The moon is a she unless it’s a he

It has been suggested that I and a colleague may have now become the Pete and Dud of our office. Tragically I have to admit that Doug probably makes a better Peter Cook than me, although that means he has to go through a couple of bitter divorces and spend his twilight years pretending to be a Swedish fisherman, while I have to develop a club foot and bed a succession of nubile young women. It’s a work in progress.

Anyway, the other day he was on top form. Somehow we were talking about languages which give nouns gender and he said that the moon is not always female – the closer to the equator you get the more likely the moon is to be male. I was amazed by this. “You could write a book about it” he said, generously offering me his idea, “one you get for Christmas with a fake old-style leather cover. Could even be a film. KENNETH BRANAGH is COPERNICUS!”.

Genius, up there with Andy’s “Robert Plant and the Seedlings” line. You read it here first. Hollywood here we come.

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