Wednesday, October 31, 2007

The Halloween experience

We don’t do anything special for Halloween at the safari camp – the African night is spooky enough without people impersonating witches and hobgoblins. Not that ladies of the broom-straddling persuasion are necessarily a bad thing in this day and age. When I was in the circus, quite a few women who imagined they were witches sought to involve me in their schemes. Believing that a talking gorilla must be some kind of wizard, they befuddled me with talk of hexes, spells, potions and salubrious tonics. I remember being accosted by a striking young minx who was interested in recipes for male aphrodisiacs in the pre-Viagra era.

“I am surprised your gentlemen friends have need of such stimulants,” I remarked.

“It keeps them going when I’m digging my nails into their back,” she explained helpfully.

I nodded thoughtfully. I should imagine that wildcat sex is something that men fantasize about a great deal without realising what a shock to the system it is to have your flesh clawed. Many a young male lion would doubtless concur. We gorillas have little experience of such matters, of course. Those who require further enlightenment should contact
Ms Belinda Swallows, the latest sex-blogging sensation.

Halloween is an occasion I enjoy when staying at Dr Whipsnade’s London residence. What fun it is to answer the doorbell and yell “treat or treat!” at the costumed kiddies before they can utter a word! Many of them drop their bucket of goodies and run off in terror, but I always chase after them and carry them back home for a dessert of fresh mangoes. They usually stop screaming when I reassure them as follows:

“Calm down, by God, we gorillas are vegetarian! You have far more to fear from your own kind! You will be free to leave once you have collected your booty!”

I can say, in all modesty, that I get along with human infants like a house on fire. Bewildered parents often ask me why I have a much better rapport with their offspring than they do. The answer is quite simple: I speak to them as I would speak to an adult; I confide in them on matters of substance; and I take a genuine interest in their social lives. The last item is a particular fascination. I confess to having a weakness for vulgar rhymes and can never resist asking children about the latest playground ditties. The following verse was once recited for my pleasure by nine-year-old twin sisters:

When Suzie was a teenager, a teenager Suzie was,

And she went: "Ooh, ah, I lost my bra, I left it in my boyfriend's car!

Apparently this is quite well-known, but I had never heard it before and hooted with mirth, much to their delight. Feeling a little abashed, I decided to add a few cautionary words:

“Suzie was indeed a feckless and foolish young woman,” I declared. “When you acquire brassieres of your own, I am sure you that will remove them only in the presence of a doctor, or perhaps a gentleman who has professed his love for you after months of assiduous wooing!”

“Euurrgh!” piped one of the little ladies. “I’m never taking my bra off for a gentleman!”

I rubbed my chin as I reflected on her words. “
Jenny McCarthy does favour that approach,” I conceded, “but I would advise you to postpone fixing your sartorial habits until the moment of reckoning arrives.”

Chatting to human infants of a certain age is a most refreshing experience. They speak their minds frankly and never fail to draw one’s attention to interesting possibilities.

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i want to know just what, exactly, is "wildcast" sex?
You know what's scary? King Leopold chopping off hands for rubber, and H.M. Stanley shooting Luba chiefs in Katanga. How about Matamata and Pilipili being broadcast all over the Congo to spread Belgian propaganda? That's scary. What about Patrice Lumumba disappearing? Thats scary. Don't tell us about wildcast sex and Jim Carey's long hair.
As you have a penchant for the rhymes of the playground, I'll note for you my son's latest offering:
Micky Mouse in his house
Pulling down his trousers,
Quick Mum! Shoot his bum
With a massive rocket gun

Did it stir your mirth?
I recall the words of Capt Peter Beauregarde D'Arcy Deakin, late of the 5th Baloochi Lancers (disbanded): "Congress wither lady is seedy and degrading. Makes yer feel in needer a good scrubbin with wirewool and dettol. Otherwise yer not doin' it right." Carry on.
I think it actually goes:

Ooh, ah
Ooh, ah
Lost my knickers
Lost my bra
Found them in my true love's car
Ooh, ah
Ooh, ah
I've resisted the urge to click on Miss Belinda's link, but I'll be damned if I can resist the urge to tell you this one, recited to me in some embarrassment years back by my very own, closet Victorian mother, who could not help but appreciate the cleverness of the rhyme:

Marmaduke beside the barn
Got his girlfriend in a fix
He says damn instead of darn
Ain't it cute? He's only six.

Great, isn't it? And just think: that's been around since the thirties. Tried and true.
Kara: I never realised you read my posts so carefully as to check the tags. You make me feel like Moses. I don't know what 'wildcast' sex it, but I would guess it involves Ernest Borgnine.

World Champ: All that stuff happened south of the Congo River long before my time. I'm a north bank ape.

Kitty: Involving mother is a stroke of genius! But the last line doesn't work. How about: Sprinkle it with powder?

Mr Boyo: Is this obscure military man related to you? My only point of reference is the Deakins from Taff's End, Shropshire.

Peach: There are quite a few variations involving kickers. Sometimes they get left in the car instead of the bra.

