It’s a grey old day here at Merryweather Towers although the gardens are showing the first signs that Spring is well and truly on it’s way with a little carpet of snowdrops under the sycamore tree and fat buds on the daffodils, they just need a couple of days of sunshine to burst into a riot of yellows and creams.
The fat pigeon (I’ve named him Walter) who likes to hang around our garden is flirting with the lady pigeons and showing off his finery by fluffing out his feathers and strutting the length of the high garden wall. Walter always offers good comedy value; he’s rather pompous and hasn’t quite learnt how to manage the high brick steps on the steep sloping part at the end of the wall. He always manages to miss time the last but one step (which is bigger than the others) and he ends up overstepping and nutting the wall with his beak, it’s very funny to watch – particularly his frenzied recovery which always brings to mind Del Boy Trotter after he fell through the open door in the wine bar. Ahh the indignities we’re prepared to suffer in the name of romance and more to the point the blindness we develop at the sniff of a bit of what you fancy.
That point can be no better illustrated than by a sign I spotted whilst out shopping yesterday. It was positioned on the front door of a licensed sex shop; purveyors of jazz mags, pornographic literature and films and an assortment of potions and appliances far too racy to be detailed here (but use your imaginations darlings).
The shop front is discretion itself with no hint of the pleasures held within its inner sanctum why even its name ‘The Private Shop’ couldn’t be more prudent, it’s not like it’s called ‘Wankers World’ which I think is a better name. Especially if it’s staffed by the likes of the people you find in electrical outlets; you know pushy young men with white shirts and ties, razor burn and too much aftershave; wankers one and all. I digress.
So yes, to cope with their customers sudden blindness, which is probably brought on by the rush of excitement to their nether regions, they’ve had to post the following sign on their front door….
I’m sorry SMALL CHILDREN and BABIES IN PRAMS???? What sort of wanker would take a small child or a baby in a pram into a sex shop? Now I’m quite prepared to get shouted down on this one but I think it’s more likely to be a man.
I have no problems with porn whatsoever but I can’t imagine that a woman (however chavvy) would choose to subject her children to such material. So I’m making a huge assumption here that it’s more likely to be a Dad offering to ‘take the kids out for a walk’ to give his partner a break and then using the opportunity to visit the shop. Even worse the git probably secretes his stash in the pram so that no-one will suspect what he’s just bought. Can people really be that effing blinkered and stupid? Well obviously the visitors to that particular shop are otherwise the sign wouldn’t be necessary. I despair.
OOoodles of Tearing My Hair Out in Rage Ones
Merryweather
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