Now I'm about to commit an awful crime, so go easy on me here. Like everyone else I have a dirty secret television viewing pleasure. I would love people to believe it was something as mentally stimulating as watching 'Wonders of Life' to drool over Brian Cox, like every other woman I know (at least there's a chance of intelligence facts seeping in).
My secret pleasure is so much worse, akin to eating raw sugar rather than a sugar styled treat, and far more soppy and emotionally needy than I should be comfortable admitting. Don't Tell The Bride. There I said it. Forever committed to the endless memory that is the internet, and the humiliation of any who follow me.