Shag & Tell
IT’S been a year since Jordan and Peter Andre exchanged “I dos” and things have moved on.
The thousands of Swarvoski crystals that adorned Jordan’s 3m-wide dress have been turned into cats-eyes in a remote part of Surrey, fulfilling our wish that something godo would come of the wedding.
The dress has been sold to The Chinese State Circus and the towering cake has been turned into an office block in central Milton Keynes.
Now Jordan and Peter are on yacht, and keen to tell us about the past year, the “nitty gritty” of married life and what the future holds.
First up, Jordan wants us to know that she and Peter are retying for a baby. They are “trying any moment we are free” – something that may explain why Jordan and Pete seem to sharing a post-coitus hug on every page.
“I think we’ve missed my ovulation date this month,” says Jordan. “But we’ll tell you as soon as we can if I’m preggy! We haven’t hit the target yet! We will, though”.
That’s the spirit, Jordan. Chin up. Chest out. It might be like pushing an acorn through the eye of a needle, but the mystery of conception does work. Six billion people and any number of animal, goats and sheep can’t be wrong.
Not that Pete minds putting in the effort. “Before we were never 100 per cent careful, but we weren’t particularly trying. Now we are and I love it.”
How refreshing to know that after an entire year of marriage, Jordan and Pete are in love.
Such love doubtless forms part of Pete’s book. “I’ve been going into the studio with Kate,” says Pete, suggestively, “and writing my book. Excuse the pun but it means I’ve been able to close a chapter of my life and concentrate on my life now.”
No need to excuse the pun, Pete. It’s the kind of stuff we have come to expect.
Like looking at Jordan’s body. And up her dress. Not that she likes it. “People got a right eyeful, didn’t they?” says Jordan. “I feel sorry for those sick b***ards who took the pictures,” says she.
As Pete says: “The only difference between a paparazzo and a pervert is a camera.” Sure. And before Pete can enlighten to the differences between a paparazzo and a professional glamour photographer, Jordan wants to tell us what’s up Pete’s trousers.
Pete says he’s been “going commando” for the past two years. He wears no pants. Which to most men often means interesting stains. But Pete, gamely wearing white trousers, says: “My jeans are quite low as well, so you never know what’s going to pop out and say “hello!”.
A poo? A talking poo? Now that is talent. But Jordan sets her eyes to the front. “Believe me,” says she, “if they saw Pete’s tackle out that would cause talk about how big his conga is!”
As big as an Australian brown snake..?
Posted: 5th, October 2006 | In: Reviews Comment | TrackBack | Permalink
