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| Letters From London |
| Humorous Views on London Culture, Royals, Gossip and Politics |
The Harder They Come, The Harder They Fall - 13 July 2009
Stem cell sperm…ah no more men then? No more: water-proof mascara, 8” killer heels, thongs,
enormous fake breasts/lips, liposuction, ladettes, dowries, Katie Price (aka Jordan), ‘does my
bum look big in this?’
No: arranged marriages of children to bearded 75-80 year old strangers, being covered from
head to toe to finger tips, continuous confinement, being raped, beaten, stoned to death,
ostracised by society due to genital mutilation gone wrong, the Bible, abortion, rohypnol, hos ‘n
bitches, slavery, machete wielding children, Lars Von Tier, Woody Allen, Hugh Hefner, Stalin.
But more domestic free time: the end of mismatched sock balls gathering dust under the bed,
wet towels on the bed, toe nail clippings in the most unlikely places, empty milk containers in the
fridge, half-eaten pizza slices hidden under newspapers, jam lids down side on the sofa,
magazines strewn on the bathroom floor, lights on in all and every empty room, “Hey Babe,
where’s my belt, cufflinks, comb, wallet, grey pinstriped trousers…where’s the coffee, butter,
beer, thermometer….” The remote will finally be ours.
No more: surreptitiously ogling any female under 70 on the street, no more porn, sex shops, lads’
mags, lap dancing clubs, prostitution, orgies, wife swapping, paedophiles, oedipal complexes,
murder, corruption, torture, water boarding, 30% less salary, greedy
bankers/politicians/corporations/BBC, female presenters over 30 being replaced, the use of the
‘c’ word, rugby.
But alas, no more laughs, dancing, verbal banter, flirting, Valentine’s Day, romantic songs, David
Beckham, Balzac, Zhang Yimou, Messiaen, the Verve, James Turrell, Herzog. Oh no. No more
Herzog. But then again, dykes in drag are a distinct possibility…or consider Japan
cosplay…worth a try? Not really. Now if only they could multi-task.
Stem cell sperm…ah no more men then? No more: water-proof mascara, 8” killer heels, thongs,
enormous fake breasts/lips, liposuction, ladettes, dowries, Katie Price (aka Jordan), ‘does my
bum look big in this?’
No: arranged marriages of children to bearded 75-80 year old strangers, being covered from
head to toe to finger tips, continuous confinement, being raped, beaten, stoned to death,
ostracised by society due to genital mutilation gone wrong, the Bible, abortion, rohypnol, hos ‘n
bitches, slavery, machete wielding children, Lars Von Tier, Woody Allen, Hugh Hefner, Stalin.
But more domestic free time: the end of mismatched sock balls gathering dust under the bed,
wet towels on the bed, toe nail clippings in the most unlikely places, empty milk containers in the
fridge, half-eaten pizza slices hidden under newspapers, jam lids down side on the sofa,
magazines strewn on the bathroom floor, lights on in all and every empty room, “Hey Babe,
where’s my belt, cufflinks, comb, wallet, grey pinstriped trousers…where’s the coffee, butter,
beer, thermometer….” The remote will finally be ours.
No more: surreptitiously ogling any female under 70 on the street, no more porn, sex shops, lads’
mags, lap dancing clubs, prostitution, orgies, wife swapping, paedophiles, oedipal complexes,
murder, corruption, torture, water boarding, 30% less salary, greedy
bankers/politicians/corporations/BBC, female presenters over 30 being replaced, the use of the
‘c’ word, rugby.
But alas, no more laughs, dancing, verbal banter, flirting, Valentine’s Day, romantic songs, David
Beckham, Balzac, Zhang Yimou, Messiaen, the Verve, James Turrell, Herzog. Oh no. No more
Herzog. But then again, dykes in drag are a distinct possibility…or consider Japan
cosplay…worth a try? Not really. Now if only they could multi-task.
