When the tail wags

I have been moved this morning to call for your help for the poor wives and girlfriends of underprivileged footballers.

Apparently, they are locked away for hours in terrible conditions, with only the Gucci studded poodle for company, while their husbands and boyfriends indulge in all sorts of frolics with their friends wags.

Something must be done now.

As well as starting a tanning fund, I intend to write to my local M.P. (if I actually have one) and urge them to highlight the issue in the British lady Queen's Parliament of democracy.

Please give what you can.

I know the little local difficulty in Haiti has us all tired out with compassion, but I believe there are more important needs at this time.

Or maybe that's just my, er, um, dementia...