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The Beast With Two Backs

One law for us…

…and another for them.

A muslim who raped a 13-year-old girl he groomed on Facebook has been spared a prison sentence after a judge heard he went to an Islamic faith school where he  was taught that women are worthless.

I don’t recall that being included in the national curriculum.

Adil Rashid, 18, claimed he was not aware that it was illegal for him to have sex with the girl because his education left him ignorant of British law.

Where’s he been living?  Under a rock?  In some dark cave?  Has he never watched TV or read a newspaper?

Yesterday Judge Michael Stokes handed Rashid a suspended sentence, saying: ‘Although chronologically 18, it is quite clear from the reports that you are very naive and immature when it comes to sexual matters.’

As mitigating circumstances go this one is thinner than a stick insect’s todger.  Worked like a charm though, didn’t it.

Earlier Nottingham Crown Court heard that such crimes usually result in a four to seven-year prison sentence.

Used to result in a four to seven-year prison sentence.  The precedent this moron of a judge has just set into law has handed paedos of a particular hue a get out of jail free card.  What the Scammel happened to ignorance is no defence?  What happened to justice?  I’ll tell you what’s happened to it.  Our wonderful judiciary just cut off the blind old biddy’s head with that sword of hers and shoved the scales down the hole in her neck!

But the judge said that because Rashid was ‘passive’ and ‘lacking assertiveness’, sending him to jail might cause him ‘more damage than good’.

I guess Rashid dressing up to look like a schoolboy and standing in the dock clasping his hands in front and staring contritely at his feet did the trick, eh?

Rashid, from Birmingham, admitted he had sex with the girl, saying he had been ‘tempted by her’ after they met online.

It was all the girl’s fault.  She wasn’t done up in a tent like a human letterbox so Rashid didn’t have a choice.

Gimme a frigging break!  This is Britain we’re talking about, not some medieval shithole.  We don’t have Sharia courts here.

Oh, wait…

They initially exchanged messages on Facebook before sending texts and chatting on the phone over a two-month period.

They then met up in Nottingham, where Rashid had booked a room at a Premier Inn.

Yeah, he was so naive, passive and lacking assertiveness he had the forethought to pre-book a room in the hotel.

The girl told police they stayed at the hotel for two hours and had sex after Rashid went to the bathroom and emerged wearing a condom.

Wait.  What the…?

Let’s perform a little re-wind.

…you are very naive and immature when it comes to sexual matters.

Not so naive and immature he didn’t know about condoms and what they are for.  Clearly not much of a lily-white ingénue then.  Yet the judge chose to ignore that this paragon of Islamic values went equipped.

I’d say the only naive and immature tosser in the courtroom was Judge Stokes because he’s been had over good and proper.

Rashid then returned home and went straight to a mosque to pray.

Because praying to a Dark Ages warlord who had a nine year old bride is what you do after having sex with a child in a country that locks up paedophiles.  Or at least used to.

He was arrested the following week after the girl confessed what had happened to a school friend, who informed one of her teachers.

It’s a pity the silly girl didn’t confide to her very sensible friend before she met Rashid in the flesh, so to speak.

He told police he knew the girl was 13 but said he was initially reluctant to have sex before relenting after being seduced.

The accused was so reluctant he went to the expense of booking a room and nipping into a chemist for a pack of three. I say chemist since I’m assuming that procuring johnnies from a dispenser in the hotel lavvy is haram.  Or he could have got them from a third party of course.

Earlier the court heard how Rashid had ‘little experience of women’ due to his education at an Islamic school in the UK, which cannot be named for legal reasons.

The name of a school that labels a seven year old a racist for asking another child an innocent question about his skin colour gets splashed all over the papers.  So how come the name of the “school” that teaches its male pupils that women are scum and can be treated as scum gets a pass?  Surely this poison should be weeded out, not protected?

After his arrest, he told a psychologist that he did not know having sex with a 13-year-old was against the law. The court heard he found it was illegal only when he was informed by a family member.

