In praise of bisexuality

I’ve never seen a National Treasure whose head I didn’t have a strong urge to shove down the nearest toilet. So when I read that Christopher Biggins had entered the latest Celebrity Big Brother house for a rumoured £150,000 – far, far less than what I was offered, to put it mildly – I fair hugged myself with glee at how cheap they’d got him. I had every reason to dislike him already; many years ago, when I was showing off about what I’d be like if I was a gay man – ‘Rupert Everett, probably, or Oscar Wilde, or Arthur Rimbaud’ – my husband fixed me with a cold glare (for he dislikes bragging, which often makes me wonder why he married me) and said ‘No – you’d be like Christopher Biggins.’ I never really forgave the rotter for that.

Pretty soon Biggins had told a ‘joke’ about the Jews which was so vile that it left a Jewish housemate in tears.