Wednesday, March 31, 2010

A Historical Bent

Those of you of a historical bent will no doubt be aware that these days you can get an ointment for it, and – possibly - not only that you will no doubt be familiar with the name of Lady Godiva of Coventry. However, you may not be aware of the name of a similar historical figure from the annals of the history of Little Frigging In The Wold that we have just made up in order to attract more tourist and their money that recent research in the History Department (formerly the chicken shed) at the University of Little Frigging has uncovered.


Here we speak of the - up until now – little-known Lady Muffdiva of Little Frigging, who, back in the Middle-Ages, flew into a strop one day on hearing that her husband, Lord Haliberd D’friggere was considering not taxing the peasants that year. This was because - as contemporary records state - a delegation of dairy maids had called on him in order to show him ‘ye fulle statees of theyr destitutionnes and want of undergarmentry in order to preserve theyr maidenly modeste.’

On hearing that her husband intended to overlook that year’s taxes Lady Muffdiva was incensed, especially since she heard that her husband’s private and confidential audience with the dairy maids had lasted for nearly a whole week and had used over three pounds of fresh butter and the erotic use of a ladle. She found it almost intolerable that mere peasants should be allowed to keep their own money, and to use it to buy themselves clothes, when she had barely enough dresses and – indeed – undergarments to enable her to have a complete change of clothes every 3 hours, or every 2 hours if in attendance at court.

However, as her husband pointed out, as a Lady Of The Queen’s Bedchamber, she did not have to wear all that many clothes when at court attending to the queen’s particular demands. Here the historical record gets a little sketchy when detailing those particular queenly demands, as the recording monk’s lettering becomes increasingly indecipherable, but most historians agree that Lord Haliberd D’friggere suggested that the only things his wife needed to wear on such occasions was the handle-end of a broken lance and some exotic oil in order to perform the particular duties that the Queen demanded of her.

Incensed by her husband’s callous, and - possibly - traitorous, remarks, Lady Muffdiva strode out of the castle and, after a hand-up from her personal maid, mounted her filly and rode off away from Little Frigging Castle in her haste to get back to her beloved Queen.

Unfortunately however, her ladyship had caught her wimple on a lose nail in the stables, which meant that as she rode from the castle her clothing unravelled until – as she road through Little Frigging she was completely naked, much to the satisfaction of the peasants in the village who all cheered her on her way with many helpful suggestions, with quite a few explicit gestures, as to how she could serve the queen better.

Thus was a legend made up… born.

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

On Making Certain Economies

Of course, the recent economic situation has hit some in the rural community very hard indeed. Although, it must be said to those interested in physical chastisement that has – indeed – been one of the upsides of the recent difficulties.

Unfortunately, it seems that it is increasingly difficult these days to get hold of an estate agent for the traditional Immolation of the Estate Agent festivities. As for getting hold of a banker this far out of the city, and getting him (if you are that way inclined) to take all your deposits is – I am informed – becoming increasingly complex.


However, here in Little Frigging, we have successfully, managed to ride out the recession by making full use of he village hall for orgies every evening during the week, thus saving on home heating bills, and even making quite a saving on the heating bills for the village hall, as once the friction from the intimate parts of the bodies starts to heat the hall up we can dispense with the heating there too. Also the intense friction built up during some orgiastic actions can ignite some of the more exotic unguents, adding the romance of naked flame to the proceedings. Although, when Old Feebletrousers’ beard caught fire one evening last week, it took both the librarian and her assistant to put it out, luckily though they had both imbibed plenty of fluids earlier in the evening, so were able to give him a more than copious showering.

Also, the ladies of Little Frigging have begun knitting their own fetish gear, and whilst bobble hat, scarf and sock bondage is not to everyone’s taste, it has certainly helped out many of those with cash flow problems, especially those who like to keep any spare finances in an old sock, as some of the more voluminous socks knitted by the ladies seem quite capable of secreting several gold bars each.

