Wednesday, October 28, 2015
Doing the decent thing
Would you believe that Playboy magazine has decided to stop displaying pictures of naked women? Some people might say it’s the passing of an era. The manager of the safari camp thinks it’s the dawn of a new dark age.
“It’s not the end of the world,” I said on seeing his grim face. “You’ll still be able to download nudie pics from the internet.”
“That’s not the point,” he replied glumly. “Putting the clothes back on naked women is like turning the clock back. How would you like it if tourists went back to thinking gorillas were big hairy monsters?”
“Well it might stop them asking for my autograph,” I remarked.
I personally think it’s a positive step for Playboy. It will now be possible for men who enjoy reading its articles to subscribe to the magazine without being thought of as compulsive oglers of tit-and-bum. Dentists will be able to put copies of Playboy in their waiting rooms. Fashionistas will be able to admire the stylish garments of fully-clothed women. Wankers will have to fantasize about undressing these women instead of getting it all on a plate. There’s no doubt these developments are an advance for human civilisation.
Loyal readers of this blog will know that I’ve written uncomplimentary things about Hef in the past, so it’s nice to pat the old codger on the back for a change. The decision was actually made by Scott Flanders, Playboy’s chief executive, who made the following observation:
“You're now one click away from every sex act imaginable for free. And so it's just passé at this juncture.”
Hef gave it his blessing at a board meeting. In the spirit of the new Playboy, let’s hope he will now keep his own clothes on in the mansion. He will still need a nurse to undress and bathe him, of course, but there’s no need for the playmates to witness these repulsive and macabre events.
Lest anyone should accuse me of being a prude, let me emphasize that disrobing can be an admirable deed in the right context. Consider the case of Inés Estévez, a 50-year-old Argentinian actress who was recently the victim of insulting remarks because of a somewhat revealing blouse she wore at a public event.
“20 years ago, I would have killed for that, but now I wouldn't even look at them,” wrote one anonymous cyber-bully in reference to her bosom.
Miss Estévez responded to these contemptible barbs by issuing the following statement:
“For your hunger for destructive critique, you will see [on my Facebook page] a recent photo of my breasts without silicone or photo-shopping. And yes, I'm proud of them.”
In the circumstances, I considered it appropriate to accept her invitation to view the items in question. Having done so, I have no hesitation in affirming that her jahoobies are superb for a woman of 50 (or any other age). There’s no point staring at breasts unless you can link it to some higher noble purpose.
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
She said she said
Yoko Ono has revealed that John Lennon wanted to sleep with men but was too inhibited to explore his queer side:
“John and I had a big talk about it, saying, basically, all of us must be bisexual,” she recalled. “And we were sort of in a situation of thinking that we’re not doing it because of society.”
In evaluating Yoko’s claim, let us note that she is 82 years of age and no less batty than she was in the sixties, when she was organising “bottomfests” in Germany. Her “big talk” with John might have occurred in a hallucination fuelled by Siberian ginseng. It’s well known, of course, that the Beatles’ manager was gay and probably wanted to sleep with all four of them. But Brian Epstein was a private man who was terrified of getting caught with his pants down in an era when “gross indecency” could land you in prison. His intimate encounters were conducted anonymously with rent boys and Mediterranean gigolos.
If John Lennon really wanted to sleep with a man he would surely have made a pass at his song-writing buddy Paul, who was pretty enough to be a gay beauty queen. Maybe he secretly wanted to. The only sure way of getting to the bottom of this mystery would be to ask our local voodoo witchdoctor to convene a séance where he would allow Lennon’s spirit to take possession of his body. Before you snort in incredulity, please note that he has successfully channelled a number of dead singers, including Elvis Presley and Perry Como. I can reassure Elvis fans that their idol had no desire to sleep with a man, although it’s quite likely he wanted to sleep with his mother. I’d say that was pretty normal for a white boy from Mississippi.
But enough of tittle-tattle. As a gorilla who prides himself on fair-dealing, especially in jungle fruit, I disapprove of telling tales about the dead. If you want to know something about show business performers, have the good manners to ask them directly, preferably when they’re still alive. In some cases, of course, the performers will answer the question before it’s been asked. Did Miley Cyrus wait for people to inquire whether she and Stella Maxwell were munching their mutual macadamias? Not a bit of it! The couple staged a bean-flicking show so the media could obtain the photographic evidence. There’s nothing like pre-emptive disclosure to kill all the malicious gossip.
To prove that she’s still fond of men, Miley is planning to give a concert with an all-male band that I’ve never heard of called The Flaming Lips. The gimmick will be that both she and the band will perform in the nude while being sprayed with a milky liquid that may, in fact, be milk. Obviously they are many questions one could raise about this event, but why should we ask them now? Miley will tell us everything we need to know before milk is dry on her shapely little boobies.
Wednesday, October 14, 2015
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.
Wednesday, October 07, 2015
A Peruvian prostitute is seeking election to the country’s legislature. Angela Villon Bustamante (for that is her name) made the following announcement on a popular TV show:
“Vote for me and I’ll make Congress a more respectable brothel.”
As a political slogan, I would say it’s the sex worker’s equivalent of Motherhood and Apple Pie. Unfortunately her official campaign video is in Spanish, so I can’t give you the details of her platform. I asked the manager of the safari camp whether he had a bilingual guest who could translate her manifesto into English – his inquisitive nature required me to fill him in on the details.
“What’s all this to you?” he asked with an insolent grin. “Are you thinking of inviting Miss Busty-man-tits to join your harem if she doesn’t get elected?”
“Your satirical remarks will not deflect me from my purpose,” I replied. “Do you have a Spanish-speaking guest or not?”
“Not at the moment,” said the manager. “But if anyone called Sancho Panza or Speedy Gonzales makes a booking, you’ll be the first to know.”
There are those who would say that candidates like Angela make a mockery of the democratic process. I would argue than human institutions need to be continually revitalised by fresh ideas. It’s incredibly boring for a gorilla to listen to politicians pontificate about the same old issues in the same old way. An experienced courtesan like Angela (she is 51 years of age) would have the ability to think outside the box and come up with new positions. And if necessary, she could think inside the box and adopt the same old positions. Prostitutes are flexible and can adapt to different situations.
Of course, Peru is a minor thicket in the political ecosphere and Angela is unlikely to make it much bushier. The big jungle is the USA, where everyone is currently mesmerised by Donald Trump and his campaign to be the next American president. It seems he got ahead of the pack by the ingenious tactic of saying the first thing that came into his head rather than applying careful forethought to his utterances. To the average voter, this made him sound “genuine” rather than an ignorant buffoon.
I knew Trump would be a force to be reckoned with when he said that a woman who had annoyed him had “blood coming out of her you-know-what”. It was astonishingly daring of him to imply he had intimate knowledge of her menstrual cycle. Presumably he did not, so it must have been an audacious bluff. He reminded me of a crazy baboon I once saw chasing a lioness and trying to bite her tail.
One can only imagine the grievous calamities his reckless behaviour might cause if he ever became president. His hair also resembles a dead furry animal, which means that other world leaders would not take him seriously and snigger behind his back. Clearly he must be stopped, but who is going to beat him now that Hilldog’s campaign is faltering?