Friday, October 30, 2009

Little Frigging Halloween Events


Now, as those of you already in your Halloween fetish gear – and can the witches be careful were they prod their brooms unless suitable lubrication has been pre-applied – let us go about the annual Little Frigging Halloween late evening Fully-consensual Adult Trick-or-Tupping walk around the village.

Some of you may be more than a little familiar – or even have a little familiar you enjoy stroking on a late autumn evening by the fireside – with the somewhat Bowdlerised version of Trick or Tupping undertaken by children in other places in the UK and, of course, out in the Colonies.

The children’s version is - obviously – called trick or treat. This is where the householder forced to answer the door to a gaggle of chocolate-besmeared and E-number hyper-activated young hooligans demanding chocolate with menaces whilst wearing one of their mother’s best bed sheets with one and a half unaligned eyeholes poked into it. This, you will be more than glad to hear, has little or nothing to do with the much older traditional rural celebration of things bumping in the night that is Trick-or-Tupping.

Trick-or-Tupping dates back even beyond the very early days of Cliff Richard when rural England was a much more eerie place at night. A time and place where many a young maiden would be sore a-feared to step out at night in case she was ravished by ghosts or had a pair of goolies dangling spookily in front of her face as she made her way along the thoroughfare.

Anyway, on All-Hallows Eve, if a denizen of Little Frigging answers a knock on their door to find a brace or more of suitably be-fetish geared persons demanding a dam good tupping, if the householder can provide the tupping harnesses, then he or she is in for a splendid evening’s entertainment, otherwise the householder will have to pay some kind of forfeit.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

The Use Of Punts

Here we all stand, resplendent in our bejewelled orgy capes and waders, ready for the another orgy out here on the village green. Of course, as this is a typical English day, the rain is falling with that determined intensity that some have taken as conclusive proof that the weather deities are no fans of outdoor sports.

Hence the waders.

Although, personally I have suggested in previous years when the duck pond has overflowed out onto the village green, and the river Teeb has burst its banks, that we should consider the use of punts.

Although, when I did mention the use of punts at the last village council, Colonel Fitz-Tightly did take some indignant offence until he was reassured that I wasn’t denigrating him and the rest of the council. However, it was not until new batteries were put into his hearing aid that I was confident he had got the gist of my remarks.

I do believe that now we have the University, providing the cows don’t want their shed back, a punting tradition would go down well and look very photogenic in the University Annual Prospectus. We could perhaps even introduce a short course on punt-based perversions, especially the always tricky problem of how the gentleman should best handle his pole for the delectation of the ladies present in the punt, who are – no doubt – eager to take a hold of his pole themselves.

In fact, when I suggested, just before last orders in the snug of The Pervert’s Appendage that most of the men of Little Frigging would enjoy a satisfying poling of the ladies in their punts, not a single one of those gathered there attempted to gainsay my contention.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

The Philosophy Of Applied And Extremely Moist Perversions


Trellising Spamblocker is not – as yet – a name on everyone’s lips, but surely that can only be a matter of time. As cognoscenti of the perverted arts, the erstwhile reader of this… this… whatever it is should well know that Spamblocker is the world’s leading Philosopher of Applied and Theoretical Extremely Moist Perversions. Currently emeritus Professor of Naughty Doings at Oxwich University, Spamblocker is probably best known for her almost definitive work of the Philosophy of Perversions: The Joy Of Sheep.

Not since Wittgenstein’s now infamous quote, ‘That of which we cannot speak we must draw detailed and numbered diagrams for the discerning connoisseur’ has there been such a thorough investigator of the philosophy of moist and naughty doings as the work of Professor Spamblocker. It was Spamblocker who first put perversion and other naughty doings at the centre of Post-Post-Modernist thought with her contention that ‘being rude is the very essence of what it is to be human, and – therefore – to be extremely naughty is to become an even more fuller and well-rounded person.’

