s shape as she
stands side-on explaining to the TV audience why we’re expecting rain non-stop until
October. That’s October, 2005 by the way. Anyway, not to put too fine a point on it,
Heather’s starting to stick oot at the front.
Could it be, we are reluctantly forced to consider, that Heather has been at the old
horizontal rhumba? And further do the consequences of such sinful dalliances increasingly
take up more of the TV screen, weeknights at about five to seven?
In the nature of these things, only time will tell, but the clarion call goes out now
to all hame-based JT readers. What do you reckon? Duffed or not duffed? Has Heather simply
been over-indulging in steak pie suppers or, horrors of horrors, has she been gaun’
wi’ a maun?
In the interests of truth and justice we must be told. And foreign based readers need
not feel left out in our dignified and not at all salacious quest for verity. The young
people tell me that there are these things called "Pee Seas" on which it is
possible to view "clips" of TV shows "cached" by the TV company. Wild
rumour dressed as fact?
The febrile outpourings of young minds driven mad by drugs? Perhaps. But if such
technological wizardry does exist, then every exiled JT reader knows what they must do:
Observe and report. The pursuit of truth and my completely non-pervy interest in the
sex-lives of minor celebs demands compliance.
