Sex and how to Laugh at this Blogge

My wife Rolanda likes to laugh a lot, though I often don't get the joke.
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(I put the word 'sex' in so you'd read this. I feel no shame)

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Remember that every time you don't laugh, a fairy dies or a baby gets tooth-ache.

Even if you don't understand the joke make a ha ha noise, you can always work out what was Funny in later life, like once you're retired or in prison.

Even though Chortling in public may seem out of place, like at funerals, riots or book-burnings, go for it, you're only young once.

Cackling is for ducks only - although scientific experiments have so far failed to prove satisfactorily that they have a sense of humour. Or 'humor' if they're American.

It is often best to train with some low Snickers until you feel confident enough to build up to the full-blown Snigger.

A Guffaw in time saves nine. (nobody knows what this means)

Serial Gigglers be warned, in the present climate it is best done in the privacy of your own trailer.

Titters. (The less said about these the better.)

Next week - Clothing Tips
Helpless Hysteria – the pros and cons of the diaper. The controversy rages on.



©All rights reserved Julian Chagrin 2007

Cock and Bull Story

Me supporting my wife.

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Trench chewed his lip nervously, things weren’t going at all well.
Jackie’s sex change operation had been a complete fiasco.
As soon as 'she', sorry, 'he', had returned from the clinic 'he' had walked proudly into the loo, unzipped the new addition to 'his' anatomy and taken a standup pee,
“I’ve been looking forward to this moment for years” he/she said.
It was at this seminal moment that Jacky, unused to this novel form of urination, had pulled a tad too hard and his/her brand new state-of-the-art penis had came off in his/her hand.

Trench will never forget the scream.
To make matters worse Jacky had involuntarily tightened his/her grip in shock with the result that the offending penis, lubricated with antibiotic cream by the clinic that very morning, had shot from his/her hand into the air, bounced off the mirror, ricochetted off the sink and flew down the toilet.
But what made matters much worse was that as Jacky had lunged to retrieve it he/she had inadvertantly pushed the handle and flushed the toilet.
Just when you thought that matters could not get any worse, Trench had then had to call the Emergency Services to rescue Jacky’s hand from the S bend where it had become inextricably stuck when he/she had done a desperate dive after the delinquent dick.

To procure Jacky another state of the art cock would cost a fortune. They had been very lucky with the previous one, one careful man/lady owner, hardly ever used and certainly not for sex, and in fact hardly even for urinating, as he/she had died of kidney failure. So they had bought it from the undertaker for a song .

“I wonder if we could attach a remote controlled dildoll?” Trench wondered. “Surely it would work on the same principle? Of course this time it’d have to be riveted on.”

The smirking firemen, who had spent an hour trying to pull Jacky free while making superhuman efforts not to giggle, finally gave up.
“Sorry sir, but we’ll have to smash the porcelain.” Said the Chief unsuccessfully trying to supress a grin.
Trench waved a weary hand in acquiescence.
The chief took a large sledge hammer and smote the S bend.

The porcelain shattered. Water flooded the floor. Jacky’s hand was free at last.
“I’ve got it!”
She was waving a small pink sausage-like thing in triumph.
“I caught my dick!”
The grins on the firemen’s faces slowly faded to disbelief, followed by stunned belief, followed by a mad rush through the front door, from whence could be heard the well known sounds of a group of smart-alec firemen throwing up in the front garden.
“Fetch the sewing kit dear, I’ll have it back on in a jiffy.” Said Jacky happily. “Whoopee, I can still become President.”

©All rights reserved Julian Chagrin 2007

'Woperson’s Lib Personifesto.'

Lady Adelina Trench and my wife. Guess which is witch.

Below is an excerpt from my novel:
"HOOTS or the Honorable Order of Treasure Seekers."
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The first politically correct non-sexist woperson’s lib personifesto
By Lady Adelina Trench - Suffragette.

Died 1912 after chaining herself in protest to the 'Titanic'

“The peopleace to us all is the typical huperson being’s lethargy that faces all new movepeoplets.
To propose an apeopledpeoplet against the existing laws on epersonipation is riskmonarch all.
All wopeople must make the ultimate sacrifice like it’soines. The age of ropersonce is past. We will childcott parliapeoplet!
We will fight all who stand in our way, from the Itbrides to Personhattan, from Ms.Issippi to Parentparentgascar.
Apeople.”

©All rights reserved Julian Chagrin 2007

"Fuck!" is a word with which one should never begin a sentence.

This is me supported by my wife Rolanda.

"PSEUDONYMS"

Prologue
'Fuck!' is a word with which one should never begin a sentence, let alone a short story or a novel, reference book, or, God forbid, a religious tract. How can you follow it? But still 'Fuck!' is how I am intent on beginning this sentence, short story, novel, reference book, or religious tract, because, as you will see in a few seconds, it is the only possible word to use in the context.

But first the names. At all costs we must protect the names, otherwise there could well be incriminations of a serious nature and the someone who could be seriously incriminated would doubtless be me. So let’s find some really good believable pseudonyms. I’m normally not too good at this but here goes:

Plungeface Twatweed? Gorgonzola Petulant? Grobmaster Nippers Jnr? No, that there was a Grobmaster Nippers Senior might be asking too much of the reader’s goodwill. Snortletwerp Feeelingz? Who says you can’t have three e’s?

Rottweiler Tneap? Something double barrelled always adds a touch of class. Creosote Plough-Hinge? Gorgeous Neat-Rembler (hidden pun, that’s quite subtle) Tancredi Blodge-Chirping? Am I looking for male or female names? That’ll help narrow it down a bit.

Well Henry and Charles were blokes and Ethel was a female.
So two guys and a gal.
Norbert Masterspleen? Blister Jerbil the Third? Martita Titt-Titting. Overdose of tits. Martita Treadwell? Not bad, it’s the first one that’s anywhere near human. Let’s go with it for starters. So, Martita Treadwell.

Now the chaps – Sordid Bottletop? Ablution Dayweary? Argathon Pendips? Good if Charlie had Greek ancestry maybe, but as he didn’t we’ll move on with alacrity. Alacrity Speedfury? Tnid Gluppy? . I need a glass of water, best food for the brain they say. Walter Freakworthy? Blad Twig-Fumbler?
Hang on, Blad’s quite an original first name - it contains ‘bad’ and ‘lad’ and in fact ‘bad lad’ And with that hint of ‘bladder’ it also smacks of mortality.… Blad. Blad Trousers? Blad Pinkperson? Blad Corsico? Yes! I’ll go with that. So Martita Treadwell and Blad Corsico.

Now the last one, something slightly more sensitive sounding as for instance: Apparition Shymaster? Ephemeris Shadow? Frailty Possums? Quiver Wobble-Quake? You’re losing it, get a grip on yourself …. Agrippon Yossef? Joseph or how about Joe? That’s a manly name. Joe Crimea? Joe Gallipoli? Joe Russian Front ? Why wars all of a sudden? Come on you’ve nearly got it… Joe Juggins, Joe Juxta, Joe Kersall? Yes that’s good, another pun and it fits! Joe Kersall. So Martita Treadwell, Blad Corsico and Joe Kersall.
Now we can begin.

Chapter 1

“FUCK!” yelled Joe Kersall, Martita Treadwell and Blad Corsico as they fell off the cliff.

THE END

(See what I mean? It’s the only word)

©All rights reserved Julian Chagrin 2007