Wednesday, October 14, 2015
Precocious lechery
Shocking news arrives from England of an 11-year-old boy who had sex with his 20-year-old babysitter. Miss Jade Hatt, pictured above, was arrested and put on trial for having sexual relations with a minor. No words of praise are high enough for the boy’s father, who spoke in her defence:
“He is sex-mad,” he said of his son. “He would have been fully up for this experience and in many ways sees it as a notch on his belt and is totally unaffected by it.”
It must have been terribly difficult for him to admit that his 11-year-old son was a compulsive fornicator who treated his sexual conquests like baseball hits. One has to pity Miss Hatt for being lured by such a remorseless jackrabbit. The judge was clearly influenced by this testimony in sentencing her to two years of hard therapy:
“Having read everything before me, it was quite clear he was a mature 11-year-old and you were an immature 20-year-old so that narrows the arithmetic age gap between you,” he said.
Age can indeed be deceptive as an indicator of emotional and physical maturity. One look at Miss Hatt’s chubby little face told me she could have had sex with a baby panda and not realised she had done anything wrong. As for the boy, one can only guess how he got to be a sex maniac at the age of 11. It seems he is tall and manly for his age, which suggests a similarity with Homo Erectus, the prehistoric ancestor of humanity. Maybe he switched on his ancient Erectus genes by adopting their diet of raw meat and wild berries. If so, it’s a warning for all parents to feed their kiddies safe tinned food, like Heinz spaghetti in tomato sauce. Infants who eat like wild beasts end up behaving like them.
It’s interesting that the judge said nothing about giving the boy help. Maybe he is too proud of his naughty deeds to be counselled by a conventional therapist. I wonder if Tom Jones could be persuaded to have a word with him. Having slept with 250 women a year at the height of his fame, he should be able to convince the boy that he knows all the ins and outs.
In spite of his track record of rampant skirt-chasing, Tom has followed fairly strict rules of conduct throughout his life. One of them concerns swearing and farting, pastimes that he revelled in in his younger days:
“I used to go to a pub that was only for men,” he recalled. “The reason was so that we could tell dirty jokes and break wind… I don't think that bad language and breaking wind is right in front of ladies,” he explained.
Okay it’s not a code of behaviour that could convert a vagabond into a gentleman, but it might nudge the boy in the right direction if Tom carefully instructed him on the finer points. Education has to start somewhere in life.
Labels: farting, fornication, Homo Erectus, swearing, Tom Jones
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
Franny and Warnie
So it seems that two thousand Filipino traffic cops were forced to wear nappies because of the Pope’s visit. I suppose a few of them might have enjoyed the experience, but the vast majority must have felt like utter cretins. One imagines they were too ashamed to look their wives in the face after returning home from work. The Mayor of Manila issued this diaper decree so the road patrollers could attend to their duties without sneaking off to answer a call of Nature. Ensuring the smooth progression of the papal convoy was clearly too important a task to be jeopardised by anyone taking a leak.
It’s not known whether Pope Franny wore a nappy himself – it probably wasn’t necessary because his vestments are wide enough to conceal a bedpan. Realising that the traffic cops might blame him for their predicament, he shrewdly attempted to deflect their resentment by encouraging mothers to suckle their babies in the Sistine Chapel. The subtext intended for the nappy-wearing officers is as clear as the holy water in the papal douche:
“Yes, I made you feel like babies, but being a baby isn’t all bad – you get to suck on a woman’s titties.”
Now some people are saying that the current High Pontiff has relatively liberal views on birth control and recreational sex. While I’m prepared to believe that he’s less of a curmudgeon than ex-Pope Benny, he needs to do more to nail his colours to the mast. A good way of getting the message across would be to grant an audience to Shane Warne, the legendary Australian ball-spinner, who is probably the most famous fornicator of the Catholic faith. Warnie recently lived up to his reputation by seducing an Adelaide mother-of two, who was suitably dazzled by his tricky fingerwork:
“He’s very strong in the bedroom,” said 43-year-old Kim McGrath. “He asked me to keep my high heels on while he spanked me.”
What I admire about Warnie, apart from his masterly spanking technique, is that he arranged his date with Ms McGrath on Tinder. A celebrity who uses the same dating site as the average Bruce and Sheila is better, in my view, than a sleazy big shot who persuades a friendly pimp to get escorts for him. Ms McGrath was certainly thrilled to have attracted Warnie’s attention, although one cannot condone her spilling the beans to the press. It seems she couldn’t contain her excitement.
The relevant point for the Holy See is that both Warnie and Ms McGrath are single, so no adultery was involved. It gives Pope Franny the perfect opportunity to prove his liberal credentials by inviting Warnie to the Vatican for a wine and wafer party. In return for the honour of being blessed by the Holy Father, Warnie could meet him in the confession box and fill him in on all the juicy details. They’ll be playing cricket in Rome and Buenos Aries when Warnie’s deeds are revealed to the faithful!
Labels: cricket, fornication, nappy, Pope Franny, Shane Warne
Friday, June 15, 2012
Brazen blondes
The manageress of a dating site for adulterers is claiming that blond women are the most successful cheats:
“They know what they want and are seizing life by the horns,” declared Rosie Freeman-Jones of ‘Intimate Encounters’.
Does that mean life is a bull or a pair of cocks? The metaphors of a dating-site madam are unfathomable to a simple gorilla like me. In any case, I’m not convinced by her suggestion that blondes are a breed apart. She seems to have forgotten that women can dye their hair. For all she knows, the biggest trollops on her client list may be bottle blondes.
There is no solid evidence that men on the prowl for floozies prefer natural blondes. Consider the case of La Cicciolina, the Hungarian-Italian porn star, who famously offered her body to Saddam Hussein as a bribe for withdrawing his forces from Kuwait. Although her flowing locks were bleached, she never bothered to dye her dark eyebrows the same colour. Her admirers knew she was a fake blonde but they never gave two hooters about it.
As for the lady garden, my old friend Smacker Ramrod told me that even natural blondes tend to have pubic hair which is several shades darker.
“Yellow beavers look unnatural, even when they’re genuine,” he explained. “That part of a woman’s body is meant to be dark and mysterious.”
I took his word for it at the time, but now I’m not so sure. Could differences in lighting and shade account for the apparent mismatch? For many blondes, of course, the modern fashion for the depilating the cha-cha has made this question moot. There is very little mystery left in a woman’s undercarriage these days – it must be one of the most photographed areas of the human body.
It actually surprises me how conventional fornicating women are in their choice of cosmetics and dyes. I would have thought men who wanted to cheat on their wives were bored and looking for something different. Whatever you say about blond hair, it isn’t very different.
To my way of thinking, the enterprising hoochie should adopt a new and exciting look to entice men into her web of sin. A good place to look for ideas would be Star Trek (the original series), where Captain Kirk was continually putting his phaser on stun for some weird and wonderful alien chick. Although these damsels in distress were always humanoid, they usually had some exotic feature which made them especially alluring. I recall a particularly raunchy green one, who gave every indication of being a tigress in the sack.
The broader question, of course, is whether a dating site for cheaters is ethical. My own view is that it’s better for adulterers to commit adultery with other adulterers than deceive people genuinely looking for love. Such an arrangement is less likely to result in anguish, turmoil or dire revenge. Sometimes it’s safer to let the guilty wallow in their guilt than endanger the peace of the realm.
Labels: beavers, blondes, bottle blondes, dating-sites, fornication
