The Use Of The Perversion Hat

Of course, these days the use of the perversion hat is almost de-rigour in polite society. This can be seen at certain high society functions such as Ascot, etc where the formal use of the hat is retained, seemingly these days for little more than comic effect, with little apparent knowledge or awareness of the long splendid - and often quite moist - use of the hat in the history of perversion.

The Greeks were the first major western civilisation to use hats in a recognisably perverted way. In fact, at their so-called symposiums where attendees dressed as famous philosophers whilst buttering their sex weasels in readiness for the afternoon orgies that were a commonplace in high Greek society, it was considered vital to always sport the correct headgear, especially whilst ‘philosophising’ with a olive-oil coated assistant librarian, or two.

Later, of course the Romans made much use of the helmet. It was – in fact – a criminal offence in Rome for a man to attend an early evening orgy without first buffing up his helmet beforehand.

I think it is safe to assume that everyone is more than familiar with Vikings and how horny they were with their helmets.

Therefore in - the soon to come* - part two of this essay we can move on to the medieval period and the first real recorded uses of the wimple by lady attendees at village orgies, especially during he Plantagenet era.

 

*When** I can be arsed.

**Or – indeed – if.

Maureen’s Problem Page

Today we bring you a Brand New Regular* Feature:

Maureen’s Problem Page

(where Maureen Trouser-Quandary brings her many years of experience in the field** of rural perversions to bear in order to help those who have problems of a more intimate nature that would benefit from a full and frank airing in the gaze of the general public (or at least the one(s) that turns up here for a gawk.)

Anyway, without any further ado, here is the first such problem.

A Miss Nobgobbler of Ludlow writes:

Dear Maureen, no matter what I do – even adopting the famous Crouching Stockbroker Hidden Washing Mangle stance – it seems I can keep no chicken intrigued for more than a few seconds, even when totally naked.

Maureen replies:

Well, as you well know the ancient art of Chicken intriguing is much more difficult than the greats – such as Nasturtium Cheeseincident - make it seem. I think Miss Nobgobbler you are going to just have to face facts and accept that you are just bloody rubbish at it.

So, I suggest you just pull yourself together, stop your whining and get yourself a proper job that doesn’t involve subjecting all and sundry to the dubious pleasures of your naked form.

Hope this helps.

Love

Maureen Trouser-Quandary

Readers (either of you) of this… er… whatever it is are free to submit any… er… difficulties or problems they may be experiencing in the comments section of this blog for Maureen to disdain to answer (and the rest of us to snigger over), if they so wish.

*Regular in this sense means more or less when I can be arsed to get around to contemplating it.

**If wet, in the barn.

The Fully Perverted Lifestyle

Anyway, as it happens I just have to recalibrate this goat and I will be right with you. That is the trouble with these new metric goats, they have a habit of coming out of true just as you get the stock broker into the custard and the cake shop manageress poised with the ladle. However, I don’t need to tell you that, do I? As a frequenter of this… this… whatever it is, I am sure you are quite familiar with the vicissitudes of leading a fully perverted lifestyle and the dangers of over-indulgence in sprouts.

Right, onward. I’m sure you haven’t come all the way here from over in the more interesting blogs featuring in-depth photographic studies of underdressed young ladies entertaining their special friends, just to hear me moan, have you?

Although, having said that, the main function of blogs does seem to be mainly concerned with its author moaning about all and sundry to an audience seemingly eager, or – more likely – only slightly interested, to hear the author wants to get off his and/or her chest*.

No, you are here to study, to learn, to understand, the finer points of advanced perversion and to take whatever tips I can give you in regard to the more complex lessons in both theoretical and practical orgiastics and the various stances best adopted to enjoy full participation in the aforesaid.

‘Tis a pity that today I don’t seem to have any time for any of that.

So, now, if you will excuse me I must get back to that goat before the oil dries on the sub-postmistress.

 

*this seems especially true of those particular blogs that show young ladies getting items of clothing off their chests in an oft-beguiling manner.

Theoretical Orgiastics

Well now, and/or then – depending upon your preferred stance and orgy leggings, of course. It has come to my attention that some of you (both) gathered here on this fine… reasonable… well, frankly god-awful day are not that conversant with the latest in Theoretical Orgiastics or even have a firm enough grasp of the philosophical underpinnings of modern-day perverted practices.