Friday, March 26, 2010

The Little Frigging Ladies Synchronised Fondling Display Team

Now, as it happens, the Little Frigging Ladies Synchronised fondling display team are already to give the annual Little Frigging mixed-doubles fondling demonstration that – as a tradition dating back to the week before the introduction of colour TV into the locality – is both ancient and noble.


Now, those of you who have not had the pleasure of receiving a synchronised fondling from a team of experts can well imagine, it is not an experience for those not able to stand firm under such an onslaught. This is especially true when the highly dexterous fingers of the ladies are moving around your person in a manner that brings gasps of astonishment and delight to the watching audience.

It is a strong man who is not almost overcome by the time the ladies have finished even their first ministrations and are ready to commence on some of the more complex manoeuvrings that denote a synchronised fondling team at the height of their powers. Such manoeuvres as: ‘’The Crouching Mangle Operative, Hidden Sock Retrieval, The Pummelling Panel Beater, The Hopping Tax Inspector and so on often leave many a volunteer fondlee with tears in his eyes in gratitude for the way the Little Frigging Ladies Synchronised fondling display team have taken him in hand. Many a gentleman in the audience too has to sit there once the display is over as he contemplates such a fate befalling himself, unless he immediately takes himself in hand and feels himself swelling up with pride at what he has witnessed.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Tag Orgies

Here we are then. We have our sex spatulas and our sexual deviance spanners at the ready. The ladies’ team is suitably equipped across at the other end of the village hall, and we await the opening ceremony by the Lord High Baster of the Marmosets in order to initiate this – the first village tag orgy of the new Not-Quite-Spring season.


Of course, there are some aficionados of the sport who claim that tag orgies are – by definition – not real orgies at all, as they lack the usual free-form open play that one comes to expect to see on the more traditional orgy pitch. This may indeed be true. However, I am not such a stickler for the traditions as most would believe though, and I do believe that the sport must grow and develop, experiment, try new things, if it wants to retain its position as one of the most popular - both in terms of participants and in the number of spectators – traditional rural sports.

However, many – including me – believe that it is those sheer numbers that have prevented this mendaciously interfering government of busybodies from attempting to over-regulate, or even ban the sport of rural orgying; just as they did with fox hunting, estate agent immolation and tax-inspector baiting.

Monday, March 22, 2010

Grand Uncle Stagnant And Philosophy

Let me take you by the throat and take you to the streets of Little Frigging, where later this evening we will see Grand Uncle Stagnant taking the scenic route home from The Pervert’s Appendage. His route usually takes him via some of the more verdant of the hedges in the vicinity as well as several of the muddier ditches he swears leap out from hiding at the side of the road deliberately to ensnare him whilst he is busy pondering various philosophical verities during his perambulations.


Not only does his mind have a philosophical bent, Grand Uncle Stagnant is also very much interested in the practicalities of living in this modern world. For example, his philosophical speculations on the nature of mind, and body, and how an interesting amount of beer can so often seem to dislocate one from the other are very much admired by those who gather in the snug of The Pervert’s Appendage to engage in discussion with him.

In addition, on his meanderings home he also likes to muse upon the vexed philosophical problem of what the best way to persuade a brace of dairy maids of the unnecessary nature of underwear. Then how to make them aware of how the experience and wisdom of the older man can bring them both enlightenment and satiation so oft beyond the callow gropings of those who have only youth to recommend them.

Then it is a matter of negotiating the tricky metaphysics of the takeaway, and coming to a deep philosophical understanding of the ontological necessity of the kebab before he finally arrives home – sometimes, if he is very lucky his own home – to sleep the sleep of the philosophically refreshed.

Friday, March 19, 2010

Being Charitable

Following the apparent continued success of charity events such as Comic Relief and Sports Relief, the ladies of Little Frigging In The Wold have taken it upon themselves to launch a similar charitable initiative.

So, soon the ladies of Little Frigging will today offer themselves up all in aid of their very own new charity event: Hand Relief.