At which point he was so full of remorse for breaking the law he gave himself up to the police.  Oh, wait.  No he didn’t.

In other interviews with psychologists, Rashid claimed he had been taught in his school that ‘women are no more worthy than a lollipop that has been dropped on the ground’.

I’d just love to see the last Ofstead report on this school.  I wonder if it was a glowing, politically correct one?  I can’t wait to see Ofstead explain how rampant Islamic misogyny passed under their radar, accepting, like the judge did, that Rashid isn’t a lying little scrote.  I take it that these Islamic schools are inspected like other faith schools are.  If what Rashid said is true, how many more madrassas in the UK wipe their arses with the national curriculum while under Ofstead’s purview?

When Judge Stokes said Rashid ‘must have known it was illegal, unless he was going round with his eyes shut’, defence lawyer Laban Leake said reports suggested Rashid had a ‘degree of sexual naivety’.

Clearly, Rashid wasn’t the only one going round with his eyes shut…

The school he attended, it is not going too far to say, can be described as a closed community and on this occasion this was perpetuated by his home life.

No shit, Sherlock!  Are we going to see the same largesse handed out to a boy, formerly cloistered in a Catholic school, grooming thirteen year olds and having sex with them?

No?

Then why has Rashid been allowed to get away with it?

‘It is not too far to say that he may not have known that having sex with a 13-year-old girl was illegal.’ Judge Stokes sentenced Rashid to nine months youth custody, suspended for two years, along with a two-year probation supervision order.

But apparently it’s too far to say that Rashid had a mobile phone and a Facebook account which means he had access to the internet.  With all the news about Muslim child grooming gangs and teachers running off abroad with underage pupils being splashed around the media and internet how can he not have known?

Describing Rashid, the judge said: ‘He’s had an unusual education, certainly in terms of the sexual education provided. Comparing women to lollipops is a very curious way of teaching young men about sex.’

Bangs head on table.  It’s not “curious” shit-for-brains, it’s scammelling scandalous!  All those frigging gender equality laws the legal profession print money from vigorously support are being trodden into the mud and all Stokes can say is that it’s curious?  Is he high on crack cocaine or something?  Is he so blinded by political correctness that he can’t see where this will lead?

But he said that Rashid knew what he was doing was wrong.

Then why isn’t Rashid busy avoiding dropping the soap in a prison bathroom?  He groomed and had sex with an underage girl.  That is a prisonable offence.

‘It was made clear to you at the school you attended that having sexual relations with a woman before marriage was contrary to the precepts of Islam,’ he said.

So Rashid is being given this outrageously lenient sentenced for ignoring madrassa teaching?

Addressing Rashid, the judge said: ‘I accept this was a case where the girl was quite willing to have sexual activity with you. But the law is there to protect young girls, even though they are perfectly happy to engage in sexual activity.’

Unless some dhimmified Judge is willing to make an exception when it suits him?

The law my left buttock!  British law has become a travesty, a joke, a sham.  It is unfit for purpose.  Judge Stokes should hang up his wig and gown in shame. Letting a paedophile go because he went to the wrong school is an unacceptable defence. and the sentence handed down has no place in any civilised society.

The Jerem(iad) Hunting of the Snark

According to The Guardian the greatest mystery of modern times has been solved by a cosmetic gynaecologist* from Florida. Yes, he has found the G-Spot of legend! The spot that launched a thousand Cosmos.

An aside: is it just me or are those magazines for ladies getting more bizarre in their sex “advice”. Cosmo or something claimed on it’s front cover recently to have discovered a load more sexual positions. Short of claiming to have re-jiggled human anatomy God alone knows how any of this is possible. I mean this is from the (in)famous Perfumed Garden written by a Grand Vizier for an Islamic Potentate way back…

SEVENTH MANNER-El kelouci (the somersault). The woman must wear a pair of pantaloons, which she lets drop upon her heels; then she stoops, placing her head between her feet, so that her neck is in the opening of her pantaloons. At that moment, the man, seizing her legs, turns her upon her back, making her perform a summersault; then with his legs curved under him he brings his member right against her vulva and, slipping it between her legs, inserts it.

