MPs’ tawdry flings with so-called journalists drag the Houses of Parliament into the gutter
Sun columnist says it takes three to tango and points the finger at SNP politicians Angus MacNeil and Stewart Hosie
YOU really have to wonder what is pumped into the air wafting through those narrow corridors in Westminster that makes so many MPs and hangers-on lose track of their moral compass.
The heady whiff of power appears to transform the most mundane and ordinary chap into a cross between George Clooney and Tom Hiddleston.
In reality our male MPs are generally plump, pallid dullards with dodgy haircuts, wearing cheap, shiny-ar*ed suits.
They are hardly the answer to a maiden’s prayer. But a proliferation of sex scandals is in danger of turning the once well-regarded House of Commons into a torrid dating agency.
Just this week there was the tale of two married SNP MPs allegedly having flings with the same woman.
Inevitably, so-called political journalist Serena Cowdy has been described as “a leggy blonde” and a “temptress”, but let’s have a look at who is really at fault here.
Miss Cowdy is a single woman. She obviously knew both her lovers were married and so isn’t a fully paid-up member of the sisterhood, but it takes two (or in this case three) to tango.
She apparently had the first affair with Angus MacNeil, MP for the Western Isles.
We are led to believe that when this relationship ended, she turned her attention to Dundee East MP Stewart Hosie and that the two of them are now “madly in love”.
The devil is in the detail and much to the humiliation of Mr Hosie, we have been informed that he likes to wear stiff, white Marks & Spencer Y-fronts.
Whether this is true or not, it will haunt him for the rest of his career — in the same way that buffoon David Mellor will be forever associated with claims he had sex in a Chelsea strip when he had his affair with Antonia de Sancha in 1992.
Frog-like Mellor really does prove the theory that anyone in politics can find some poor, deluded soul to sleep with them.
Even Dull as Dully McDull John Major had a fling — albeit with Edwina Currie — but it shows that power is indeed a formidable aphrodisiac. But while we chortle at the antics of those who are supposed to be our betters, we should remember the innocent people caught in the crossfire.
They are the wives and children of all these philanderers who have their private lives thrust into the spotlight.
Stewart Hosie’s wife Shona Robison is a member of the Scottish Parliament representing Dundee City East, the same constituency as her estranged husband.
The couple announced they were separating just before the scandal broke this week and she must be going through hell. It won’t be much fun for their young daughter either.
This week Scottish First Minister Nicola Sturgeon reappointed Shona as Health Minister in the Scottish Government reshuffle and gave her a supportive hug.
But Nicola must be fuming at her party in Westminster.
They were elected last year mainly because so many voters hoped for a clean, fresh approach to politics.
This scandal makes the party look tawdry. And worst of all, there are allegations that the MPs used our money to pay for their romps, with thousands of pounds of expenses claimed on bills.
This has been strenuously denied but there will inevitably be an enquiry — and whatever happens, mud sticks.
All human beings are flawed but these scandals make us even more distrusting of anyone entering public life.
It’s a real shame because there are many deeply committed and hardworking elected members who steadfastly try to make life better for the people they represent.
You do have to wonder whether Miss Cowdy would have looked twice at either MacNeil or Hosie if they were accountants or estate agents instead of MPs.
But it’s the sheer arrogance of all those men who stray that really takes your breath away. Do they honestly think they will never be caught and held to account?
The results are that once-happy families are shattered and careers lie in tatters.
Surely a fling, no matter how passionate, simply cannot be worth it.
Swedes on song as hosts
WATCHING Eurovision last weekend was like feasting on a smorgasbord of rich chocolate truffles dipped in mayonnaise – utterly bonkers but somehow strangely satisfying.
Our wee boys Joe and Jake deserved so much better than third from bottom in Stockholm, and the winning Ukrainian song might have had its heart in the right place, but it was a terrible old dirge.
Graham Norton gave a pitch-perfect commentary and a genuinely affectionate and moving tribute to the late, great Terry Wogan.
The hosts Mans Zelmerlow and Petra Mede were canny, witty and laugh-out-loud funny.
Bizarrely, all week I have been humming the Polish entry Colour Of Your Life by Michal Szpak. Annoyingly, I can’t get it out of my head – which is, of course, the sign of a proper Eurovision ditty, both wonderfully catchy and intensely irritating.
I love everything about Eurovision apart from the fact that even if we entered Adele singing a self-penned, heartfelt power ballad, we would still get our backsides whipped by a big bird earnestly caterwauling in broken English and wearing a Bedouin tent.
Patter of tiny Foote
THE utterly delightful Georgia May Foote was the star of my High Street Fashion Awards last week, looking as cute as a button in her peachy off-the-shoulder frock.
The tiny former Corrie star revealed that all the rehearsing and performing on Strictly Come Dancing shrank her petite feet from a teeny size 3 to an itsy-bitsy size 2 – and she says it’s now almost impossible to find grown-up footwear that fits.
Georgia was with her boyfriend and Strictly partner Giovanni Pernice and the two of them make a lovely couple – with lots more in common than just smooching and dancing.
I believe this one will stand the test of time and make a mockery of the so-called “Strictly curse”.
Babs’ ace send-off
TWO big fat bouquets to Dame Barbara Windsor for her masterclass in proper soap acting and to James Nesbitt, who gave a chilling performance in real-life drama The Secret.
We will miss our Peggy, but Babs gave her a send-off to remember and James has quietly evolved into one of our very best TV actors.
I’d love to see these two working together in a completely new TV thriller.
Watch and learn, wannabe thespians.
No Marx for golf Grouches
LEGENDARY comedian Groucho Marx famously said he would never join any club that accepted him as a member.
The late funnyman would have happily turned his back on Muirfield golf club in East Lothian, even though they would have welcomed him simply because he was a man.
Their decision this week to affirm a ban on women being members of their club has made them a laughing stock all over the world.
Even if these buffoons apologised now and overturned the decision, they’d still look incredibly silly. You wonder what they are afraid of.
Groucho would have had a field day making a mockery of their Neanderthal attitude.
—I WAS very entertained by Dame Helen Mirren when I caught up with her this week.
She not only revealed that she enjoys making her own clothes, but she also wants to create an outfit from black plastic bin liners stitched together that she can wear to sashay down the red carpet.
Being one of the most beautiful and elegant women on the planet, Dame Helen would carry off the whole look with total aplomb.
In the unlikely event that the film roles ever dry up, she would be a shoo-in for a role in Coronation Street’s knicker factory, Underworld.