Consequently, any upstanding gentlemen visiting Little Frigging today can thrust himself towards the eagerly awaiting Little Frigging ladies, who will then take him firmly in hand until a suitable donation, no matter how modest, or - indeed – copious, is forthcoming.

Not only that, the ladies have also promised to undertake several events which they are confident will keep the men coming back for more, and – consequently – keep the donations pouring into the eagerly-opened coffers of the ladies.

There will also be sideshows and demonstration events. For example: the ever-popular Little Frigging Ladies Naked And Lightly-Oiled Twister Team will be performing a demonstration of their championship-wining prowess, and any visiting gentleman is free to join in as long as he gives a generous donation to one of the team members.

The ladies from the cake shop will – of course – be there, and promise to give any man who puts himself into their hands a full-cream horn in return for a generous donation on his part.

For those of a more specialised bent, the Strap-on Sisters themselves have promised to give a thorough prodding to any gentleman visitor to the village seemingly unwilling to open himself up to this very worthwhile charitable cause, in the hope that the full thrust of their entries results in the aforesaid gentleman producing a very generous donation in response to their plunging themselves into the full depths of his open generosity.

All-in-all then a very worthwhile cause and I would suggest to all my readers (yes, both of you), to pop along to the village sometime today and allow the ladies here to take you in hand, all in the name of a good cause.

Thursday, March 18, 2010

A Farming Crisis

So far, so good then. Luckily, so far this year we have avoided most of the farming crises of the last few years. As you probably know, free-range hairstylists and lawyers do not – as a rule - catch foot and mouth disease. However, a few cases of hairdressers coming down with bluetongue are on the record, but this was more to do with accidents with some of the more extreme colours of hair dye.


However, both lawyers and hairstylists can come down with severe cases of inane drivel, a disease that makes the infected animal witter on and on until they keel over and die, almost literally talking themselves to death, that is unless someone else hasn’t already killed them first, being no longer able to put up with the constant chatter any longer.

I can tell you, it is not a pretty sight to see a normally robust and healthy hairstylist falling to the ground wittering on about holidays and boyfriend troubles at an almost manic rate until she is too exhausted to even form the words coherently (or as coherent as hairstylists ever get) until she succumbs to exhaustion and then, eventually, death.

The great fear for any breeder of farm-assured lawyers is - of course - that they become infected with politics, and have to be slaughtered on the spot to prevent the spread of the disease. Or – if it is tragically too late for such preventative measures – the farmer can only hope one of the political parties will take them away to be kept apart from members of the general public in quarantined conditions in local council chambers. Alternatively, in the case of the more virulent strains of the disease, the unfortunates must be kept quarantined in the Houses of Parliament until their danger to the public has passed.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Space Hopper-Based Perversions

The pogo stick is – as you probably know - very useful in a village orgy context. So I am sure many of you (both) gathered here today will, of course, be wondering about whether the humble space hopper could perform a similar function, say in a more domesticated setting such as your own front room, garden shed, supermarket checkout queue or local pub car park at closing time.


I – for one, or for a few times, at least – see no reason why this device should not be utilised in such a manner between fully consenting adults.

For example, many ladies of my acquaintance have, with a few small (or not so small) modifications, adapted the space hopper to make riding one a memorable experience for a suitably under-dressed lady wishing to seat herself in a very fulfilling manner with the aid of –say – a strap-on appendence firmly attached to the seating area of the space hopper.

Indeed, for such gentlemen interested in receiving visitors at the back door, as it were, a similar adaptation can easily be accomplished. By way of example, I’m… er… reliably led to believe that the Strap-On Sisters themselves have - in the past - oft firmly seated and fastened some miscreant onto such a device before pushing him, astride the space hopper, down the long circular staircase that leads downwards from the top of Strap-On Tower to teach him the error of his ways.