However, Spamblocker is not only an accomplished theoretical pervert, she with the assistant of both Blue and Green shifts of the Gower volunteer fire service – with occasional assistance from her local amateur rugby team too has become the world’s leading expert on applied perversions too. For not only have her books become the best selling philosophy books of the decade, the DVDs of her work with the firemen, the rugby players and the local regimental goat have all topped the charts too.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Perversion And Accountancy


Be-marmaladed and naked as you may be, it doesn’t alter the fact that your tax return will soon be due. Thenceforth you must declare any surplus year-end un-mollified badgers and semi-intrigued chickens on or about your person at the standard rate of 17.23478% or suffer a fine of up to 34.8% of the total cash value of this year’s South Herefordshire carrot harvest.

Straightforward enough, you must agree. But surprisingly enough there are those who find even such straightforward calculations beyond them, and some – unlikely as it must sound – who know very few national and EU tax and accounting directives off by heart.

Therefore, it is for such people that a completely new branch of accountancy has grown up over recent years to deal especially with accountancy and tax laws as they relate to the perverted arts and practices.

However, for those proficient in self-assessment, and there can’t be that many upstanding deviants who haven’t engaged in a little self-assessment now and then – if only to while away an hour or two between village hall orgies – then there is little new or novel in this year’s self-assessment form. That is, except – of course – for the requirement of a full frontal naked photograph of you and a consenting stoat engaged in an intimate act utilizing a packet of pork scratchings and a member of the clergy (fully-buttered, of course).

Monday, October 26, 2009

Transgressions Of The Social Norms


There are times when disciplinary measures do have to be taken against certain denizens of Little Frigging who have – in some way - transgressed the social Norms, or who have not behaved in the fully upstanding way one would expect of one’s friends and acquaintances.

Now, for serious transgressions of the law we – in Little Frigging – can always count on our village policeman PC Ghonnemadd to find his way to the scene of the crime, usually just after last orders has been call at The Pervert’s Appendage. However, for any transgressions of the social norms, and both the Norms are very social indeed, especially at the village orgies, and their transgressions are always very tasteful, Little Norm, for example, always looks very fetching in a flowery summer dress, stockings and high heels, although the full-length gnomish bead does tend to slightly spoil the effect to my mind.

Anyway, as I was saying, we in the village have evolved our own methods of dealing with those who cross the line. For up on the hill, just past the traditional rural Indian takeaway, there is a large gloomy house, which – were this to be fiction – would be regarded as the stereotypical haunted house.

However, here in Little Frigging, that house is home to a fine proud pair of young ladies of outstanding firmness of moral principle and purpose we in the village know colloquially as The Strap-On sisters.

These two ladies have taken it upon themselves to administer the kind of rough justice to any such miscreant delivered to them with a firmness of purpose that will impress upon the ne’er-do-well that unsociable acts have consequences that will leave him (or – upon occasion – her) unable to sit comfortably with themselves for several weeks.

Friday, October 23, 2009

Furtive Sexual Dalliances In The Pet Food Aisle

Here we begin with just these radishes, a vibraphone and your collection of luminous underwater cheese-grating accoutrements. It is not easy making the freshly-oiled and naked social worker comply with all the newly-implemented EU Working Directive legislation, especially whilst utilising the smaller of the three specially-designated ladles to half-fill the watering can placed between her knees. However, while she is lying their tightly bound and optimally-positioned in the tupping harness with her clipboard at the ready, we have no choice but to make sure her box is properly ticked before moving on to the next item on the agenda, providing you have remembered to bring the raspberries.


Having said that (and I must have done, otherwise why would you be staring at me with such rapt admiration. Well, it must be rapt admiration, unless you have just remembered you left your favourite fireman marinating in exotic unguents back in the perversion shed on your allotment… again).

Still, let us not tarry a moment longer. Go and fetch the spanner! I need to adjust my loin-girding before sallying forth, that is if Sally has finished her third, and venturing down to our favourite supermarket for furtive sexual dalliances in the pet food aisle whilst you reach up towards the hamster bedding on the uppermost level of the shelving unit.

