Finding a corrupt politician today is like shooting fish in the proverbial barrel. The expenses 'scandal' (I'll continue to put it in inverted commas because it's not a scandal in the slightest - it's more of a 'piss-take') is the latest example of people in positions of power using their heightened status and connections to feather their next in exactly the same way any right-minded human being would do in the same situation.
The latest example of someone using their power for naughtiness is of course 60-year-old superminx Iris Robinson.
For those of you stuck between the pages of Heat magazine, Mrs. Robinson (a delicious irony) was a politician and is the wife of the Northern Ireland's first minister Peter, to whom she's been married for nearly 40 years.
A couple of weeks ago, a story broke when he popped up on the news looking all sad, saying that she'd been having an affair but that he'd forgiven her (why?) and would be working on patching up his marriage forthwith. A few people went 'Crikey'. I went 'Meh' because political affairs aren't exactly new are they? ARE THEY?
Anyway, the story became juicier when it transpired that the third wheel in this marriage was a 19-year-old lad, who she'd apparently known since he was nine and, when his father died, vowed to look after him. She's a woman of her word, that's for sure. Into the bargain, she got her hands on 50 large to help him start a catering business, and not to put too fine a point on it, the shit hit the PR fan. Big time.
We've had all manner of developments since then; she's apparently gone mad and is having 'acute psychological treatment', poor old Pete's had to step down from his post to clear his name (apparently he knew all about the cafe money and is trying to prove otherwise) and understandably she's given the old politicianing lark the elbow. Every day there seems to be a new revelation about her, as it becomes more and more clearly that she hasn't exactly been honest with her hubby and the general public in recent times.
Now, when I was a younger man, the thought of a glamorous older woman seducing me was quality. I can't speak for all of my friends, but if some 40+ young-at-heart cougar with the majority of her own teeth and/or hair wanted to educate me in the art of the woman then that would've been AOK by me. Furthermore, if she was prepared to chuck £50k into the bargain to help me start a company then quite frankly, we're talking happy days.
Alas, a combination of a side-parting and my Mum's mates being minging put paid to that idea. If I was to be a toy boy these days, I'd have to have a cemetery on speed dial, just in case.
In conclusion, if your own Mrs. Robinson straddles a movie camera and tries to seduce you, help yourself. However, it might be worth making sure she’s not married to the most powerful man in the country first. And if she offers you money but asks you if you want to ‘make a deposit’, suspect the worst.
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