In fact, as long they are ridden with due care and attention for the prevailing bouncing conditions I see no reason why a space hopper should not become a fundamental part of anyone’s perversion repertoire. Perhaps, in time the space hopper may become as essential as the sex spatulas, watermelon, badger spleen oil, cream cakes and split-crotch donkey jacket without which – to what remains of my mind – no erotic experience is complete.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

The Peregrinations Of PC Ghonnemadd


When out on his peregrinations around the village, our local policeman, PC Ghonnemadd, is often called upon by the ladies of the village to whip his truncheon out and come to their assistance. Whenever such ladies feel the need to have a man in uniform help them overcome their current predicament, PC Ghonnemadd can always be relied upon to be there. He will be standing to full attention in readiness for the ladies to allow him entry to their premises in order that he can bring his expertise to hand in order to satisfy their current needs.

Many a lady of Little Frigging has admitted that when they find themselves in need of a man in uniform, it is always most reassuring to see PC Ghonnemadd’s familiar helmet coming to their assistance. To see him standing there with his truncheon firmly in hand drawing himself up to his full height with his helmet at the ready, can often lead to the ladies becoming overcome with relief before the PC even has time to take down their particulars.

It is believed, throughout the village, that the firm hand of the law provided by PC Ghonnemadd, and his willingness to whip out his truncheon to come to the assistance of any lady who needs to feel the reassuring presence of an upstanding uniformed man with his helmet ready to come to their assistance, which has made Little Frigging largely crime free over the last few years, in marked contrast – it seems to the rest of this country.

Monday, March 15, 2010

Strictly Come Village Orgying

There was much excitement in the village this weekend as Little Frigging made it through to the semi-finals of the BBC’s Strictly Come Village Orgying.


Little Frigging went through to the semis after a stunning but tense quarter-final play off against Yorkshire’s champion village, Buggerofftwat. The round was only decided at the very last minute after a tense nail-biting Ladies’ Excuse Me which saw Little Frigging’s own Strom Thighhammer thrust up against Buggerofftwat’s leading free-form fondle, Mrs Hetty Polestraddler. Mrs Polestraddler is notorious throughout the village orgy community for her remarkable ability to not only cross her ankles behind her ears, but also for possessing an incredible talent for sucking cricket balls up through a normal drinking straw.

However, such is the strict training regime that the ladies of Little Frigging enforce upon Strom Thighhammer during the off-season; he is able to take such carnal excesses in his stride. He was therefore able to make Mrs Polestraddler come over all unnecessary with some rather deft footwork during the full reversal over-arm thigh-fondle, and thenceforth some confident handling of Mrs Polestraddler through the chicane.

Of course, Mrs Polestraddler was not going to take this lying down, not after the first few times anyway, and countered with a very strict grasp on Strom’s wherewithal during the tango. However, in the end, the judges decided to hand it to Strom on points, especially as Mrs Polestraddler was finding it difficult to climb out of the bath filled with lime jelly before the umpire was blown for the end of the round.

In the end, then Little Frigging were declared victors by 12 points, a multiple orgasm and a fully-satiated goat.

Friday, March 12, 2010

The Little Frigging Annual Fumble Sale

Now that we have our postmistress aligned with the assistant librarian and the semi-lubricated under-gardener has been shackled to the blade of the windmill in readiness, I think it is time to release the leather thong-clad bargain-seekers into the village car park where the stalls are set out waiting for their custom.


Yes, once again it is time for Little Frigging annual Fumble Sale in Aid of the Village Orgy Hall Restoration Fund*. So once the crowd of semi-naked and be-fetish-geared punters begins to have themselves a jolly good fumble around with the goods available for sale, and – quite often – with each other too, I will take the chance to point out some of the more interesting stalls and the items they have on sale.

The home-made unguents and lubricants stall have a special offer on the always very useful Badger Spleen oil, and a three-for-the-price-of-two offer on Grand Uncle Stagnant’ famous Home-Made Vinaigrette Librarian-Lubricating Oil, ideal for those of you wishing to slip yourself easily between her volumes.