It is alleged that there are women who, while lying on their back, can place their feet behind their head without the help of pantaloons or hands.

I think the second paragraph there is a bleg by the Vizier for funding for more field-work in India because it is mentioned this and other chiropractic delights are due to India where according to the author, “It is well for you to know that the inhabitants of those parts have multiplied the different ways to enjoy women, and they have advanced farther than we in the knowledge and investigation of coitus.”

Of course it was well known! It still is. It is one of the two central truths of sex that never go away. The first is the one hinted at here that girls from foreign climes are always dirtier. Whether it is performing the somersault without pantaloons or vaginally firing ping-pong balls in a Bangkok nightclub to the general hilarity of an Aussie stag party the grass is always greener on the other side of the verge. I shall quote Byron:

“What men call gallantry, and gods adultery, is much more common where the climate’s sultry.”.

The other thing that was ever thus (apart from vaginal intercourse which of course was ever thus or I wouldn’t be writing and you wouldn’t be reading this drivel) is the bizarre belief that every generation has that the stuffed-shirts of the older folks were never got off to get it on. Everyone remembers the “unamused” Queen Victoria rather than the one before Albert died and the very saucy letters they wrote to each other. I shall quote Larkin here:

“Sexual intercourse began in 1963 (which was rather late for me) – Between the end of the Chatterley ban and the Beatles first LP.”

Of course – and I have flicked through it once – DH Lawrence’s magnificent octopus is unreadable bilge and just isn’t sexy at all. Maybe it was for Lawrence but then he was a git.

Anyway, back to the G spot of myth and legend. Well to paraphrase an eminent Victorian there are lies, damnable lies, statistics and statistics about sex. Indeed “sexology” (he’s got an “‘ology” that makes him a scientist) is perhaps the shabbiest of alleged sciences. It is all made-up. De Sade, Sigmund Fraud, Alfred Kinsey, Alex Comfort – the whole lot of them said more about themselves than about anything else. I suspect it is down to the use of surveys which are generally misleading (or leading). I’m tempted to write a sex-book myself. Find someone you fancy (and who fancies you) and just you know make it up as you go along. Right! Done that! And you know what. That’s also the fun way to learn. On the job so to speak. Not reading bloody Kinsey! I mean even educated fleas can manage it.

Anyway…

Ostrzenski, a cosmetic gynaecologist and director of the Institute of Gynecology in St Petersburg, Florida, examined the anterior vaginal wall in the body of a deceased 83-year-old woman and, as the New Scientist reported, found “a clearly defined sac in a layer between the vagina and the urethra close to the perineal membrane”. The sac, furthermore, was “around 16 millimetres from the upper part of the urethral opening” positioned at a 35 degree angle, and “less than a centimetre long”. Inside, Ostrzenski discovered a “‘worm-like’ structure with three distinct regions that broadly ‘resemble erectile tissue – normally found in areas such as the clitoral body’”.

That is class science that is! I mean New Scientist is a vile rag (I always preferred Scientific American until that too dumbed down to the level of an eight year old). Do I need to point out the methodological flaws here? I don’t think so. Anyway Ms Barton of the Guardian witters on to no apparent purpose** for several hundred words further…

I suspect personally that the G spot is a semi-myth. There is something that feels a bit different roughly where it’s meant to be but I’ve never found it opened the gates of female sexual paradise. Maybe it does for some but they are all of course in other countries where the climate is sultry and undoubtedly having wild swinging from chandeliers sex with (or maybe even without!) pantaloons.

*Think of it as extreme vajazzaling. Actually this is possibly untrue and I suspect The Graun is incorrect in it’s use of “cosmetic”.
**Much like most searches for the G spot. Or to use the technical term a “frigmarole”.

