Vernon, o-Kay?

I know this is sick and unnatural, but I harbour lustful thoughts for Vernon Kay.



I know, I know. Believe me, no-one is more appalled than me.



It's just... that rolling Lancashire accent. It gets me every time.



And there's also something about that cheesy game-show host bonhomie...



So imagine my surprise and delight on stumbling across a small cache of small photos showing the object of my lust engaged in some sort of sporting event which, naturally, required him to remove his top:



Alas, that's the most of Vernon's fleshy goodness that we get to see:



But for those of you who are aroused by the sight of sweaty man-flesh, I have included a larger sample.



I know, my lust is utterly inexplicable. You don't have to tell me.



I'm just confessing to you, hoping to lighten my burden by doing so.



Think of this as a plea for understanding, for you to exercise your compassion.



And can I just say that images like this final one are well out-of-order:



Vernon is lovely. Let's just leave it at that.