The Dairymaid’s demonstration stall is – as usual - very popular with gentlemen visitors to the Fumble sale, where the Little Frigging dairy maids demonstrate the finger-technique and wrist action that makes them able to fill a pail with creamy goodness in less than five minutes whenever enough dairy men put themselves into the hands of the dairy maids.

It goes without saying that the ladies from the cake shop will have their baps out on display for the delectation of anyone wishing to peruse them, as well as offering to lick into shape any gentleman’s cream horn should he feel that it is about to lose its cream in response to their adept ministrations.

Then there is - always popular with the ladies – the Feel The Size Of The Fireman’s Hose stall with Strom Thighhammer is as usual at the end of the row of stalls, where it can take advantage of the extra space available for Strom to make the most of himself.


*Those of you wishing to donate to this very good cause can easily do so in the sidebar.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

On Approaching A Putative Dalliance Partner

Of course, one of the most common problems to arise in the niceties of village hall orgy etiquette is that of the best way for a gentleman in good standing to approach a putative dalliance partner whose name is not already on his orgy card. Of course, most ladies at an orgy will be more than forthcoming to any gentleman of obvious good standing who does approach them, after all that is why they are there.


However, it is not a good idea for the gentleman to slap his wherewithal down in the lady’s trifle, especially if there is a chance of him spilling cream over her baps before they have had the chance even to be formally introduced.

It is also regarded as bad form for any lady present at an orgy to make disparaging remarks about a gentleman’s accomplishments, especially if – during a winter orgy, for example – the village hall is a little on the cool side.

Of course, during a meal break, it is considered polite for a lady to compliment her dining partner on the quality of his meat and two veg, while the man should look favourably upon the melons proffered towards him by those ladies seated in his immediate vicinity.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Tactical Subtleties Of The Inter-Village Orgy Match


The use of oranges to enhance one’s experience of the cake shop manageress during the half time break is a well-known fact about inter-village orgy team coaching. However, it is not often appreciate how the use of the wellies and sex spatulas during that same half-time break can prevent a team from going down too early to a stiff opposition thrusting forward towards your side’s open box.

Successful coaching of an inter-village orgy team requires more than an ability to stand only the sidelines masticating furiously with one eye on your stopwatch and taking surreptitious swigs from the liniment bottle while everyone’s attention is diverted by the referee being blown for an offside, or ungentlemanly conduct with the opposition’s mallard duck.

For example, one will have to spend sometime making sure the assistant librarians on the substitute bench are fully aware of the tactical subtleties you wish them to introduce by making sure they have a firm grasp of your point and are adept at manipulating the situation to your satisfaction.

Not only that your forward fondlers will have to make sure they are ready to change ends at a moment’s notice when the opposition are about to go deep from their own end. This could easily expose your swingers, leaving them caught out in the open with no-one to cover their open flanks as the opposition forwards bear down on them and they are suddenly all overcome.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Breakfast Perversions

The lupins of all our most preposterous Tuesdays grow up around the ankles of the bedazzled Diversity Outreach Workers of our souls as we make our way down the High Street, which is – once again – flooded waist-deep in lemon marmalade. Once more, it seems we have been inundated with a marmalade flood unknown in these isles since the times of the Romans, when – as every school age learning unit knows - the British Isles were the scene for some of the most dangerous fruit-preserve-based immersions in history.

However, you may be asking yourselves what this has to do with Little Frigging and the perverted arts and sciences, apart – that is – from the obvious fruit preserved based perversions that have been the staple of many a British breakfast-time tryst dating back almost beyond the very first days of Breakfast TV itself.


Apart, of course, from the Full English* perversion, many of the breakfast perversions will entail clearing some space on the breakfast table. However, those wishing for the less strenuous continental breakfast perversions are advised to check the integrity, and – most importantly – the temperature of their croissant before inserting it into any available post mistress.

