Tits tits tits

I've known Victoria Coren for years. When I say I've 'known' her, what I mean by that is I don't know her at all, I've just seen her on telly a lot these past ten years or so and read her book. But I've known many women like her in the real life I had before I became a recluse and only went outside when I needed a sandwich.

She's a fairly bog standard ugly duckling sort of story. An absolutely wretched looking package as a student who became a sort slutty swan later in life. Women who make this transformation often develop an insatiable lust for cock and a sexual appetite that rivals the one they once had for cake and chocolate.

As a student she'll have only be a last option. Like the spotty weedy kid who desperately wants to play football but always got picked last, Victoria Coren would have been the fat girl in the corner of the pub with a perfectly fuckable pouch under her gut, but who was only ever approached at chucking out time by blokes who had no joy with the nice looking girls.

Now though she enjoys an unfettered celebration of all things cock. Yet there is still the same vulnerability within her that would reduce the student Vicky to tears if she returned home on a Friday night without her breasts soaked in the ejaculated spunk of five or six members of the Bullingdon Club.

This I think can be the only reason she has been prattling on about Michael Winner all week. It's simply a thinly veiled opportunity to get people talking about her tits now that she's proud of them.

Someone who wasn't desperate for people to see them as attractive cockophiles wouldn't have even responded to the first Winner tweet.

Victoria however has made people who don't even know what Twitter is, aware that her tits are being openly discussed there. People who will now google pictures of her to look at her tits.

Job done Vicky, although at what price? For the first time ever Michael Winner has some how claimed the moral high ground.