The Other Side Of Porn

During a lively debate over at “Liberal” Conspiracy about the purported effects of pornography I went a-websearchin’ and found an interesting short documentary, The Devil And Shelley Lubben.

It was made to address the claims and advocacy of a particular American anti-porn campaigner, Shelley Lubben, who was briefly in the industry in 1994, then found Jesus, and became a campaigner, basing her work on emotive testimony regarding harms she claims were a result of her short porn career, and the general claims made by anti-porn advocates regarding rape, coercion, violence, etc supposedly being endemic and fundamentally central to the industry. This documentary was made as a rebuttal.
(more…)

Would you Adam and Eve it!

World’s first carbon neutral bra.

The world’s first carbon neutral bra, made in a factory run on solar panels, has been launched onto the fashion market with hopes that all clothing will be more environmentally friendly in future.

The Marks and Spencer (M&S) lingerie set, that will be available online, was made in an ‘eco factory’ in Sri Lanka where energy has been reduced a third through measures like making sure all lighting is from the sun or low energy light bulbs.

It is powered by hydroelectricity produced on a nearby river and solar panels on the roof.

The rest of the carbon dioxide produced in making the bra will be offset by planting 6,000 trees in the community every year. Most of the trees will be native to Sri Lanka, therefore boosting wildlife. A quarter will be fruit trees that can generate money for the local community.

The Carbon Trust Footprinting Certification Company has calculated the carbon used in making the bra and will monitor the project to ensure emissions are cut.

Jesus fucking wept.

The scheme will also help wildlife. Sri Lanka’s forests are home to approximately 90 per cent of the country’s endemic species but are disappearing at a rate of 1.6 per cent per year.

M&S are working with the Conservation Carbon Company to help local farmers replant trees so that what is left of the rainforest in southern Sri Lanka can be reconnected again via ‘green corridors’. This allows wildlife such as the slender loris and green vine snake to move around. The local farmers are helped to develop sustainable agriculture harvesting fruit and timber.

Mike Barry, Head of Sustainable Business at M&S, said the retailer will be trying to make more clothing carbon neutral in future and expecting other companies to follow suite.

“We don’t want green, eco-friendly products to be in a ghetto in the corner, we should be making all products more environmentally friendly,” he said.

I honestly don’t know where to start. OK, start simple Nick and work up to the Götterdämmerung. First off the lass on the right – that don’t work. She’s way too buxom for a strapless number. OK, got that off my er… chest. The sad truth I was trying to avoid is that it will find buyers.

How do I know that? Because I’ve met the sort of people who would buy that sort of thing. I once had a flatmate called Martin. Martin was a twat. Sorry, Mart but there is no other way of putting it. He was very Green. He was so Green that he sent off for the Green party manifesto and then didn’t read it. I did. So did the rest of our flat and we concluded (this was c.1996) that whilst hitherto we’d regarded Greens as lentil boiling socks’n'sandals cranks they were actually extremely nasty. As I said Mart didn’t read it and in the end it was recycled which is fitting in a sense.

Now Mart wasn’t a hit with the ladies. I once saw him come out of the bathroom starkers but for a towel wrapped around his organs of generation and elimination. Another of my flatmates said, “Oi, Sabu the elephant-boy!” He was the spitting double of Mowgli despite being white British and from near Sheffield (which is nothing to be proud about). Anyway we must now enter stage-left a Canadian. Jamie was a nice guy. He was from Vancouver. He had a cavalcade of Canucks dossing on his floor. First was The Noah and then The Gayle. For some reason these West Coast Canucks felt the need to address each other using the definite article – a night on the Stella with The Jamie was a most excellent adventure if you catch my drift. The Noah was a sound chap who stood his round and could usually be found, “Watching the game (it didn’t matter what) having a beer” but The Gayle was something else…

