Monday, August 18, 2008

Helping the aged

Political correctness has gone mad! A care home has been forced to apologise after a male member of staff granted an elderly resident her lifelong wish. This was to be served fish-and-chips by a man in skimpy underpants. Fearful of the reaction from the impotent middle-aged puritans who send their parents to such establishments, the director of the home admitted to “overstepping the mark” in permitting this act of charity. The moral obligation to grant an old woman her last wish was conveniently ignored. She wasn’t actually dying, as a matter of fact, but at the age of 90 such nuances verge on the technical.

My only criticism of this feisty old biddy is that the meal she ordered did not suit the waiter’s costume. A man in thongs should deliver dessert rather than main course – rhubarb crumble, strawberries and cream, or possibly even spotted dick. Fish-and-chips should be served by a saucy fellow in pirate gear, with a buttonless jacket hanging loosely over his bare torso and a gleaming cutlass dangling beside his britches. Before presenting the plate of deep-fried fare, he would pluck a juicy chip for himself, smearing it with salty sweat from his brow before munching it down in a single gulp.

“Best chips I’ve tasted since young Nellie Buxley greased me pistol in Port Royal!” he might say. “Sink yer choppers into them victuals, granny! It’ll give ye the energy ter chase a nimble cabin boy up the crow’s nest and strip him like an overripe mango!”

“Arrhaarrh, me old beauty!” he might add.

The aged, of course, are entitled to their fun. I once asked a male escort how he went about his work if the client happened to be an old lady.

“The hands and feet of a woman are the parts least affected by age,” he explained. “So I start by taking off my clothes and inviting her to feel the goods like fruit in a market stall.”

“An ingenious prelude,” I remarked. “Do they enjoy these examinations?”

“You bet they do!” he exclaimed. “The older a woman is, the more pleasure she gets from giving pleasure.”

“Female gorillas are just the same,” I said nodding. “And what of the feet?”

“A foot-massage goes down well, if you’ll excuse the pun. But I only suck her toes if she asks me to.”

“A wise precaution,” I observed. “She would surely recoil in horror if you tucked into her tootsies uninvited. No woman wants to be orally ravished by a foot fiend, whatever her age. I assume you consummate the service in the usual manner?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Switching off the lights and thinking of Joan Collins gets me through it.”

“Well quite,” I said. “Who else would one think of in such a situation? You clearly have it down to a fine art, my good man. Perhaps you should consider writing a manual for future practitioners of your worthy occupation.”

“I may just do that when I hang up my boots!” he chuckled.

We parted on amicable terms.

Old age is the fate of the fortunate, a time to discard the burdens of ego before making one’s peace with eternity. It’s a pity the old woman had to wait a lifetime to be served by a man in a thong, but the modest good humour of her ambition suggests a contented, unregretful spirit. To reconcile my readers to the inevitable sands of time, I shall hold another group meditation session this Wednesday at 2200 hours, Eastern Congo Time. I can’t guarantee to bring peace to your soul, but it should be more satisfying than a pot noodle and a wank in the long run.

Labels: , , ,

I hate the PC police and I hope that saucy minx keeps asking for entertaining presentation of her food.
"but it should be more satisfying than a pot noodle and a wank in the long run."

You're avin' a laugh.
The long run's full of wankers these days.

Good on the old lady, and all good luck to the game care assistant. Bollocks to the idea that old age is about sitting round in piss singing along to Max Bygraves records. If I manage to survive long enough I would hope to become a geriatric hooligan. Which I admit is a tad hypocritical given that I've just told my dad off *again* for climbing trees at his age (scrumping, I ask you!).
I love that little old lady. What a great role model for me and my daughters. But I have to disagree with your friend about the hands and feet.
Apparently you've lost none of you eloquence and humour during my hiatus away from the innerwebs GB.
I am poorer for having missed your snippets of wisdom, my loss indeed.
A foot fiend went after my boot last winter. He bumped into me, said he was sorry, and I said, Hey, no problem or something to that effect.

He got down on his knee and kissed my boot. (I swear I did not invite this behavior, and of course, he wasn't wearing a thong)

Also, I think thongs are undignified on a man of any age (no matter how buff he may be)

Anyway, long story short. A week later, the bar this all transpired in was hit by a crane in NYC.

True story.
A forced apology is like a coerced confession. I carries no moral weight.
I've heard that many elderly women do experience a resurgence of their sex-drive after a fallow period of taking more interest in knitting, Woman's Weekly and Emmerdale.

