Friday, January 03, 2003
Another fantastic Thing Mil Millington's girlfriend and he have argued about:
"Robbie Williams is a singer. Formerly a member of Take That, since he left he has divided his time fairly equally between music and rehab. I mention this because I believe he hasn't 'broken' America (Bloke: 'So - did you break America?' Second Bloke: 'No, it was like this when I got here.') and so the vast number of idlers from that country present here might not know who I'm talking about otherwise. For, you see, Margret has 'A Thing' for Robbie Williams. No problem with that, of course. I quite like Robbie Williams and, anyway, as someone who still hopes that one day he'll have the opportunity to roll about covered in Corr sisters I'm hardly in a position to criticise. What causes the sucking of teeth and drumming of fingers is that, while she tuts and sneers at the scruffiness of my base desires, she dresses hers up in finery. If we're watching a movie with Gina Gershon in it, she'll constantly be peering at me, asking me 'What are you doing with your hand?', etc. Yet I get told to pack it in if, when Robbie Williams is on TV, I examine the dopey grin stuck immovably onto her face. The limit, however, is reached by her denial that she fancies Robbie Williams. This is what she said; "Tch - I don't fancy him. Yes, he is good looking and sexy and funny and has lots of charisma. I'd like to meet him - spend time with him and really get to know him, find out what he's like, what he feels and thinks. But I don't fancy him.' Splendid. I'd like Neve Campbell to surprise me in the shower; our wet, naked bodies sliding and pumping against each other as we become dizzy and breathless, lost in desire. But I don't want to have sex with her. OK?
(If you're reading this, Ms Campbell, I was just making a rhetorical point. Actually I want to have sex with you quite badly. And, Mr Williams, in exchange, I'm quite prepared to let Margret follow you about constantly asking 'What are you thinking?' Fair's fair.)"
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"Robbie Williams is a singer. Formerly a member of Take That, since he left he has divided his time fairly equally between music and rehab. I mention this because I believe he hasn't 'broken' America (Bloke: 'So - did you break America?' Second Bloke: 'No, it was like this when I got here.') and so the vast number of idlers from that country present here might not know who I'm talking about otherwise. For, you see, Margret has 'A Thing' for Robbie Williams. No problem with that, of course. I quite like Robbie Williams and, anyway, as someone who still hopes that one day he'll have the opportunity to roll about covered in Corr sisters I'm hardly in a position to criticise. What causes the sucking of teeth and drumming of fingers is that, while she tuts and sneers at the scruffiness of my base desires, she dresses hers up in finery. If we're watching a movie with Gina Gershon in it, she'll constantly be peering at me, asking me 'What are you doing with your hand?', etc. Yet I get told to pack it in if, when Robbie Williams is on TV, I examine the dopey grin stuck immovably onto her face. The limit, however, is reached by her denial that she fancies Robbie Williams. This is what she said; "Tch - I don't fancy him. Yes, he is good looking and sexy and funny and has lots of charisma. I'd like to meet him - spend time with him and really get to know him, find out what he's like, what he feels and thinks. But I don't fancy him.' Splendid. I'd like Neve Campbell to surprise me in the shower; our wet, naked bodies sliding and pumping against each other as we become dizzy and breathless, lost in desire. But I don't want to have sex with her. OK?
(If you're reading this, Ms Campbell, I was just making a rhetorical point. Actually I want to have sex with you quite badly. And, Mr Williams, in exchange, I'm quite prepared to let Margret follow you about constantly asking 'What are you thinking?' Fair's fair.)"
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