After that we can come back home for a nice cup of tea and some hot-buttered strumpets.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

A Fully-Qualified Perversion Inspector Calls

Of course, it sometimes happens that in one of the nearby villages something out of the perverse happens. In such cases, they have no choice but to call in a Fully-Qualified Perversion Inspector to investigate the occurrence, and – if necessary – bring the perpetrators to justice, or what remains of justice in this once great land.

In the past, each village would have its own Fully-Qualified Perversion Inspector, a familiar figure alongside the village bobby, vicar or village idiot (latterly replaced by the local Member of Parliament, of course), who could be called upon at any time of the day or night to help deal with any perversion-related incident that may have arisen. Anything from a suspected use of un-calibrated sex spatulas in a built-up area to the use of an unlicensed airship for erotic purposes (or, as in one notorious case, erotic porpoises), fell under the remit of the ‘Perversions Man’.

These days, though, thanks mainly to the influence of the EU, it is more of a bureaucratic calling, making sure that the weasel unguents are correctly labelled, that the melons are to a metric standard and that the cucumbers are as straight as possible and that all the cream cakes are compliant with EU standards.

However, there are times when it is a bit like the old days, the Perversion Inspector fighting the battle for truth, justice and just the requisite amounts of moistness concomitant with an enthralling evening’s light perversion*.


*Or, if any dark perversions are to be undertaken it is the perversion Inspector’s job to make sure that all participants are wearing high visibility tabards and have a fully-functioning torch.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

The Dreaded Itchy Knee Problem


When one has the sex spatulas poised over the postmistress, it is – perhaps – not the best time for the sudden onset of the dreaded itchy knee. However, I’m sure it is a problem with which we all gathered here are more than familiar. Itchy knee has been the most troubling of the debilitating orgiastical difficulties that the scientists at the Little Frigging University Advanced Applied Orgiastics laboratory have been studying.

Of course, theoreticians of Advanced Orgiastics have been studying the dreaded itchy knee problem for many centuries without coming to any firm (or even upstanding) explanations for why it always tends to happen at the most crucial moments such as in the position described above, or when one is applying the final coat of unguents to an assistant librarian.

Up until fairly recently, though, it is a problem that has had to remain at the level of abstraction and theory without any possibility of a practical resolution. Now, however, with today’s advanced computing power it is possible to accurately model within a computer a typical village hall orgy in the detail necessary for cases of itchy knee to arise spontaneously within the simulation. This does away with many of the problems associated with trying to recreate artificially the conditions necessary for the onset of itchy knee, say in a laboratory orgy. For in the laboratory orgy, not only are their fetish-related artefacts such as the white laboratory coats which can have a distorting effect on the results, but there are also the problem of retorts getting in the way and the concomitant danger of getting the hairy bits slightly too close to the Bunsen burners. All of which can introduce far more variables into the equations than are strictly necessary, especially when trying to accurately model the behaviour of a brace of library assistants sharing a bowl of trifle and a volunteer fireman.

Monday, October 19, 2009

Medieval Woodland Perversions


Of course, many of you may be keen to learn more about the use of woodland perversions in a historical context. Rather than disabuse you of this notion, I thought it would be far easier for all concerned if I shed a little light upon a specific period of historical interest for your edification.

Therefore, today we are going to take a look at medieval woodland perversions and the role played by that infamous group of woodland perversion practitioners from the Middle-Ages, Robin Hood and his ‘Merry’ men.

Of course, ‘Robin Hood’ was not his real name, it was one taken from a very particular medieval perversion which – according to the rather sketchy historical records seemed to feature wild birds in bondage. Such practices as The Shackled Song Thrush, The Blackbird In Handcuffs, The Robin In A Hood and, especially The Hog-Tied Pheasant were commonplace, especially on the common lands set aside for such practices.

