So help me, Cat McKenzie, but I have a right mind to bate ya with a gate.

You “love” Sam Murray.  But do you?  Do you??

The dilemma: Sam or Frankie. Much like: strawberries or a plate of vomit. Or: jazz tootlings or Justin Beiber. (They do look similar, don’t they?) Or: a hot cop or a feckin’ feck-up.

Here’s some Lip Service from yours truly: Sort yerself out, woman! If you can’t see how fantastically fantastic Officer McDreamy is (and don’t forget, your words: “I’m too old to be dating fuck ups!”), then there’s just no helping you.

Let us compare and contrast:

Officer McDreamy:

• Sorted.

• Is really rather tall, actually.

• Doesn’t mind being called “a moose”.

• Can be brave.

• Copes well with stress.

• Has perspective. Helped by seeing corpses.

• Copes well with shirts. And trouser suits. And waistcoats.

• Doesn’t shag boys.

• Can be a bit scary. In a good way.

• Thoroughly attends to her “desk duties” whenever required.

Frankly Odd:

• Bananas.

• Mopes with unnecessary camera appendage.

• Is unable to not shag every woman she passes.

• Shags kleptomaniacs.

• Pouts.

• Shags in morgues next to corpses.

• Has hair that’s almost as bad as Shane McCutcheon’s. Or Justin Bieber’s.

• Shags boys.

• Lacks perspective. (Shagging next to corpses doesn’t seem to help.)

• Stirs shit.  At every possible opportunity.

• Might possibly not actually be Francesca Alan.

I think, therefore, we can scientifically conclude that Detective Sergeant Sam Murray is your only woman.

Oh and Cat, no thanks is needed. ‘Tis nay bother, hen.

• Lip Service on BBC3

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