Sunday 12 September 2010

Wayne Boooooooooooney

Another day, another footballer accused of cheating on his missus...

This time it's the turn of Wayne Rooney, who has been punching well above his weight since he and Coleen first got together as schoolkids many moons ago.

Their relationship has already weathered the storm of his alleged brothel visits as a teenager and now two more hookers have felt it their duty to inform his wife of his dirty antics via the medium of the national newspapers. But hey, let's not judge them - they're genuinely sorry about it now.

A couple of things have struck me about this whole sorry saga, which I have listed below in the style of a tabloid.

  • One of the escorts brags that during their threesome with Wayne, she and her colleague  "WORE IDENTICAL black lacy bra-and-brief sets specially bought from La Senza." Classy. Now there's nothing wrong with La Senza but if I was paying someone £1,200 for their services I would expect at the very least Agent Provocateur.
  • Vice girl Jenny Thompson claims that Wayne was "shy and awkward - and me and my friend were left to do ALL THE WORK". Excuse me for pointing out the obvious, but isn't that what they were being paid for?
  • She also moans that "It was ALL OVER far too quickly." Errr, you're a prostitute love. Isn't that a good thing? Easy money, so to speak. Although, arguably, not as easy as the £100k Pooney earned last week when he didn't even play.
Now, we could sit here all night analysing why these sports players do it... Is it the power? Is it the money? (Is it the power and the money, the money and the power? Have they all just been listening to too much Coolio in the changing rooms?) But who really cares!? I do not get it. Why do people idolise them so much? Cheating, fighting, speeding...They're not even good at football any more!

But more importantly, why do so many girls aspire to be married to them? If it's just for the money, why do they keep taking them back when they could get divorced and take half?!

Before I put the subject of Rooney to bed (in the doghouse, where he belongs), here's a suspiciously familiar story from 2005 that has gone mysteriously unmentioned in recent weeks but that nonetheless I remembered... Coleen, ditch him!

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