Mrs Whitehouse, you were right…
I WAS channel-hopping when, with a press of the TV remote control, I came face-to-face (so to speak) with a line-up of bare bottoms.
The pink-tinged parade was accompanied by the voice of someone solemnly allocating points out of ten for each sit-upon.
It was when the contenders turned full frontal that, for some reason, I was reminded of that doughty old campaigner Mary Whitehouse. No physical link with what I’d just seen, of course…
She came to mind again as I recalled far