Granny-loving is almost the last taboo - remember the derision that was heaped upon young Mr Wayne Rooney?? - and this prejudice should be dispelled from our so-called "civilised" society forthwith.
i've something to say, but it sounds really wrong, so i won't. maybe later.
Retirement homes are a hidden fortress of randiness, from what I've heard from distrubed contemporaries.

They shove their widowed parents off to Dunnaitonalservice, only to find them remarrying some chirpy Cockney who then becomes the chief beneficiary of their will as well as their wiles.

It's the Carry On film that never got made.
Ms Dgny: Well said, but I fear the home will be less adventurous in future.

Rupert: Meditation can bring great bliss. Don't talk until you've tried it.

Kevin: If I were you I'd let him build a tree house. Max Bygraves is still alive at 85 - maybe he's into rock-and-roll now.

Mary: I suppose women who've spent a lifetime working with their hands and feet don't end up paying for gigolos.

Zuba: Thanks mate! I hope married life is suiting you well.

Trish: I'll be thinking of your feet all day now. Damn, I bet they're cute!

Kyknoord: True enough, but what concerns me is that future requests of this nature will be turned down.

Gadjo: I doubt Mrs Cake will ever have a fallow period. The granny that Rooney boinked wasn't that old, was she? I wonder if there's a picture of her somewhere.

Treespotter: You may as well get it off your chest. These comments threads are really a form of group therapy.

Mr Boyo: Dirty old ladies was a concept ahead of its time for the Carry On menagerie of dirty old men, big-boobed dolly birds and frustrated fishwives not getting any. Interesting contemporaries you've got - are any of them probate solicitors?
Mr Bananas . Have you seen the film Coccoon....believe me there is nothing as alarming as a frisky pensioner.... that holds true for Joan Collins as well
Oh, what a good story! A very creative wish; one of those that almost deserves to win those 'make a wish' competitions ... lol. No harm done; I'm glad the old woman got her wish :-)
But you're right; a sailor's outfit WOULD go better with fish and chips...
A elderly relative died of a heart attack in such a home. Not so strange you might think... except that he was one of four men in a community of 20 or 30 women and he was not in his own bed when he popped his clogs...

I visited another relative recently and was most bemused to watch her firmly squeezing the buttock of the young male care assistant who was helping her back to the seat after taking her to the toilet.

I tend to agree with trish about thongs on a man (although Ruf did look quite sweet in mine :)). A nice tight pair of those fitted boxers would be far more flattering to both the arse and the lunchpack.

As to Joan Collins... She is something of a role model. If I can find myself the recipient of the attentions of a man half my age in 20 years time, I shall count myself extremely fortunate :)
It's a complete outrage Jape,
shocking. Have you seen the state of those peas? Dry as a fucking bone. Disgraceful. I blame the EEC.
I believe senior citizens may have much more to offer in the sack than many would think.

Hence the popular phrase, 'the old ones are the best'.
It seems that the rest home's mistake was fulfilling the wish in the communal dining area, thereby allowing some busy-body to see and make a fuss. Had the wish-granters been smart, the meal would've been served in private and no one would be the wiser.

Well, that's me then. I'm jumping off that fridge-freezer before they take me into some old people's home. I thought the whole point of getting old is so that lively young men could don ladies thongs under see-through plastic aprons and serve me fish and chips and if they've put a stop to that well then what's the point of it all?!?
Ah, I think you're right: Wayne's squeeze was probably younger than most of us here. But stick up a picture or her if you can find one, it's all grist to the mill.

I've never seen Cocoon, but it clearly used the wrong sort of grannies: the sanitised type designed to appeal to a Disney-opiated audience. Carry On Without Your False Teeth Then, It's Actually Better That Way would feature Liz Smith off of The Royle family and June Brown off of EastEnders.
The old bird should have been allowed that small thrill. re Joan Collins...I'm all for her marrying a man thirty years younger but on the other hand I wonder what she looks like without all that makeup. Must be a bit of a fright.
Fish-and-chips should be served by a saucy fellow in pirate gear, with a buttonless jacket hanging loosely over his bare torso and a gleaming cutlass dangling beside his britches.
Seems like you thought LONG and HARD about this possible scenario.
Is there an underlying story here, Mr. Bananas, me matie?
Beast: Mark my words, they'll be a growing niche market in the porn industry, Beast. I think you should figure it into your retirement plans.

