As the spring grows on apace, one’s thoughts naturally turn towards chasing a brace of dairymaids through the undergrowth and ensconcing one’s self in a discreet thicket with them in order to discuss matters arising.
Not only that, the ladies of Little Frigging will be out now the evenings are getting lighter, looking for any errant fireman, policeman or other uniformed man of natural authority to assist them achieve their wants and desires with a manly firmness that leaves the ladies fully satiated.
Of course, our local vicar, Rev. Counter, once he has got the tiresome business of religion out of the way for another week will be making haste to the church tower. The place where he and his live-in campanologist will be busy polishing each other’s bell-end and tugging one another’s rope until their bells ring out in a manner that brings deep satisfaction to them both.
Meanwhile, I in my position as Professor of Theoretical and Applied Orgiastics at the University of Little Frigging in the Wold will be taking my students in hand and preparing them for their oral exams at the end of this term. I will also be instructing my Post-Graduate students in advanced use of the watermelon, and how to approach a cake shop assistant with the sex spatulas in the ‘Ready’ position, without causing undue distress to the chicken.