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Agony Uncle, actually

Thank you, fans. [All one of them. Ermintrude] My musings on life, liberty and the pursuit of harpyness, (‘hopelessness’. EdZilla) have struck a chord with the more forward-thinking of Homo Sapiens. [Don’t you mean, ‘Homo Erectus’? Ermintrude] They now are turning to me in their millions (Well, three at least. EdZ) for my advice on their own inner needs. [As in ‘kneed’ in the balls. Ermintrude] Bah! ‘Dear Worried’ of Broadmoor; or it soon will be if you keep on behaving the way you are! NEVER EVER send her a bunch of flowers unless its her birthday; or she’s just died. Otherwise it will be taken as an admission that you’ve been playing away from home. A bunch of fresia artistically positioned about a naked bird is great; they can’t get enough of that stuff. But after a couple of weeks; maybe a month at most, one’s attention to such detail begins to flag; often as not followed by one’s willy. Honestly, there’s nothing wrong with long-term relationships; some of mine could last for nearly three months; but in due course one’s interest begins to wane. It’s not called ‘Wander Lust’ for nothing. If you or your willy are ever minded to take a closer look at her best friend’s ‘position’ on ‘current affairs’, do make sure you give your bird a good seeing-to before disappearing for the weekend with your ‘Mates’; geddit? Condoms? [You’re pathetic! Ermintrude]

Just a thong at twilight

It would appear I have become a beacon of light in a dark world. (Watch you don’t get a beacon of light rammed up your naughty bits. EdZ) Various blokes are contacting MOI for my advice on matters of mattress etiquette. [Deluded fools. Ermintrude] The word ‘Guru’ springs to mind. Or rather ‘Gormless’ according to EdZilla. She and The Coven are amazed that there are still so many of us left out there – alive. They were certain most of ‘Homo Sensitivo’ had been given a good boot in the balls years ago. Apparently we’re a sub-branch of Neanderthal Man, who seems to have interbred with a lemming at some time. Cheeky cow! But my public calls. For mercy, as and when Valkerie & Co get their hands on them. I merely mention the words ‘role model’ and they all fall about laughing. According to ‘The Sisterhood’ a real woman would kill me. [With her zimmer. Ermintrude] To be absolutely fair, the odd one or two have indulged in some GBH as the relationship came to its inevitable end. (What? She finally got fitted for glasses? EdZ) I suppose it’s ironic that they always ended up throwing cups at me, when, initially, it had been the contents of their bra cups that had drawn me to them.

Pearls before Swine (Male Chauvinist Pigs)

Funnee; not. No, ‘Mr. Pleasure Machine’ of Ripley, you should not time your foreplay; well, not obviously. I suppose five minutes on the Fun Sacks, and ten on the clit should about do it. However, do try sometimes a furtive fondle in the back of the stairwell, before heading upstairs. No. ‘Monster Man’ from Glasgow, I was not talking allegorically! Yes, ‘Major Ramrod’, bananas do tend to disintegrate under pressure, but how else is she going to get her five a day? No, ‘Giant Fun Dispenser’ of South Wales, the etiquette is to shove her knickers in her mouth, not yours. ‘Brian’ of London poses a tricky one, but on balance, the vibrator should not be wired up to the mains – unless you’re both wearing rubber. ‘Dream Hunk’ of Paddington, if you were so rash as to let your well-hung best mate share her for a night of threesome reels, I’m not surprised she has developed a taste for your friend. ‘Disappointed’ of Watford Gap, size isn’t everything. ‘It’s not the meat it’s the motion that makes my baby rock.’ I think that’s a quote from Barbara Cartland; or Bessie Smith; or some hot tramp like that. How many of us have shared ‘Stan’ of Dover’s dilemma? On balance, if you don’t have any to hand, and she’s insisting on them, just use some cling film; or if there’s none about; tell her you’ve had a vasectomy. No, ‘Sam’ of Reading, a ‘paternity suit‘ is not what the groom wears to the wedding. I’m sorry, ‘Earnest’ of Liverpool, especially since you had such unfortunate complications, but the operation does not automatically entitle you to shag Jewish girls. Indeed, if their mother catches you, you really won’t have to worry about any ‘unfortunate complications’. No, ‘Andrew’ of Leamington Spa, in the light of the accompanying photograph, it will always set the metal detector off; perhaps retrofitting a smaller one might be safer. Of course, ‘The Coven’ are up in arms about my pearls of wisdom. Valkerie tells me that The Orgasm Police have already got hold of poor ‘Damian’ of East Cheam; well, the bits he won’t be needing anymore. And ‘Big Friendly Giant’ of Chelsea isn’t quite so big now. They’ve invented a magnet that can act on metal zips from up to ten feet away. Causing it to zip up at forty-three point seven mph, subject to weather conditions; necessitating between six and twenty stitches to the ‘Pleasure Rod’, depending on the state of play. Eeeek! [Guess where the tetanus injection goes? Ermintrude] Double Eeeek!

John J McCabe. Copyright.