Monday, October 24, 2011
Oxford blue
The Oxford Union keeps on inviting me to give them a speech, but I’m not the least bit interested. You can’t flatter a gorilla into performing on a sinking ship. Their desperation for celebrity speakers became evident when they hosted a lecture from Miss Katie Price, a 33-year-old English “glamour model” best known for the buoyancy of her bosom.
After eight minutes of stellar oratory, Katie ran out of things to say, prompting the organiser of the event to call for questions from the floor. A beefy rugby-playing student asked Katie who her best lover had been.
“It could be you, you look really fit up there – buff!” she answered. “I bet you’re too young for me,” she added ruefully.
Full marks to Katie for disqualifying a potential stud on account of his tender age – I give her credit for her principled approach to brazen whoring. Someone then asked her what she looked for in a man.
“If you wanna get ten men to stand up here naked, I’ll show you!” she declared.
Sadly, none of the lads in the hall accepted her generous offer of a free knob inspection. Some audiences are just too shy to participate. The conference ended amid raucous hooting and cheering, to which Katie responded with raunchy pouting and blowing.
The next logical step would be to make her an Oxford don, so she could oversee new degree programmes in Bawdy Repartee and Artistic Disrobing. A woman with her contacts could easily recruit qualified staff to give lectures in arse-wiggling and chest exposure. As the gifted students began to graduate, Oxford University could offer PhDs in groping and dogging.
The main downside of such an exciting development would be its effect on the traditional subjects. Young humans already need tremendous self-discipline to study the arts and sciences when they’re far more interested in rampant fornication. My old friend Dickie Dawkins would find the ranks of his followers severely depleted, as all but his most devoted groupies went off to learn about hoochie-mama-ism and the like. Although he earns plenty of money from books and TV appearances, having to cancel his lectures would be a crushing blow to his pride. You can’t salvage the ego of an intellectual by telling him to count the cash in his bank account.
Dickie could always hang out with his hairy cousins, of course. I’ve told him on many occasions that he’d be welcomed with open arms if he wanted to join my band. He could pontificate in the jungle to his heart’s content while we pretended to listen in rapt attention. A man who promotes the idea of primate consanguinity ought to be entirely at home in a community of apes.
Katie could hang out with us too if she wanted. It's quite possible she might find life in academia too dry and oppressive. Although we could never make her an honorary gorilla because of her artificial bust, we wouldn’t mind at all if she ran around naked and sexually harassed the local witch doctor. There’s no point having guests if you won’t let them do their own thing.
Labels: Dickie Dawkins, Hoochie-mama-ism, Katie Price, Oxford Union
Friday, April 10, 2009
An invitation from Oxford
Dr Whipsnade’s studious nephew has invited me to speak at the Oxford Union. At his suggestion, the committee have agreed to a debate on the following motion:
This house believes that apes have human rights
He wants me to propose the motion and has found a zoologist called Professor Fitzgibbon to second it – I believe he is human in spite of his name. Much as I hate to disappoint the extended family of my benefactor, I will have to decline. For one thing, I’m not actually sure I agree with the proposition. Apes do indeed have rights, but not necessarily human ones. Our value system has a number of important differences with that of our upright cousins. Where in the Rights of Man would you find anything about thrashing cheeky baboons or debagging nosey wildlife photographers? There are many rights in common, of course, but I don’t see why we should have to level down.
The other problem with these contests is that they are rarely decided by force of argument. Back in my circus days, I agreed to participate in a debate weighing the merits of the following highly dubious proposition:
The promiscuous man is a gorilla shaved of hair
Naturally I argued against the motion, which is pretty disparaging to gorillas when you consider it. I don’t know why humans have to bring us into their petty squabbles. If you must insult each other, point out your faults rather than making bogus comparisons with your primate cousins. These gratuitous references are deeply resented in the jungle.
Arguing in favour of the motion was an irritable young lady who obviously wasn’t keen on promiscuous men. She mentioned an occasion when a lecherous co-worker had indecently propositioned her after she had unwisely agreed to share a taxi with him.
“When we stopped outside my flat he put his hand on my knee and asked me how I liked my eggs!” she huffed in righteous indignation.
“You should have said 'unfertilised'!” I declared.
The women in the audience booed and hissed me, thinking that I’d made light of a serious incident. Yet had she uttered that one-word riposte in the voice of a petulant Joan Collins, the frisky fellow bothering her would have surely been thoroughly de-frisked. I should imagine the lead in his pencil would have gone from 4H to 3B in the blink of an eye. Such nuances, however, were lost on these angry females. All my subsequent attempts to mollify them proved futile, even though what happened in the taxi cab bore no resemblance whatever to the conduct of male gorillas. As far as they were concerned, I was a big hairy sexist ape.
It is possible, of course, that the students of Oxford University would give me a fairer hearing. Many of the females in the audience would be recently deflowered virgins, with the dreamy, slightly embarrassed eyes that distinguish such damsels. That ought to make them more receptive to my apish repartee. But any such enticement would be nullified by the inevitable presence of their smug, conceited boyfriends. Gorilla Bananas will not take his case to that overrated arena.
Labels: debate, human rights, Oxford Union, promiscuous men
