A blind hedgehog being guided across a motorway by a nun with a wooden leg.

Noel Edmunds moving into the flat next door.

Opening a packet of Garibaldi’s only to find the little black bits really are dead flies.

For the normal humans amongst us any one of these situations would come as a bit of a surprise, but hearing that I am a badge–wearing fan of a gentleman’s touch, hmmm, not so much.

However, were I to tell you that I find overly-expressive displays of public affection unnecessary – to the point that they make my little sicky-flap twitch– it may be the case that your eyebrows adopt a slightly more ‘raised’ stance.

I’m serious. As much as I’m all for people exploring one another’s intimate nooks and crannies, I don’t think the rest of us need to have our eyeballs assaulted with the sight of such a thing (unless we’ve been officially invited to watch of course, in which case it’s best for all parties to be secreted behind closed doors, complete with a set of fully polished peepers, ogling said spectacle until it’s time to …erhem…pop).

No no, it’s the sloppy tongue–wrestling on the bus or the sneaky hand–up–the–skirt in the cinema that I cannot abide.

And before you berate me for my intolerant attitude towards the world’s affectionate lovers, let me give you a little example of why I feel this way…

On my way home from a smashing Tango lesson (more about that another week) I scurried into the supermarket for a few of your standard ‘bits’.

As I innocently stood pondering the merits of the ‘classic’ frozen pea over the slightly more ‘la-di-dah’ corn-on-the-cob whilst simultaneously fingering a box of Yorkshire Puds, my eyes clocked a young pair on the other side of the freezer, and they were completely oblivious to me… or indeed, anyone else. You see they appeared to have completely forgotten they were in public as they became mutually engrossed in the enormously erect nipples sported by the girl! Crikey!

Now perhaps you too have had a small giggle with your partner when the cold air in a freezer aisle has given you the look of a peanut smuggler– I know I have – but when one looks up from a packet of Aunt Bessie’s and finds ones eyes are affronted with the sight of a woman firmly pressing a fish–finger against one bare nipple and a frozen sprout against the other as her boyfriend measures the relative effectiveness of the two with a small ruler…well, I’m sure even you’d agree it’s a sight offensive enough to make the eyes bleed.

Suffice to say I dropped the Yorkies (the pea/cob debate all but vanished from my brain) and I legged it out of there as fast as my wee legs could carry me…not before picking up a box of fish–fingers and a bag of sprouts for myself of course… I may not approve of this sort of thing in public, but it’s definitely the sort of hoot I want to carry out at home!

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