As someone who was raised as an Irish Catholic I obviously have an extremely healthy attitude towards sex. It is shameful, sinful, morally depraved (well, when you're doing it right it is) and is, obviously, something that should never, ever be discussed for any reason other than to give a priest his jollies when you're in the confessional.
So, on that basis, you can only imagine my reaction when I read an interview with Sting the other day.
Sting gets a hard time from the press and, in fairness, he brings it on himself. After all, who among us didn't want to fly down to the Amazon and burn a bit of it just to spite him when he was on that ridiculous rainforest crusade?
But really, it's his appallingly open views on sex — or ‘horrid beastliness' as Harry Enfield rightly calls it — that make him such an object of derision.
And he's at it again.
Speaking to Harper's Bazaar, he spoke of his marriage to Trudie Styler and in a classic case of TMI, he boasted: “When we see each other, it's romance. I don't think pedestrian sex is very interesting.
“There's a playfulness we have; I like the theatre of sex. I like to look good. I like her to dress up. I like to dress her up.”
Jesus Christ man, enough with terrifying imagery.
Honestly, there are times when you just wish he would go off and make music that nobody listens to rather than putting that sort of image into our heads.
I'd almost apologise for writing this but if I have to walk around for the rest of the day with the thoughts of Sting dressing his missus up in some sort of weird costume and then having seven hours of tedious tantric sex then I fail to see why I shouldn't make you feel at least as nauseous.
Don't hate me for it.
The Irish have a history of travelling. Whether it's through forced emigration or the simple sense of wanting to go abroad and have fun, we do tend to be quite a well-travelled people.
And while I love to get out of this kip and head for sunnier climes at every available opportunity, the one place I have never been to and never intend going to is Australia.
Don't get me wrong, I like most Aussies I've met, l love their TV shows and movies and I genuinely adore the brutally frank nature of their politics.
But I'm terrified of things that might kill you.
I've heard horror stories of red back and funnel web spiders biting people on the arse — and worse — when they go to loo. I've had my blood curdled by tales from returning friends of walking into the garden and being confronted by snakes, poisonous frogs and all sorts of critters that, even if they don't kill you, will make sure you never sleep safely ever again.
And then there's the sharks.
Now, I love sharks. After dogs they are my favourite creatures in the whole world.
And when you consider that it is estimated there are now more lions in jungles than there are Great Whites in the sea, it's hard not to just start crying at the possibility that they could be extinct in our life time. But that doesn't mean you want to get too close to them.
So you can imagine the reaction of one man currently enduring the Brisbane flooding.
Sitting on the top of his roof to escape the water, he has seen crocodiles, water snakes and spiders floating by and then, he says: “A big bull shark came by. We normally have them in the river but because the river has burst they're coming over here looking for food.”
Jesus — you know you're in trouble when you can't go out into your front yard because there're bloody sharks roaming the place.
And Irish postmen think they have it bad because they have to worry about dogs?
You may have noticed, but the Germans tend to be fond of strict orders and discipline.
In fact, they have a bit of a history of telling people what to do.
But the latest edict from Germany is probably the worst thing that the Germans have ever, ever done (are you sure you want to say that? — ed).
German bosses have now issued a rule that states that all female workers must wear a bra when they're in the workplace.
Some German women have complained that this breaches their rights and are furious.
But, when you think about it, it's not a bad idea for the rest of us lads. Indeed, I wrote a memo to the boss yesterday suggesting that we bring in a similar rule about women in the office.
And, in a spirit of civic duty, I've even offered to be the guy who does the pat down inspections every morning just to ensure that the little ladies are complying.
He hasn't got back to me yet. Funny that.
How do you get on with your neighbours?
Some people meet their neighbours and become firm friends; some people you just ignore and, in the worst case scenario, you become embroiled in a longrunning feud that involves violence and death threats. Well, that's been my experience.
But I bet you never had neighbour training a mynah bird to insult you every time you passed their house.
That was the case of one Taiwanese man who has unsuccesfully tried to sue his neighbours for emotional distress.
Following a row with his next-door neighbour, they trained the bird to say “You clueless bigmouthed idiot” whenever the bird saw him
Honestly, you know you're having a bad day when even a bloody mynah bird is ripping the piss out of you.
Often overlooked because of the likes of Goodfellas, there's still no denying that Casino (1995) is a quality film. De Niro and Pesci reunite as mobsters who go to the promised land that is Las Vegas and make a killing. But greed, drugs and stupidity soon take their toll.
Sharon Stone proves she can actually act as de Niro's coke addict wife and James Woods is typically brilliant as a truly reptilian chancer.
Pesci's inevitable demise, however, may be too strong for some people to stomach.
Sample quote: “Listen to me Anthony. I got your head in a fu*kin' vise. I'll squash your head like a fu*kin' grapefruit if you don't give me a name. Don't make me have to do this, please. Don't make me be a bad guy, come on.”