I'd love to know if Paul McMullen has ever sniffed cocaine off the buttocks of a prostitute, of if he retires to his wardrobe armed with a bottle of baby lotion, an Action Man dressed in French Legionnaire uniform and the skin of a recently dead poodle.
This fucking unelected, unaccountable, journalist set himself up to be the arbiter of taste and decency. What a dribbling troglodyte hypocrite.