NOTE FROM THE EDITOR: Our original plan for Terrence, as you can see in his "About Me" section, was for him to serve as the magazine's resident Agony Aunt. Unfortunately we have had bucketloads of feedback from readers claiming that Terrence "does not look trustworthy enough" and as such there has been a total lack of any written queries for Terrence to put his unique mind to. It's a shame, because I would trust Terrence with anything - looks can be deceiving, as can penchants to talk at length about sex dungeons.
As we did not want to remove Terrence from the magazine entirely, we have therefore given him free reign to do whatever he wants with his column space. He has reliably informed me that he will use the column to write a mixture of poetry and tales of his latest sexual escapades, perhaps at times in combination with each other. For his first column, he has written a poem about celebrity chefs. Over to Terrence.
This one goes out to all the great #cooks,
Who appear in TV shows and write their own books,
For too long these heroes have been overlooked,
In this poem I hope they find solace.
The first #cuisinier to appear in my ode,
Is Masterchef’s finest – the great John Torrode,
A man who looks marginally less like a #chode,
Than his baldy chum Gregory Wallace.
Next to appear is the luscious Nigella,
Who tickles the fancies of many a #fella,
She sensually eats entire jars of Nutella,
I hear that she’s constantly plastered.
And more sensual still is the great Ainsley Harriet,
Who rides around town in a great golden chariot,
If he made me a meal then I’d probably marry it,
The #hotspicymeat making bastard.
And who could forget the great Delia Smith,
Or that Gordon Ramsay – the man and the myth,
Or Heston Whatever who shall now forthwith,
Be known as #SirHestontheGreat!
Now all these great women and all these great men,
All these great heroes score #tenoutoften,
If you don’t agree with this sentiment then,
You’ll soon be served up on a plate.