I have no idea what form of financial support the friends of Jamie had. In short I basically have no freaking idea what they did or where the money came from. The Noah was a sort of force of nature. The Gayle was nature. Shortly before pitching-up in London she had spent six months living in a treehouse in British Columbia protesting about something. Anyway Green Mart was smitten from first sight. Utterly. He got nowhere of course despite cooking her a vegan curry to general derision. Now don’t get me wrong here. My wife is vegan but veganism is not the point. It was the procession of the vegetables that caused the derision. These involved a “baby aubergine”. Apparently The Gayle said, “Oh isn’t it so cute, can I hold it?” (she spoke entirely in italics all the fucking time) I wasn’t there but my flattie Sid told me afterwards. I’m glad I wasn’t there because I’d probably have lost control of various bodily functions that are not the done thing to lose control of in company. Certainly not in front of Canadians. I’m English. I have standards.

So, my point is if this silliness from M&S had been on the market back when Mart was trying to seduce The Gayle it is exactly the sort of thing he would have bought her. Maybe then he would have got at least tops and fingers. As it was he got fuck all. Not even a kiss. After having known The Gayle for 48 hours though he did tell me (this was just after the aubergine incident) that she, “Was the most important woman he’d ever met, ever”. You see, he saw life through a different lens. Most don’t pretend sexual attractiveness is something it isn’t but not Mart. He saw attractiveness purely in terms of righteousness rather than the thing in itself. Now show me a picture of Dita von Teese in the nip and I’m like “Yeah!”. Show Mart the same picture and he’d probably mumble something about it being “exploitative” and then shamble off to his room for a wank. But if you made some pony up about how Ms von Teese’s burlesque shows were “carbon-neutral” the likes of Mart would wax lyrical – and then also go off for a wank. But a righteous wank this time.

But forget about Mart! And Dita, alas! I must here air my Unified Field Theory of Frilly Things. Most things are sold as commodities in a sense. A litre of milk costs more than half a litre. This does not apply to underwear. Imagine it’s December 23rd and you are in Central Manchester and you have to buy a Crimble prezzie for the missus. Underwear always works. Now you can spend a lot at Harvey Nicks or Selfridges on “Love, Kylie” or “Elle MacPherson ‘Intimates’” or you can buy five panties for a tenner at Primark. One of those paths is a false economy. One of those will have you kipping on the sofa ’till Easter if you are fucking lucky. My point here is that lingerie is an inverse commodity. The more you pay the less (by mass) you tend to get. It is not at all like pig iron or pork bellies (thank God!). So on the general assumption that in terms of carbon footprint and resource depletion and all that jazz then the more expensive the underwear the better surely? On every count! For the planet, for the prospect of a blow-job, for not sleeping on the sofa for months! And surely getting divorced is a hell of a thing for your carbon footprint.

But that’s my take. Mart probably has a different one. And next Winterval some “lucky” lady will unwrap her carbon neutral knickers and bra and swoon before engaging in deeply unfulfilling sex with the miserable sod. And he was a miserable sod and a hypocrite. The only shag he got that year was with another of my homies – Alison. Subsequently I got to know Alison quite well. After a few drinkies we got to talking about our shag lists. She rated herself as as 3/2*. “A half!” I ejaculated. “Yeah, that was Martin, you couldn’t exactly call that sex!” No, I guess not seeing as he was the sort of bloke who tented his pants over a dimwitted Canuck who wanted to carry a baby aubergine from flat 32 to flat 24.

Last I heard Sid and Alison were happily living together in North London and she was a corporate lawyer and he was an oil engineer. I, inadvertently, almost ended that but the tale of the Canadian ribbed condom can keep. That was yet another Canadian for a start. The gaff was wick with moose-fuckers. We used to play poker and I still find fucking Canadian cents in my penny jar 15 years later.

So how did Mart get to 1/2 Alison? They were both Brahms and Liszt and he chatted her up on the basis purely that she was a vegetarian. He only later found out she also voted Tory… This amused Alison enormously. Mart simply couldn’t get his head around the idea that a vegetarian could be relatively “right wing”. I guess he should have met Hitler – they would have got on like a house on fire. Both being leftie beyond comprehension.