Ah, you may argue, isn’t it better to have the hands-on practical experience out on the orgy field or perversion pitch, rather than have a head filled with the latest theories, ideas and notions. Without ever having laid a sex spatula on a recumbent sub-postmistress, you may say, all the theory in the world –no matter how perverse – is of little consequence.

You could – of course – be right. However… there are times when a little theory can prove invaluable. I only have time for one example, so let me just mention Renee Descartes famous dictum: I wear a leather perversion grommeting belt, therefore I am a sexual deviant. I believe I can’t say fairer than that, and a person of your wit, erudition and perverse know-how will not – I believe – need for me to say any more, which is a good thing as there is an assistant librarian in the village library awaiting me and my exotic badger unguents at this very moment.

So, I will, perforce, have to bid you good day.

The Erotic Use Of Cardigans

The cheese-based perversions usually undertaken as the nights draw in when winter approaches, usually have the advantage that they can be undertaken whilst wearing a cardigan, or for the more sexually-adventurous, a pair of mittens and a scarf.

It is always advisable to approach certain of the more… er… robust cheeses, such as Stilton or Gorgonzola wearing at least a pair of gloves anyway. In the case of Roquefort, it goes without saying that one should always – ideally – be wearing a hat, especially if one is about to place it anywhere near the erogenous zones of a post mistress as she becomes aroused by the carefully selected photographs of Val Doonican placed around the boudoir.

Now, as you well know, the cheese should be placed just to the left of the trainee supermarket manager. This is especially important if one is bowling from the northern end of the perversion pitch (always, of course, providing your team has won the toss-off and has elected to field for the first six rounds of the 12 overs of the first quarter of the second half).

You should then have no trouble in getting the librarian, or her assistant, to wear the necessary cardigans that make the use of the Double Gloucester such an enticing prospect at this time of the year, ensuring a warming glow right down to the very ends of your pickled onions.

Watching Paint Dry

[The Friday Special -

A Guest Post By Grand Old Uncle Stagnant]

If you were to grease the underside leading edge of any vicar, or related ecumenically-inclined person of similar standing, with a strong oil-based greasing agent, before introducing him – or her – to your chicken flock then – indeed, and to my mind, quite rightly – questions would be asked in parliament.

Whether or not those would be interesting, or – indeed – relevant questions is a mater for another day and a more robust set of underpants than the ones I currently reside in. But, be that as it may, and – for the sake of argument – we may as well grant such a set of circumstances, I see from the way you are fondling your per aardvark, it is the day for applying a fresh coat of paint to your fetish tandem.

No wonder you have arrived here with such alacrity, naked except for your bejewelled perversion cape and cycling clips, for it is not often that one gets the chance – especially with today’s hectic lifestyles – to settle down in a nice comfy chair (with the small mammal of one’s choice) to watch paint dry.

This Interwebnet Thingy

Now, here we are again. This is beginning to become a bit of a habit, isn't it? It makes you wonder what people did when they had lives, instead of the internet*. Not to worry though, it will not be that long until we all have the internet wired directly into our brains and then we can give up all this tiresome business of having to lug our big superfluous bodies to and from the computer.

Anyway, all that is far into the future, unlikely to happen for the next two or three weeks at least, which still leaves us with plenty of sandwiches to make. It also gives us time to do many of the ruder and – hopefully – moister things we have always wanted to do with our bodies, that is while we still have them.

So, if you have always wanted to smear your naked body with low fat cream cheese spread and then go out and rub yourself all over a traffic warden, now is the time to do it. If you have ever felt an almost uncontrollable need to engage in religious dialogue with a semi-naked Jehovah's Pervert who is buttering scones and half-watching the shopping channel on TV while you encase yourself in a human-sized jelly mould filled with cold baked beans, then perhaps now is the time to begin making the arrangements.

Well, perhaps not quite yet, as you still have a handful of links to click on, or a few RSS feeds left unread, and there is that email you ought to answer, Twitter is tweeting merrily away and MyArseYourFaceBookSpace is clambering for you to engage in some inane little ritual of pseudo-communication with someone you claim to share a friendship with, and…

Hang on, something just beeped at me… must reply now….

 

*But only briefly, there are so many links these days and just too little time.