Jack and Rose of Titanic, and other cinematic couples who wouldn't have stayed together

SHE liked diamonds and Picasso paintings. He slept under bridges and sketched caricatures for cash. It was a holiday romance with an unfortunate iceberg, and these wouldn’t last either: 

Rose and Jack, Titanic (1997)

Rose would’ve banged anyone on that boat. But if she hadn’t hogged the door, New York would have been a rude awakening. He’d get nothing fencing the jewel, she’s got no skills other than ballet, they’d be living in a slum tenement in Hell’s Kitchen while he sold sketches door-to-door. Note how she married into wealth after Jack. He was a fling.

Sam and Annie, Sleepless in Seattle (1993)

You know who gets obsessed with a man after hearing him on the radio once, travelling to his home city and watching his house? A stalker. They have a perfect night together and the next morning she matter-of-factly mentions the messages Mossad sends her through her fillings. Turns out she’s known to the authorities. Too late for Sam.

Kathleen and Joe, You’ve Got Mail, (1998) 

Another Hanks-Ryan pairing but this time he’s the sociopath. He discovers she’s who he’s been corresponding with, destroys the business she inherited from her beloved mother, puts her out of work, then aggressively moves in on her life. It’s a bad relationship with a happy ending when she kills him with a pair of scissors.

Danny and Sandy, Grease, 1978

Learning that if you become a hot, smoking slut you’ll become socially acceptable to a man is a poor basis for love. Also cars can’t fly. And however happy they were aged 18, eventually Sandy would demand to move back to Brisbane because no Australian girl can resist the siren call of sun-baked suburban boredom.

Carrie and Charles, Four Weddings and a Funeral (1994)

They’ve only met six times, including her wedding, his wedding and a funeral. She cheated on her elderly fiancé and ditched Charles after every shag which suggests repeated disappointments. Sooner or later he’ll realise Kristin Scott Thomas is that special posh kind of dirty.

Lloyd and Diane, Say Anything… (1989)

Standing outside a woman’s bedroom blasting the song that played while you f**ked is usually the basis of a court case, not a lasting relationship. By the end Lloyd is accompanying studious Diane to England. Theirs is a future of resentment, drizzle and sharing Tesco meals for two in student accommodation. Nothing survives that.

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How Labour will inevitably ruin its summer of sex

THE government wants the whole of Britain to enjoy a summer of sex because an MP is bringing dildos to Parliament. They will under-deliver on this erotic promise: 

Porn will remain inaccessible

Age verification means anyone unwilling to hand photos of their horny faces over to shady bastards can no longer see the hard stuff and are quickly forgetting which hole does what. Pressing the big red ‘Porn ON’ button in Downing Street would open the floodgates, lifting the nation’s spirits and libidos instantly, but they’re too afraid to be popular.

It will be tediously educational

You don’t begin a bacchanalian orgy with the member for South Derbyshire holding up a butt plug in front of the Speaker, so this won’t be one. Instead, it will take a dreary, academic approach with a focus on education and self love. Noble intentions, but tragically unsexy. What’s wrong with Badenoch pegging Starmer over a table? Simple and classic.

Rachel Reeves’s daily briefings will be unsexy

Any government initiative means frequent updates, so we’ll be kept abreast of the state of national sexiness by the chancellor. The chemistry, laughter and spontaneity good sex requires will be absent from her punishingly numeric reports on the number of semis achieved in the Midlands. Cocks will wilt, vaginas dry and the bond market become skittish.

It’ll get downscaled like HS2

Just like HS2, the summer of sex is an exciting prospect sure to be mired in red tape and financial shortfalls. Gradually it will be downgraded to a July of sex, before being further restricted to a weekend of tit-flashing that only Londoners will be able to experience in 2046. Nonetheless, it will cost the nation eight billion pounds.

Lord Mandelson will be in charge

Women love a bad boy and Mandelson always comes back. Inevitably, given his ties with sexy sex-trafficker Jeffrey Epstein, he’ll lube his way into the top role. Unless Starmer can handle the scandalous revelation with his usual smooth aplomb, the summer of sex will be entirely shagless and end up with a third of the nation being forcibly made eunuchs.