But there is a condom story I have to tell. And it hales from York and not Vancouver. Mart showed me his stash of johnnies (no, not like that – he was straight) but in a spirit of “chappishness”. You know where he got ‘em from? Ensure you are near a toilet now. They were a parting gift from his ex-girlfriend from York. Now I’ve had exs and by and large the parting gift is X-rated lingo both ways and not accessories for your future conquests. Real people break-up with foul language. Mart broke up with condoms. If I live to 113 I will not understand that.

But it is exactly the mentality of the buyer of carbon neutral bras. Exactly. It is about being terribly liberal about sex by not exactly being genuinely liberal but taking the easy route which is thinking it just doesn’t matter. That it is just something us carbon-neutral animals can’t help ourselves from doing.

And that is not the way I look at it. I’m pretty liberal on the shagging but only because I know it can mean more than the world just in and of itself. Things don’t have to be defined to matter. And when I take off my wife’s bra I do not care about the carbon neutrality. I am not Mart. He’d get the righteous horn (though I am told he is hung like a Chinese mouse) if it was a “carbon-neutral bra” but me? Me! I just like tits. And whilst for shopping purposes I know what her technical size is but for groping purposes I think in terms of old money and the utterly “carbon whatever” that is the BSH – The British Standard Handful. I like tits. I’m a non-gay bloke. Do I have to explain? Moreover if I had to think like that I would have the pitiful hit rate of Martin. I have seen (and handled) some beautiful breasts in my time. I have never got my paws on “carbon neutral” ones because a slap in the face generally brings sexual antics to a halt. Clue one is that if you get a girl’s bra off then you have arrived! By definition they gotta be exceptional or you are wasting your time and you wouldn’t want to do that! The same applies to lesbians. I mean real lesbians who like girls and not lezzas who are doing it as a deranged political statement. I like lesbians. I have actually had sex with at least one. She regarded the Guardian as right-wing but she had great tits and really good dope so I forgave her for it.

And she had the tightest cunny parts of any chaos theorist I ever shagged. (Un)fortunately that places her in a set of one.

I guess I now have to go and knit my wife some knickers out of grass and then make up a bed on the sofa.

Rejected post titles include: “Titiful!”, “Titter ye not!” and “Penny Bizarre”.

*I’m a physicist by training so I use vulgar fractions.

More Eugenics

Following on from the recently discussed case of a man with a “learning disability” being forced by law to be celibate, via the scary Star Chamber we call the “Court Of Protection”, we now have a young woman with a “learning disability” facing compulsory sterilisation.

I wonder who the Court Of Protection is really intended to protect.

The Fist of God

Is this genuine?

The sex act called fisting is a source of confusion and misconceptions for many Christians. This is unfortunate, because it means that many Christian men and women are depriving themselves of what could be the most spiritual sexual experience of their lives. Like anal sex and BDSM, fisting is often mistakenly associated with the gay community or is considered a sex act too extreme to be appropriate for Christian couples. Not only are these views incorrect, but fisting actually has a scriptural precedent, as we will show.

The whole website is a hoot. The stuff on threesomes, masturbation and an agenda for Christian porn are…

… Awe inspiring. To say nothing of the idea that anal sex is a a suitable way to preserve a hymen for the wedding night.

Suffice to say this is almost certainly NSFW.

PS. I honestly found this totally accidentally.

How Very Different…

… from the home life of our own dear Camerons.

Jacob Zuma, prez of the RSA, is a class act all round.

Nompumelelo Ntuli Zuma is said to be pregnant with Mr Zuma’s 21st child, but the allegations have raised questions over the baby’s paternity.

Well, yeah, 21 is seriously going some. Hasn’t Mr Zuma got a day job?

A letter from “concerned family members” of Mr Zuma, claiming that one of his three current wives had cheated on him with Phinda Thomo, one of her bodyguards, was sent to the Zulu-language newspaper Ilanga.

