Are you in a mixed-attractiveness relationship?

MILLIONS of Britons are in mixed-attractiveness relationships. Take our test to find out if you are too.

Mixed-attractiveness relationships (MARs) are the easiest way for good-looking people to live in a large fancy house, or for a balding homunculus to marry a supermodel. But they’re not just for the rich and famous. You could already be in a mixed attractiveness relationship, but you just haven’t realised.

Are you in a mixed-attractiveness relationship?

1. How would you describe your partner?

A. Very good-looking but also kind of vacant and possibly capable of murder.

B. Hairy hands, moobs like an orangutan and a lot of really bad jeans.

2. Where are you reading this?

A. On an email forwarded by the self-interested, money-obsessed children from your first marriage.

B. On a yacht while your partner is shouting into a Bluetooth earpiece about net profit percentages.

3. When your partner tries to initiate love-making, do you…

A. …check under the bed for a possible murder weapon.

B. …subtly try to avoid physical contact, for example by moving to Mauritius.

4. Are you Piers Morgan, Jeremy Clarkson or Rod Stewart? 

A. Yes.

B. I’m not sure, there’s a lot of stuff that I’ve blanked out.

Mostly A’s – You may have lost the genetic lottery, but you’ve won the actual lottery or got a lot of money by some other means. Either that or you’ve just got a really great personality, because your partner is way hotter than you.

Mostly B’s – Congratulations on being the attractive half of a MAR. Now you can have fun spotting other beauty-beast combos while muttering ‘oh my god, he/she must be fucking minted’. 

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Why I did that shite Marks and Spencer advert, by Paddington

By Paddington Bear

I KNOW a lot of people think I am a furry whore, but believe me I had my reasons.

Obviously I would rather be the beloved marmalade-muncher of your childhood than a corporate shill for a big shop that apparently sells things other than pants and sandwiches, but the fact is I’ve got three cubs now. Two are at private school which costs a fortune, although thankfully the less academic one just lives in a forest foraging for grubs and berries.

I guess I should probably just take the family to Canada and live off the contents of dustbins, I expect we’d be happier but the truth is I’ve gotten addicted to wearing coats and have gradually upgraded from Tesco Value marmalade to the Duchy Original thick cut Seville orange variety, and that shit does not come cheap. So when Marks & Spencer came knocking, it was time to lube up and take one for the team.

While filming the advert I actually tried to escape the set, but they shot me with a tranquiliser dart and dragged me back. Legally you can do that to bears. The script didn’t make sense to me – basically a burglar lets me make him return a load of stolen stuff, when he could just have told me to piss off – but we got through it. Financially speaking, it was do the advert or get my glands drained for a Chinese impotence cure, and this was the marginally better option.

I’m a bear with an ageing fan base who needs to get his family through the next hibernation period. Also, there’s some stuff I did earlier in my career that might resurface to haunt me. I realise now that it is never acceptable to eat hikers, but in the 70s everyone was at it. What can I say? I was young and a carnivore, don’t judge me.