Friday, April 8, 2011

Get Your Hands on My Organ


As you may have noticed, over the last few days or so there have been no ejaculations from my organ for you to peruse. This is because I have come to the conclusion that a full and frank perusal of my mighty organ is no longer really possible in this blog-based forum.

As those village ladies who have had a dalliance with Strom Thighhammer know all good things must – eventually - come to an end. So it is with these blog-based emissions.

Therefore I have decided that in the near future all the archives of this blog, and all future emissions from me will now be moved to  Kindle format instead.

There I hope to find the space to go into greater depth and details about all aspects of the perverted arts and sciences in a way that you my loyal reader (and your friend) will find – I hope – well worth the modest outlay required for you to get my hot pulsating organ into your eager hands.

Consequently, all such future ejaculations of my organ will be announced on the blog of my good frien… er… some bloke I met at the pub… er… a close and very personal friend of my good wife, Maureen, here.

Furthermore, as there will in the future only be very infrequent – if any – updates to this Little Frigging in the Wold blog, I will no longer continue with the @Trouserquandary Twitter feed. Instead, all future announcements about Little Frigging Kindle releases and matters arising from such will be dealt with by the Twitter feed of my good frien… er… some bloke I met at the pub… er… a close and very personal friend of my good wife, Maureen, @DavidHadley. So, if you wish to keep abreast of the appearances of my organ you’ll have to put up with his stream of useless bollocks, I’m afraid.

I hope you will enjoy this new way of getting your hands on my organ and hope that my organ will give you far more satisfaction – by being bigger and better and able to penetrate deeper – than has been the case up to now.

Thank you and I look forward to getting my organ into your eager hands as soon as I can.

See you soon.


Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Rural Policing


As any admirer of crime fiction will no doubt be aware, the English Rural landscape is often used as a background for murder mysteries and other such nefarious goings-on in fiction. However, the reality in places like Little Frigging is far more mundane, with the local village policeman, PC Ghonnemadd, rarely called upon to get his truncheon out in the course of his duties. Except, of course, when requested by one of the ladies of the village who feels herself in need of the strong arm of the law to help her overcome her current predicament, perhaps – for example – in order to bring some comfort to her distressed pussy.

However, that is not to say the forces of Law and Order are totally surplus to the requirements of the village. Only last week, for example, it was fortunate that PC Ghonnemadd was present in the snug of The Pervert’s Appendage on the day that Grand Uncle Stagnant lost his legs. Despite searching everywhere for them – even, in a moment of inspiration, in his trousers – he could not find them anywhere.

All that he could recall is that he had divested himself of his trousers in order to help the barmaid change barrels down in the cellar. Being the concerned and helpful villager he is, Grand Uncle Stagnant had took it upon himself to check the quality of the beer in the barrel while the barmaid re-dressed herself, only to find that the barrel must have sprung a leak as it seemingly emptied itself while Grand uncle Stagnant was testing it. On wishing to report this disaster to the pub landlord Grand Uncle Stagnant suddenly discovered that someone had also stolen his legs.

Alerted by his cries for help – interspersed with a few songs about the nocturnal activities of dairymaids – we all, including PC Ghonnemadd rushed to see what was amiss and whether the barmaid needed any assistance with putting her clothes back on.

Once we had all made sure the barmaid was fully-dressed again, it took only a few minutes of investigation for the rapier-like detective skills of PC Ghonnemadd to locate Grand Uncle Stagnant’s legs, still in his long johns, near the vicinity of his body where they usually are. Unfortunately – possibly, theorised PC Ghonnemadd – due to some local gravitational anomaly in the cellar of The Pervert’s Appendage meant that Grand Uncle Stagnant’s legs were not really working as well as they should. However, once Grand Uncle Stagnant had been removed from the area of the gravitational anomaly and had slept off his ordeal in his hayloft with a brace of dairymaids to comfort him, he was soon his old self again and more than eager to venture back down the cellar as soon as the barmaid was willing.

So, once again, thanks to the sterling detective work of PC Ghonnemadd a great tragedy was averted and a greater mystery solved.

Monday, April 4, 2011

Home Perversion Helper


Of course, now he is getting on in years Grand Uncle Stagnant has had to resort to having some home help, to assist him with various day-to-day activities. Every morning a Home Perversion Helper arrives at his cottage to help him disrobe the first brace of that days dairymaids and to help him manipulate his sex spatulas until they are moving freely once more. The dairymaids themselves also use their famed manual dexterity and strength of grip to help him become fully upstanding in readiness for the day’s exertions.

Afterwards, once the home Help has dressed Grand Uncle Stagnant, put her own clothes on and left the dairymaids to get their breath back, so he can then go abut preparing the first few pints of Grand Uncle Stagnant’s breakfast. She then makes sure he is fit enough for his daily exercises routine where he walks – sometimes unaided – to the snug of The Pervert’s Appendage ready for opening time.

After a few pints, or so, of lunch, once he is able to walk again, Grand Uncle Stagnant then makes his way to the hayloft of the barn where the dairymaids will be waiting to give him his daily afternoon massage and full manipulation.

After which they will all, Grand Uncle Stagnant and the dairymaids, partake of a re-invigorating afternoon nap in order to prepare themselves for the ordeal of the stroll to The Pervert’s Appendage in order to mentally and physically prepare themselves for that evening’s all-village orgy in the Little Frigging village hall.

Friday, April 1, 2011

On the Use of Condiments in an All-Village Orgy


Of course, once you have your cake shop manageress garnished with a sprig of fresh parsley and ready to serve on the counter, it is just a matter of choosing what kind of condiments and salad dressing best suits the lady herself.

Many people thee days, especially when they are short of time – say near the end of a Saturday night all-village orgy at around the time Match of the Day is about to start, will often choose a proprietary brand of salad cream. However, those of us with a more discerning palate, often prefer our cake shop manageress with a liberal coating of freshly-made salad oil, ideally of our own recipe. This is especially the case if you are presenting your cake shop manageress on a bed of lettuce, for the delectation of other orgy-goers.

However, while Grand Uncle Stagnant swears that the best way to enjoy a brace of dairymaids is in the simplicity of the old-fashioned way of just salt, vinegar and a pickled egg. He does, however; warn against the used of the pickled onion in such a situation as it has a habit of rolling off the dairymaid and under the piano at the back of the village hall. Consequently, having to move the piano in order to retrieve the errant pickled onion, especially after a full-on dalliance with a brace of salted and vinegared dairymaids is more than can be expected of a man of Grand Uncle Stagnant’s age, especially so close to closing time at The Pervert’s Appendage.