Mary: That's cute, but "getting girlfriend in a fix" is a euphemism that wouldn't be required in today's playgrounds.
GB, he is the same! A close family friend. I schooled with his son and heir, Otto. I'm planning on publishing his memoirs on my web blog, if you're interested.
What a shame to have to keep your boobs under wraps during sex. But this is where the small breasted woman finally gets her revenge.

You spend your whole adolescence wishing for bigger boobs and envying the girls with massive knockers. Then twenty years on your little bumps have survived breast feeding, pregnancy and gravity and look as good as the ever did whilst your large chested sisters have to keep their bras on during sex to avoid them getting in the way of the business ends.

Life is cruel.

Its a horror movie about a gorilla that gets *GASP* married.

Or something...
i like saggy, wrinkly, pancake boobs... they're better than those that aria has which you so creatively cut out from the pic you posted.
well, since it's the only word positioned directly above the "comments" link...i'm not sure it could be helped.

but i don't like your answer. "sex" and "ernest borgnine" shouldn't be in the same sentence.
You do have some strange friends. Who are the two plumpies? They look familiar.
She was only a bar maid's daughter... No I can't.
Good post, ape. I love a bit of scratching and biting myself. It's just something we human females like to do when caught up in the moment. ;)
Mr Boyo: I'll look forward to reading it. It sounds like a project that's been gestating for a while.

Misssy: I agree that small tits are underrated; they make a woman look more virginal.

Scottish Tourist Board: I don't think it's about gorillas. It was just a sensational title to dupe people.

Raffi: Is that her name? Her picture was cut when I found it.

Kara: Ernie's crazy eyes have excited many women. It's the 'ravished by a beast' fantasy.

Pi: I didn't choose her for her plumpies. Honest.

Susanne: Thank you, Susanne. I hope you enjoy receiving the odd bite in the fleshy parts as well.
are you really in africa??
Ha-Ha! An ever enjoyable post, GB. I don't know any other creature on earth who manages to bring sex into just about everything. :-)
I think that porn star is Cori, no? I used to have a big girl-crush on her.

The pic of Jenny's boobs is hot..

Thanks for knowing the mother-whore was not me.

As usual your advice is sound and indeed relevant. I think you would make an excellent father or indeed kindly Uncle. Are you in reality either of these things? I have two children myself and often pass on your words of wisdom to them, but I dare not let them view your blog - as you can imagine.
Actually - you scamp - I meant the bottom (photo) man in droopy bermudas and blonde lady.
Here...just nursing a sugar hangover from trick-or-treating with 2 small children. You should have a fine Halloween bash one year.
Hannah: Where else would I be?
Send me an e-mail if you want to have a private chat.

Suzan: Am I really that sex-obsessed, Suzy? I think it's more a question of sex following me than me following sex.

Miss Smack: Hello Ms Smack, I don't know who Cori is, but I knew that you were too horny to charge for it! For the right man, of course!

Mutley: I should be delighted for your children to call me 'Uncle Bananas', although I already feel like an uncle to many of my readers. One day I might adopt a human.

Pi: Ah! Well I don't believe she's named her plumpies.

Liv: That's lovely, I hope they wore fetching costumes.
Booty in the US means something quite different. On no account must you ever refer to going trick-or-treating as making booty calls.

I suspect though, as a gorilla, you'd be happy sinking your teeth into either definition, vegetarian or not.
I once knew a chap who liked a spot of wildcat sex.

Needless to say, he was barred from the local zoo. But still he persisted, until the wildcat in question tore of his penis and ate it.

That is possibly the most erotic story I have ever heard.
my friend billy
had a six foot willy
he showed it to the girl next door
she thought it was a snake
so she hit it with a rake
and now its only two feet four
A man who thinks he's a gorilla. A man who thinks he's a secret agency administrator. When we get to that place where they IV drip us the good stuff, wanna be partners?
Why don't gorillas wear bras?
Sam: Good point, Sam. In America, I would have to choose my words more carefully.

Lord Likely: The cat in question couldn't have been very hungry. The human penis is barely a snack.

Dr Maroon: A classic! In some versions, the willy starts off at 10 or even 100 feet!

Yawn: I'm not sure what you're insinuating, but a gorilla does not share share his IV drip with anyone.

Mungo Borealis: Their tits aren't big enough. Mungo Jerry will be a hard act to follow.
I am pleased Halloween isn't followed here in Australia, though the amusement factor is far beyond that of Christmases.
Mungo Jerry lives over the road from me. How cool is that !
not at all
I can out celebrity neighbour you
I love kids of 10 or 11, so refreshing in their honesty and certainty that they know just as much as an adult. Within two years they become teenagers and their honesty becomes downright rudeness and the certainty turns to megalomania in that they know everything about everything.
Rosanna: Halloween wouldn't be spooky enough in springtime.

Beast: Unless you've discussed the lyrics of 'In the Summertime' with him, no one is impressed.

The Hitch: Max Bygraves! What a star!

Mrs Cake: Well they probably do know more about certain things. The trick is to get them to listen to advice in the areas where they know less.
They ARE just supposed to deliver your mail. I'd have thought it's an offense for them to open other people's mail...
ooops, comment meant for later post :- )
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