Of course, being in the heart of rural England means that we here at Little Frigging do not have all that much call for deep-sea perversions, at least during the normal run of events. Such things as multi-porpoise lubricants, codpieces and squid restraints are not often discussed, even during the late night sessions down at The Pervert’s Appendage. That is, except when Old Feebletrousers brings his brother down to the pub for a swift half*. Old Feebletrouser’s brother, Expunge (or, Even Older Feebletrousers) ran away to sea when he was a lad of sixteen, after a rather unfortunate incident involving the vicar’s vestments and a young campanologist in the church bell tower one April afternoon in the early 1960s.
On his occasional visits back to the village - now the fuss about that incident has almost died down - Even Older Feebletrousers, now a retired sea captain, regales us with tales from his voyages to all the countries of the world (and Canada). Telling us, his rapt audience, of all the various perversions he has heard about, taken part in, and – on several occasions - made up on the spur of the moment when persuaded to take the third half* before closing time is ignored.
I must admit that I, for one, was highly sceptical about his tale of the mermaid, the angle-poise lamp and the bowl of cornflakes, at least until he produced the photographs. Even after that, Grand Old Uncle Stagnant still insists that it would be difficult – if not impossible – to perform such an act without – at least – a brace of suitably-lubricated sea scouts and a pickled onion.