However, the medieval deviant had to be very careful when engaging in woodland perversions. There was a constant danger of the Wild Boar Surprise taking them in the rear and the ever-present danger of Will Scarlet if they indulged in too much ‘Friar Tuck’ especially if their habits were on the unsanitary side.

Of course, in those days before central heating hot-buttered strumpets were vital for keeping the men of the forest fully stimulated with their ardour in the arbour.

Furthermore, in the dense medieval forest there was no room for such medieval perversions, especially siege perversions, we have discussed elsewhere, without even the room to swing a trebuchet.

With the ever-present danger of getting his halberd stuck in a thicket, or even his clothyard shaft entangled in the undergrowth when whipping out his longbow, there was always the danger that the medieval suitor would put a severe dent in his lady’s wimple. Therefore, medieval woodland perversions were a short-lived phenomenon, dying out as the woodlands themselves were cut back in order to accommodate both increased agricultural production and some of the more expansive field perversion that were just then coming into fashion amongst the landed gentry.

Friday, October 9, 2009

Grand Uncle Stagnant – The Early Years


Whilst it is true that all the gentlemen in the village of Little Frigging do all boast a more than averagely well-filled trouser, Grand Uncle Stagnant stands well out to the forefront, compared to most of the others in the village, in his being far more than well-blessed in the gentleman’s region.

Back in his heyday, Grand Uncle Stagnant was all set to become the United Kingdom’s Olympic gold medal wining hope in the pole vault. That was until the day he was disqualified when they discovered he was not using a pole.

Distraught at being dropped from the Olympic squad, Grand Uncle Stagnant went abroad where, for a time (or two) he found work as a gondolier in Venice. Even there, though, they hounded out of his job when the men who hired out Grand Uncle Stagnant’s gondola for the evening discovered their romantic partner could not take her eyes off Grand Uncle Stagnant as he languidly wielded his huge pole with long slow strokes in order to propel the gondola down the canals.

After leaving Venice, Grand Uncle Stagnant set off on his adventures, pausing briefly in Paris to work as a model for Gustave Eiffel, who was busy working on his latest public monument for the city centennial celebration of the French Revolution.

Later he moved back to Britain, where he inspired a similar tower in the seaside resort of Blackpool. However, he had to leave that place in somewhat of a hurry after the donkeys on the beach became far too antagonistic towards him for making them feel inferior.

After his sterling service in the service of his country during the war, Grand Uncle Stagnant, returned to Little Frigging In The Wold to a hero’s welcome. Which, rumour had it, left several of the ladies of the village in a state of near exhaustion, and that was before he was even fully demobbed.

After that Grand Uncle Stagnant became a familiar sight in the village as he strode around doing odd jobs for whichever ladies of the village needed something seeing to which their husbands, and other menfolk, just had not got the tool for. And there he has remained to this day; always ready to put himself out for any lady that requests his assistance.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Maureen’s Encounters With The Firemen’s Poles And Helmets


Maureen, my good lady wife, herself has often commented on the amount of time I spend on these outpourings from my organ. So, in retaliation, I have often suggested that she ought to consider expounding on some of her own experiences in Little Frigging, especially the sterling work she, and many of the other ladies in the village, perform in keeping our village volunteer fire service operating at its peak.

Maureen, I know, does spend a considerable amount of her free time making sure the firemen’s poles are buffed up to perfection, as well as spending several hours a day polishing the firemen’s helmets for them. She has often spoken, in wistful tones, of the effusive outpourings of satisfaction she gets from the firemen whenever she bends to give their helmets her devoted attentions.

Not only that she is often out in the fields with our farmhand, Al Fresco, helping him test the integrity of the haystacks and making sure the hayloft is well stocked with plenty of hay. This does seem like very hot work indeed and Maureen does often seem to leave behind several items of her clothing when she has spent an hour or two in the hayloft with Al, which can sometimes cause a few problems when I find her discarded underwear mixed up in with the hay for the cows.