Eve: I hope your appetite will be as healthy at her age!

Mrs Cake: I assume your relative was on Viagra, which isn't good for men with a heart condition. Thongs are silly alright. Why would anyone want to sweat their crown jewels in a pouch? Don't you prefer men naked, Mrs Cake?

Charlie: I'm all in favour of petit pois, they stay sweet and juicy. And don't talk about the defunct EEC like that ninny B.P. Perry (blog linked).

Lord Likely: Are you talking about the nutsack, milord? That is rather surprising.

Randall: Good idea. She could have groped him as well and no one would have been the wiser.

Mzungu Chick: Don't worry, Miss Chick, you'll find a young man to keep the flush in your cheeks.

Gadjo: It could breath new life into the Carry On franchise. What about Barbara Windsor? She's the right age for it now.

Emma: I wouldn't be surprised if she looked better without the makeup. Women shouldn't be scared of a few wrinkles, it's not like being a dried prune.

Joe: I once met a pirate impersonator in Portsmouth who pestered me for an audition in my circus act. I told him the clowns would get overexcited.
When I am ninety, I shall be fed strawberries and champagne (with a little viagra), by two buxom girls dressed as wenches!
Back of the net!
That image of a saucy old pirate in a retirement home made me think of Keith Richards. I shall certainly have a young maaaaan or three around when I am in my dotage, and squeeze their buns frequently, it's good for the arthritis. If I had Joan Collins' money I'd have them now.
Barbara Windsor, you're right again. The great Joan Sims and Hattie Jacques are no longer with us, but what about Fenella "Carry On Screaming" Fielding? She'd be up for it.
"... a time to discard the burdens of ego before making one’s peace with eternity"

You been at the Reader's Digest again?
i don't want thongs anywhere near my meals. or desserts. they're a vile undergarment...designed only to make you hate your body even more than you already do. "you" being "me". but i'm guessing you got that.

on an unrelated note - every time i try to meditate i fall asleep.
Fenella Fielding - Yes! Dame Helen of the Mirrens might be persuaded to slum it too.

GB, no lawyers involved in this case.
Dr Maroon: Make sure they've fitted the pacemaker first, Dr, watching football is even more exciting that being fed by wenches at that age.

Lady Daphne: Keith Richard's face needs a good ironing, but his girlfriend is probably too shy to squeeze his leathery buns. Perhaps she needs some advice from an older woman.

Gadjo: Yes indeed! I published a picture of Ms Fielding in this post.

Ulaca: It's from the Sanskrit version of Reader's Digest. The Latin version said: "A time for confessing your sins to a priest and booking your ticket to heaven".

Kara: The one-piece Baywatch swimsuit is your garment, Missy. And try meditating when you're feeling alert, possibly after you've had a snooze.

Mr Boyo: Did Dame Helen ever appear in a Carry On film? Amanda Barrie (Cleo) would be higher on my casting list.
Served by a 'saucy fellow in pirate gear, with a buttonless jacket'! What on earth are you talking about, Mr Banana? Surely a salty old sea-dog with a pipe full of shag and a seagull's feather in his ear?
"A pot noodle and a wank."

This is what actually passes for meditation in Gateshead, so please don't knock it.
By the way Mr Bananas, I'm on for a spot of meditation Wednesday so count me in.
It definitely sounds more satisfying than a pot noodle and a wank to me!
I've only ever tried pot noodles the once and it was quite disgusting I must say, as for the 'wank' - well too much information there to divulge - I may get banned from your site!
At least she didn't request that the fish-and-chips man be outfitted in Borat's swimming costume.
Wow, you'd think the poor old lady asked for a ride on the guy instead! The irony of a world where sex is used to sell crap 24/7 and real moments of lustful joy are frowned upon.
This Wednesday night group meditation thing, G.B. I've searched to find eastern Congo time but they are shit with an e so what time will it be here (bst)? I'll risk it for a biscuit.
Can Bass 1: Have you heard of something called 'a stripogram'? I think my character might work a little better in that piece of theatre.

Rupert: I meant no disrespect to your ancient spiritual practices, which obviously date from the period in which Brendan Foster was winning races on TV.

Mzungu Chick: You'll never be banned here, Miss Chick, whatever you confess to. Send me an e-mail if you're serious and we'll work something out.

XL: Borat had a number of costumes, didn't he? But any of them would have ruined her appetite, so your point is valid.

Letty: I blame the children in this case.

