Who'd want to dine out on Saatchi?
Human beings: what are you like, eh? I don't want to discuss the divorce of telly chef Nigella Lawson and her husband Charles Saatchi.
It's none of my business. I note only that Miss Lawson ended the marriage because of Mr Saatchi's "unreasonable behaviour".
Top experts believe this refers to his egg-based diet and concomitant problems with strong north-westerlies blowing from his upper trouser area, as they say in legal circles.
I want to say I feel sorry for him but I don't. However, I will say it's a shame that, in his photographs, he looks like a pantomime villain. This is a man who made his fortune in image presentation too. The odd angle is that Scott's, the posh restaurant where all their problems began, has been inundated with requests from punters to book the same table at which Mr S controversially pulled his wife's nose.
Hell's molars, why would anyone want to sit in such a seat? What kind of vicarious thrill does one get from that?
And look what it costs. Scott's doesn't seem to sell much beyond monkfish, the piscine cheeks of which will set you back 13 quid for a starter.
Mind you, that comes accompanied with snails and bacon. No wonder Charlie sticks to eggs, even at the cost of his marriage.