Maureen has also taken quite an interest in local traditions. She especially likes to help out down at the blacksmith’s forge, where you can often find her assisting our local blacksmith, Strom Thighhammer as he wields his mighty tool for the delectation of the many women from the village who have taken to visiting his forge whenever they feel the need for some very hot action.

The Special Relativity Of Grand Uncle Stagnant

Of course, whilst out on field perversions it is sometimes vital that you are able to find true north using only a naked postmistress and a small punnet of raspberries. This is easy enough to do for anyone with even the shakiest grasp of field perversions, so obviously I will not speak any more of it, except to remind you to always place the raspberries downwind of any nearby gorse bushes, otherwise you could have a very disgruntled postmistress on your hands. While in another other circumstances there is a lot to be said for having a naked postmistress on yours hands, a disgruntled one is far from ideal.


Having said that, though, the use of the cream horn to entice a bevy of stable girls into the more intriguing nooks and crannies of your smallholding should not be undertaken lightly, especially if the nature of your putative dalliance will do anything to perturb any domesticated animals, or even semi-domesticated relatives.

In this case, I am – obviously – thinking of Grand Uncle Stagnant for whom the mere thought of a bevy of stable girls disporting themselves in a wanton manner is enough to cause serious distortion of the space-time continuum about his nether regions. Here we come across an instance of Einstein’s Theory of Special Relativity, namely that the distortion of space-time around any relative by marriage is bound to have repercussions for your own bodily integrity – but only if the wife finds out about it.

Friday, October 2, 2009

The Art Of Sex Weasel Hypnosis

Well, here we are again, looking deep into the eyes of our sex weasels. Those of you who have never learnt how to exercise control over your sex weasel using hypnosis and still utilise the disciplinarian – or ‘big stick’ approach are – I’m afraid – missing out on so much of the repertoire of the modern sex weasel in many aspects of the rude and naughty arts.

Although use of the sex weasel goes back many centuries mainly because of the pernicious influence of the church on all forms of sexually-interesting activities, the use of the sex weasel was more often than not frowned upon in polite society. In fact, by way of example, Oscar Wilde caused outrage when he openly gesticulated whilst clutching a sex weasel during the dress rehearsals for Lady Windermere’s Fan.

Even further back in history, it was her frank use of a sex weasel and a brace of oranges on a Monday afternoon stroll in one of London’s main thoroughfares which led to Charles II’s mistress, Nell Gwyn, getting a reputation for being quite a naughty lady indeed.

However, it wasn’t until the heady days of the swinging sixties that sex weasels became a common and accepted part of the ordinary, run-of-the-mill pervert’s repertoire, but that will be a subject for another time (or a few times if you are in the mood).

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Doris Smith

‘However, should the pumpkin fail to ignite the latent desires of your supermarket cashier, you may have to consider rewiring the parakeets in series rather than parallel. This, of course, means that the main course ought to be something fish-based, providing all the guests at your orgy have remembered to bring their perversion racquets.’

No doubt none of you (both) gathered here today to peruse the outpourings of my organ will fail to recognise those words from that classic of the Perverteer’s art, Doris Smith’s How To Be Rude And Naughty. Doris Smith is, of course, the most famous writer and broadcaster on the art of perversion in the UK today. Her books constantly top the best seller charts, he TV programmes are always amongst the most watch on TV and her DVDs easily outsell any other instructional videos.

It was said that during her last TV series, Doris Smith’s Homemade Orgies, nearly every British supermarket completely sold out of sex spatulas and stoat-tensing cues the day after Smith’s programme demonstrating their uses was first aired. She is also said to be responsible for the incredible amount of badger spleen oil sold over the counter within the UK, easily outstripping* the rest of the EU.


*The use of badger spleen oil for outdoor striptease is another of Doris Smith’s favourite uses for this the most versatile of the erotic oils.