Dr Maroon: GMT + 1 hour, Dr, but you can start without me if you're impatient. It's mostly a telepathic thing.
I am SO taking this story to work at the gimcrack with me today!!!

It's going in the next newsletter too.

one of our patients was walking past me with his shoelace undone the other day and I knelt to retie it. he had to sit down afterwards because it made his knees wobbly. now every time the old gents come near me they all seem to be trailing loose shoelaces
That's the kind of old woman I aspire to be, though I'd want to sample the goods from time to time, in case my eye sights fails.
Having my Cake said:
"A nice tight pair of those fitted boxers would be far more flattering to both the arse and the lunchpack."

Exactly right! I agree.
LOL!!! You are such a riot GB!!!

As for the toe-sucking thingy, i must say that i am not a fan! Because i feel so sorry for the guy sucking my dirty toes (let's face it, who's toes are really all that clean), i can barely enjoy it!
Lady Mirren only appeared in my Fantasy Carry On listings. And so much more.
If that's what being 90 does to you - include me out!
Sorry I missed the bukkake session... I am sure it was fun! On the subject of sucking old people feet... I would be worried about corns and verrucas meself.
Nursemyra: You'd make a lot of men go wobbly, Nursie! Got any good costumes?

Clea: Yes, I'm sure texture becomes more important at that age.

Trish: That sounds a lot more masculine!

Sabrina: How can anyone judge unless you put up a picture of your feet, Saby? I'm sure your toes would taste great after washing and seasoning, like any fresh food.

Mr Boyo: Ah yes. You must have seen The cook, the thief, his wife and her lover.

Pi: Each to her own.

Mutley: You haven't yet missed it, but contrary to your suggestion it has nothing to do with sexual fluids.
Nice to see some kind male carer are prepared to go the extra mile in good spirit... Pity the OAP in question had to wait so many years for a little bit of buttock action. There's obviously no satellite TV at the nursing home.
On a serious note, I visit an old friend of mine in a nursing home who has Alzheimer's. What do they get? Well, I'll tell you. They get geezers in waistcoats with an accordion who, knowing they have a captive audience belt out," Tulips of fucking Amsterdam" for four hours 'cos it's the only fucking song they know. Mind you, wouldn't anybody given that these people have the memory of a goldfish?
Yesterday, a young man wearing nothing but a calico apron flailed my naked flesh with a loosely-bound bunch of sticks. (I am staying at a Thalassotherapie Institute for a week, detoxing). In this way, I hope to hold back time a little.
mrs pouncer.

You dirty bitch!
Ariel: Maybe seeing it on TV led to her wish to do it herself. I just hope it didn't adversely affect her digestion.

Nigel: That's actually a touching story. Hearing your favourite song over and over again would be quite blissful if it sounded fresh on each occasion.

Mrs Pouncer: I do hope you succeed, Mrs Pouncer. Are you also a fan of the massage? There are a number of natural oils that might agree with you. Lovely to hear from you, as always.

Mabel: Is that you, Nigel? Or are you a refugee from Mr Hutton's site posting under one of your 17 aliases.
Who is this Mabel, and why does she decry me? Thanks to my sterling work in the Hammam, I am the opposite of dirty, with not even the merest particle of grime; and the toxins are pouring from me in a rainbow-hued gush. Jealous, probablement.
Mrs Pouncer? I'd thought you'd gorn. And why pray have you deleted your recent posts from your website? (Not that I was looking there, you understand, I just heard about it from a friend).

Back to the subject now: Helen Mirren. Charlotte Rampling's another one.

Shit. Have you sussed out my syntax?
(Gadjo baby! I am being held at a spa taking the cure, but there is wifi, so all is not lost. Come to my page xxx)
I am not a little jealous, probablement, to find you here Mrs Pouncer.

This tells me I need a fucking holiday. Probablement? Absolument.
Maroon, you old charmer. Join me in the thermal baths; hot saline is probably the answer to all your ills. That and some oil-assisted manipulation. And at a bargain rate, too!
I agree, fish n chips should indeed be served by a young 'Captain Birdseye' type. Although I don't eat fish I would still accept the plate.
Hello Joanne, I see you've changed your profile picture! I suppose you could give the fish to your cat and let the old sea-dog admire the pussy.
Lol. That ninety year old has spirit. May she live to be a hundred! May the retirement home director die of loneliness. PC is for cowards.
Post a Comment

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

Follow my blog with Bloglovin Follow my blog with Bloglovin