At breakfast-time the ladies in the cake-shop should just be checking their baking ovens. So if you nip around to the cake shop with some alacrity – and some butter, of course – the cake shop manageress’s baps should still be warm when she gets them out for you, ready to be smeared with your butter.


*Including the all-important fried bread and bowler hat, obviously.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Be Proudly Upstanding Once More

Notwithstanding is an unfortunate affliction of the male that we have had – upon occasion – to touch upon before. Unfortunately, if the touching is ineffective then some other course of action is often called for in order to refurnish the aforesaid gentleman back to full ardour and to a state of being proudly upstanding once more.


Often, the mere presence of a lady from the cake shop offering her baps up for the delectation of the unfortunate one who feels his membership is on the wane is enough to bring about the stiffening of his resolve, especially if that lady then goes on to offer to lap up any excess of outpourings from his cream horn.

Sometimes even a brief period of frank perusal of his organ by an assistant librarian is also enough to get the gentleman to take out his hardback for the librarian to catalogue, and to ease it snugly into the tight gap on her shelves.

Dairymaids too can play an active role in making sure a gentleman achieves his full standing in the community, for their expert ministrations, supple wrists and deft fingerings could – as Grand Uncle Stagnant so eloquently attests – give even a gentleman of his advanced years and wide experience a stiffy hard enough to poke holes in solid concrete. And – to judge from the state of the walls down in my own cowshed after grand Uncle Stagnant and his bevy of dairymaids have been dallying there for a while – it is not a claim without some foundation.

So, therefore, if any gentleman on his approach to a village orgy begins to question his ardour, there is no need for his head to droop in seeming sympathy with his under-trouser area. For - no doubt – there will be within the confines of the village hall many ladies willing, if not eager – to take him in hand until he is standing proud once more.

Friday, March 5, 2010

Post-Village Orgy Reordering And Restoration


Earlier this evening it was a stirring sight to see the librarian and her assistant carrying the pineapple and the handcuffs across the floor of the village hall, watching them both carefully stepping over those already writhing on the floor in the Ladies’ Excuse Me. When they finally met up with Strom Thighhammer, waiting oiled and poised, on the stage near to the potted aspidistra left over from last season’s production of When A Government Perversion Inspector Calls they then instigated one of the most profoundly uplifting versions of the Pineapple Inquiry I have ever seen performed on a man of Thighhammer’s impressive standing. I must say it brought tears to my eyes too, and I was only there in my capacity as invigilator.

Luckily, I remembered to stop the clock as the ladies took a step back to admire their handiwork, and – of course – to allow Strom to achieve his full potential. Fortuitously, I’d already opened the skylight, so there was no repeat of last year’s unfortunate incident where Strom accidentally knocked the police helicopter out of the sky and it ended up in the duck pond.

Although the police did want to bring charges of the undue moistening of a police officer going about his business, the Crown Court judge immediately dropped the case as soon as he glimpsed the strength of Strom’s alibi.

So now we have put the sex spatulas and the fetish tongs back in the sex utensil drawer and hung up all the dildos on the dildo rail, and the postmistress and the assistant librarian are sweeping up the cake crumbs from the village hall floor. All that remains is for someone to don the rubber gloves and apron to help Old Feebletrousers from the tupping harness over by the ladies cloakroom and then we can turn the lights out on one more successful village orgy.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Inter-Village Perversions Cup News


Big news on the Inter-Village Perversions Cup front, it seems that the Lower Spadgecock Farmyard Dalliances squad has been caught augmenting its chicken feed with banned substances. This means that they have been disqualified from the semi-finals of the Inter-villages Cup Winners Cup Winners Cup, despite beating Titten Growper in the first leg by three goals, one boundary and a very surprised goat.

It has been ruled by the Inter-Village Pervert’s Association that therefore Titten Growper will go through to the semi-finals in Lower Spadgecock’s stead. There – of course – they will meet Little Frigging for a place in the finals.

