Wednesday, January 29, 2014

The Beast of Little Frigging


As with many rural villages and hamlets where the pubs stay open for as long as the patrons remain vertical, the area around Little Frigging has been the home of many sightings of strange creatures and mythical beasts. This does not include the many horror stories about Old Feebletrousers emerging from the swamp and/or the duck pond after a particularly well-refreshed evening of philosophical debate in the snug of The Pervert’s Appendage. Nor, of course, does it count the frequent sightings of creatures emerging from the local lawyer swamps in search of fresh litigation.

Beyond the above, there have also been various sightings of strange creatures up on the Little Frigging moors. There is talk of strange dark-pelted creatures that lurk in the shadows ready to pounce on unsuspecting travellers and tourists. However, these days, Grand-Uncle Stagnant finds that waiting out in the typical heavy drizzle on the moors plays havoc with his many ailments. Consequently, he prefers to stay indoors as much as possible. If he is not in the snug of the village pub, then Grand-Uncle Stagnant is usually in the hayloft with a brace of dairymaids. The dairymaids both often eager to learn all the secrets of the erotic arts he has witnessed, sampled and – often – made up on his travels around the world. As well as his frequent visits to the seedier parts of Huddersfield.

However, when the ladies of the Little Frigging Knitting and Wine Appreciation Society gather on a cold dark night, it is not the monsters that lie in wait out on the moors they talk of. It is tales of the monsters that lurk in the well-filled gentleman’s region of Strom Thighhammer’s undergatherings they discuss. The ladies all know only too well what monster lurks there and just what it takes to make it rise up from its sleep to take them in the night.


[Books by David Hadley are available here (UK) or here (US).]

Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Perverted Arts or Sciences? - A Ponderthon


Many perverteers, when in-between dalliances, are apt to ponder the great philosophical quandaries of perversion. And why not, providing you are not impeding, say, an assistant librarian from achieving closure?

One of the great imponderables of both practical and theoretical perversion is the question about whether perversion itself is an art or a science.

There are those who would point to the aesthetic considerations necessary when, say, disporting a brace of dairymaids next to an apricot crumble and say that proves that perversion is an art. However, there are those who would say the correct way to approach, for example, an assistant librarian whilst wearing shin-pads and holding the watermelon the putative perverteer must consider several variables. Such as the angle of attack, the wind direction and how long it is until either:

a./ closing time,


b./ when the footie is on the telly.

Which is as much of a science as it is an art.

However, there is fascinating work underway in theoretical and applied perversion in the laboratories at the University of Little Frigging (formerly the cowshed at Trouser-Quandary smallholding). Here, our research into both the Rude and the Naughty particles essential for any perverse reaction to take place is undoubtedly a science. Obviously, it is one that places a lot of stress on the elbows, as well as using a large quantity of fresh strawberries, which many will also regard as an art.

It is my contention, therefore that the perverse arts and sciences are both arts and sciences. Yet they are also not arts and sciences. This because there is something in the perverse act, even if it only involves a clerical gentleman, a campanologist and a bunch of spring onions, that goes beyond the limits of both arts and sciences. Venturing into some other realm we are only now beginning to grasp the wot of.

I'm sure that, in the near future, we will return to discuss more of this fascinating subject as and when I can be arsed.