Mr Thomo is understood to have since committed suicide, although a South African police spokesman refused to comment on the claim.

Yeah, when someone accidentally beheads themselves with a machette the cops don’t want to comment. I mean he was offed for doinking the prez’s third wife wasn’t he?

Mr Zuma, who returns to South Africa on Saturday after a state visit to India where he was accompanied by Mrs Ntuli Zuma, is said to be “furious” over the allegations.

Sources close to his office said the claims were false and designed to embarrass him ahead of the launch of the World Cup on Friday.

“The reports appear to be part of an ongoing and malicious campaign to undermine the right of the President and his family to privacy and dignity,” said a statement from the Presidency.

Mr Zuma, 68, has been married five times.

Earlier this year he acknowledged that he had fathered a child with the daughter of Irvin Khoza, his close friend [still?!] and the chairman of South Africa’s World Cup organising committee.

During a visit to London in February, during which he met The Queen, he lashed out at British newspaper reports which branded him a “sex-obsessed bigot”, demanding that “my culture should be respected”.

I was very friendly with a white South African girl who lived over here on a “working holiday” visa. She was terrified by the pace of change back home. I am beginning to understand why. Something she once said to me is really hitting home. Most people over here thought of apartheid era South Africa as being blacks and whites. It was never that simple of course because of tribal loyalties but one of the things T worried about was the number of official languages getting protected status. It had been something like Afrikaans, English, Xhosa and Zulu but it leapt to I think fourteen. I thought little of it at the time other than, “that’s gonna make a tax form complicated” but what it really means is that the new Rainbow Nation actively embraces and facilitates tribalism and that is the last thing Africa needs. I think we need a little light relief as a potentially rich nation descends into mysticism and tyranny (well Comrade Bob managed it in Zim – they have billionaires there who can’t afford a bottle of Coke). How about a look at the mating customs of my own continent from an American perspective…

Gawd bless the NHS (again)!

I think this gem from The Times has officially pushed me over the edge into running round the garden with underpants on my head shouting “wibble” at squirrels. Ian B has a nice line on infantilization in education but this takes the choclate-chip Hob-Nob and dunks it.

A National Health Service leaflet is advising school pupils that they have a “right” to an enjoyable sex life and that regular intercourse can be good for their cardiovascular health.

Nobody has a right to a sex. They have a right to try if they can find a willing partner. And ya know lots of other things improve cardiovascular health such as jogging, tennis or having a fight.

The advice appears in guidance circulated to parents, teachers and youth workers, and is intended to update sex education by telling pupils about the benefits of sexual pleasure. For too long, say its authors, experts have concentrated on the need for “safe sex” and loving relationships while ignoring the main reason that many people have sex, that is, for enjoyment.

They have finally figured out that most people find sex enjoyable! Well fuck me roughly from behind with a baguette! Truly that is the most profoundly counter-intuitive but ground-breaking piece of research since Ernest Rutherford discovered atoms were mainly nothing. And “telling pupils about the benefits of sexual pleasure”. Oh, behave! If this was any other source than the NHS you’d think after they put that publication to bed they’d be rolling between the desks laughing themselves to cariovascual fitness. But no. They probably felt very pleased and moral about it.

The NHS is now putting out leaflets saying “sex is fun”. Jesus, Buddha and Guru Nanak all sat down and wept. I mean for cunting fuck’s sake where did they get such an outrageous idea!

The document, called Pleasure, has been drawn up by NHS Sheffield, although it is also being circulated outside the city.

Alongside the slogan “an orgasm a day keeps the doctor away”, it says: “Health promotion experts advocate five portions of fruit and veg a day and 30 minutes’ physical activity three times a week. What about sex or masturbation twice a week?”

Right. I am really losing it now. The bastarding NHS is now publishing leaflets telling teenagers they might enjoy a wank? Or that that is part of their state-approved fitness regime along with their five-a-day. That’s five fruit and veg although why not combine the two like that guy in American Pie who fucked an apple pie. Why not be ultra healthy and fuck five fuit pies a day? Why not? The government said so.