Now, on the face of it, this may seem like good news as Titten Growper have proved to be the weaker of the two teams, but only on the day. Another deep concern is that Titten Growper V Little Frigging matches have never seen either side come out as consistent victors. However, Titten Growper does seem to be Little Frigging’s bogey team, often coming out the victors in these crucial matches.

So, then, all to play for on Saturday.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Community Leader

As you may, or may not, know (probably the latter, as I've never knowingly mentioned it before) Colonel Fitz-Tightly is the closest Little-Frigging-In-The-Wold has to a so-called 'community leader'. Like all such 'community leaders', it is a position he himself seems to have elected himself to, without reference to anyone else.


Mostly, it seems, this is because he apparently enjoys the sound of his own opinions, and is ever-willing to offer instant reactions to anything and everything put to him by the media without the need for even the slightest pause for reflection. This is - of course - a big plus in the contemporary 24-hour instant media world where immediate reaction is prized far higher than sober reflection or apposite judgement. Consequently - as with all such people in the media, especially those performing in the punditry circus - it seems the ones that get the most attention are the ones always willing to 'put the show on right here', at the drop of a sound bite.

Although, he usually has no time or aptitude for realising much, the Colonel has seemingly realised the above. So, Foaming Lickspittle, the editor of our village newspaper, knows that if he needs an instant opinion on anything at all. For example, from litter on the Little Frigging village green to an analysis of our chances in the Upper Thyghspreader Inter-Village Sexual Perversions Cup, then a quick call to Colonel Fitz-Tightly is all that is needed in order to fill up that troublesome white space between the adverts in The Little-Frigging-In-The-Wold Gleaner.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

On Showing Your Working


As the time for the final exams approaches for this year’s intake, here at the university of Little Frigging, Draws every closer, I must once again impress upon you all the importance of showing your working, if you are going to get maximum marks on both the theoretical and the the practical papers. The examiners will be very interested to see that you have learnt all there is to learn about the correct way to apply marmalade to a naked chiropodist, and the importance of using the correct knots when restraining a cake shop manageress – especially in the near vicinity of fresh cream trifle, both in theory and in practice.

Of course, on the theoretical side some of the equations for working out the correct angle to place your traffic warden in relation to both the weasels and the ironing board are vital. Especially if one does not with to become the laughing stock of one’s local Amateur Perversions club, especially during the Ladies Excuse-Me at the Annual Little Frigging Spring Solstice Bring A Badger Supper And Dance. Therefore, a pass (preferably with distinction) in the Applied Unguents and Lubricating Lotions paper is a must for all aspirant perverts.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Non-Euclidian Geometry

Anyway. So here we are again. Isn't his nice? Isn't it cosy? Put that aardvark down and come and sit by this nice warm roaring fire, throw another salesman on it if you still feel a bit cold. After all there is no point putting your clothes back on, not now, is there? At least, not until you've had a bath and washed all the mayonnaise off.


You know, sometimes I think I may be getting a bit too old for all these sexual perversions. My back aches the morning after, and these days I find it hard to get that excited about lubricating the weasels, especially that tricky bit just behind the left ear, and as far running through the woods trying to chase down a wild dental technician or a feral hair stylist… well, I don't think my heart is in it any more.

Perhaps, my little protractor, we ought to give up the sexual perversions and take up a new hobby, one more in keeping with our advancing years. For example, something like stamp collecting, knitting, extreme neighbour criticising, political assassination, or something of that ilk. Something that allows you to put your feet up in an evening, and not necessarily in the tupping shackles we normally utilize in our little games where I dress up as an insurance salesman and you wear the sea lion outfit. There is, after all, far more to life than extreme sexual ecstasy utilising strawberry jam and a marmoset or two.

For instance, there is a whole universe of non-Euclidian geometry out there just waiting for us to explore it. So, put your cardigan on my little protractor, and I will dig out my dusty old book of log tables and we will set off together to investigate all its wonders.