Wednesday, October 08, 2014
Size and shape
A journalist has disrespectfully implied that Queen Victoria had a huge arse by disclosing the size of her knickers. The aforementioned undergarment was recently put up for auction with a reserve price of two thousand pounds sterling. It was worn by the monarch in her dotage and its waist is allegedly 52 inches.
I don’t know who the current owner is, but he should have donated it to a museum rather than allowing a bunch of undie-collectors to haggle over it. Anyone who would pay thousands of pounds for a big pair of panties cannot be trusted with a big pair of panties. When I think of how the royal bloomers might be defiled, it makes me want to thump my chest.
In discussing the size of Queen Victoria’s behind, one should never forget that she was widowed at a relatively young age. A big bum can be a great comfort to a bereaved matron who might suddenly feel weak at the knees. If she has to sit down on the nearest hard stool, her meaty rump will cushion the load.
Her buttocks were believed to be moderately fleshy when Prince Albert was alive. This helped to keep the sparks flying in their marriage, enabling them to produce a brood of nine. Having served the nation so effectively, the royal arse was entitled to expand when no longer required for duties of state.
The booty of Jennifer Lopez has received a much kinder press, possibly because people are scared of her. Latino women have a fiery reputation, so pundits likely to cross her path have praised her backside to cover their own ones. Even Diddy the rapper has jumped on the bandwagon by describing the Lopez butt as “a work of art”. He used to be her daddy-boo, so maybe he still dreams of kissing it. A witty plastic surgeon could have ruined his flattery by saying “Yes, and I’m the artist!”. J-Lo might have blown a fuse, but she would have been safe to handle with a pair of rubber gloves.
No one knows what Jennifer’s bottom will be like when she’s eighty years old. Maybe it will be big and round, or maybe it will just be big. A man who might be qualified to answer this question is William Shatner, who has personal experience of the relationship between age and body-shape. When asked how he had evolved since his first voyage on the Enterprise, he said:
“I’m a little more rotund than I was when I was doing the series but roundness is a good shape. It’s part of nature. My tip is to run as fast as you can.”
Shatner says he is open to offers for further Star Trek appearances, but could he still play Kirk? Maybe a clever writer could dream up a story where Jim is in a fat farm on Bulbous Major and solves a Vulcan murder mystery. Being too heavy to move around, he would achieve this through pure deductive reasoning while lying on a massage table. Spock would be green-blooded with envy.
Labels: arse, buttocks, Jennifer Lopez, knickers, Queen Victoria, rump, Star Trek
Monday, April 16, 2012
The Love Butt
A story from Miami is making me happy and sad at the same time, which is quite an achievement for an everyday human tale of yearning and fulfilment. I don’t usually experience such a complex mix of emotions unless mating elephants are involved.
It concerns a 43-year-old divorcee called Jenny Fizgerald, who in spite of her name is a sultry, olive-skinned Latina (see picture). Believing that her flat backside was discouraging potential suitors, Jenny forked out 10,000 dollars for buttock-reshaping surgery, which gave her a delectably peachy rump, very ripe for the plucking (see picture). Shortly afterwards, she got engaged to a 42-year-old hombre called Carlos, who has the face of a compulsive booty-ogler.
“I know my new bum made this happen!” said Jenny delightedly. “And I know Carlos loves it too – he’s always staring.”
Is that all he does? Perhaps Jenny’s ladylike modesty prevented her from mentioning more tactile forms of appreciation.
"Her bottom is why I noticed her in the first place,” agreed Carlos. “Without it we might never have spoken."
He's got a point. A fabulous arse is a great ice-breaker. Whenever my old friend Smacker Ramrod saw an attractive woman at a party, he used to circumnavigate her discreetly before attempting to make conversation. A clear mental picture of her posterior helped him find the right words and focus on the task at hand. Some may call such behaviour sexist, but let us acknowledge a simple truth: most women would rather have their bottom admired than listen to a lot of guff about the price of oil or the G-12 summit. I’m sure that’s even true of female politicians like Hilldog and Frau Merkel.
So why did this story make me feel happy? I should hope it’s obvious. Gorilla Bananas cares about his human cousins and wants them to achieve their dreams. It tickles the cockles of my heart that Jenny has transformed her life by acquiring a pert behind.
“I finally feel great and sexy about myself,” she said.
I bet she does. Full marks to Jenny for realising that it’s never too late to boost your self-esteem by improving the texture of your tush. It thrills me that her delectable derrière solicited a marriage proposal from a man she deemed worthy of the honour. And although I’m not 100% certain about Carlos, I can’t fault his taste in tail, or deny the happiness his regard for the rear has brought. In the words of the Indian chief whose name I forget, my heart soars like a hawk!
And yet there is also sadness.
As a gorilla who lives in the wild, nestling snugly in the bosom of Mother Nature, I can’t condone artificially enhancing the bottom by cutting and sucking and pumping it. If Jenny had told me about her plans for cosmetic surgery, I would have invited her to stay with my tribe for a couple of months. There is no better way of getting your butt in shape than living like a gorilla – our tree-climbing, kick-dancing, flesh-massaging lifestyle goes hand-in-hand with a rock-solid rump. Some of us had buns of steel before steel was invented.
Labels: arse, bottom, marriage, rump, tush