Steve Slack, director of the Centre for HIV and Sexual Health at NHS Sheffield, who is one of the authors, argues that, far from promoting teenage sex, it could encourage young people to delay losing their virginity until they are sure they will enjoy the experience.

Steve Slack? I am now typing from below the desk. What sort of a fucking deranged argument is that “on the”? That is utter bollocks. It is beneath risible and beyond contempt. I mean how the fucking fuck does anyone know they’ll enjoy anything until they try it? This is your Mum in 1985 saying she heard your tunes on your Walkman and that they “had a good beat”. It’s “dad dancing” in front of your pals. It is the very finest cut of best bollocks.

Slack believes that as long as teenagers are fully informed about sex and are making their decisions free of peer pressure and as part of a caring relationship, they have as much right as an adult to a good sex life.

From my considerable experience of actually being a teenager (roughly from the ages of 13 to 19 oddly enough) expecting peer-pressure (that epic catch-all for the ills of the youth) not to be a factor in almost everything they do is farcical. And who is to judge what is or is not a “caring relationship” anyway? Some of mine have been really quite casual but pleasant. Were they caring? Is sex without love but with a degree of mutual respect actually caring? Were the very emotionally intense ones, the ones that I would have destroyed empires over, more or less caring even if they ended in disaster? Everyone I know has been dumped or treated badly or had their heart broken and it hurts like hell. That is life and that is something we learn from and it is not something that can be taught by Steve-on-the-Slack. I’d prefer it to be learned with Debbie from 4B behind the bike sheds because that is real and she’s learning too. To expect teenagers to really understand life is expecting them to be emotional prodigies. They are learning. We all are. I just know a bit more than the average fifteen year old because I have an extra twenty years on the clock.

Anthony Seldon, master of Wellington College, Berkshire, who introduced classes in emotional wellbeing, said the approach was “deplorable”.

Now it gets worse (it is quite difficult to type whilst chewing through your own ankle, under a desk). It is “deplorable” (such a Daily Mail-ish term BTW) but coming from someone who launched classes on “emotional wellbeing” you just know he’s a complete tit-end as well.

There has almost certainly been more ink spilt over the subject of sex than semen. It is all bollocks. For me it is a touchstone libertarian subject because… Well I had this pal once who was in what I and a few other of his pals thought was a really damaging relationship. He said to me, “Nick, but you don’t know what it’s like when we are alone together”. Exactly. If I didn’t know what was good for my mate how the devil do we expect loons like Slackster to know?

And another thing. It’s a little thing called morality. There was no mention of it in that article but morality should be at the heart of any discussion of sex. I don’t mean that in an old-fashioned tweed-jacket and pipe moralizing sense but it is there and it is variable because it is intensely personal. It is about empathy and is something you learn and cannot be taught. It is deeply libertarian because it is about the free interactions between free people.

You want my 2p on all this? Sex is something we can learn by ourselves (especially these days with the net and all) apart from maybe the reproductive aspect which is properly a significant part of biology and “relationships” are things that happen to you rather than are taught to you.

Life can’t be taught. It shouldn’t even be attempted to be taught. It should be lived.

I have a lot more to say on this but the post has become somewhat engorged…

And, yeah, it often works out badly but then what is the alternative?

I’m Not A Prude, But…

Apparently, the fact that a Job Centre is advertising a job is national news, because it happens to be for an Adult TV presenter.

Sophie Randall-Price, 25, who is looking for a job and saw the advert, said: “I couldn’t believe when I saw this. “I’m broad-minded, but to think they want us to apply to such a sleazy job is really a bit too much. I’m willing to work hard, but I’m not willing to whip my top off and talk dirty to a bunch of weirdos in the middle of the night on national TV.”

Sorry Sophie, here’s the rule: if you need to prefix what you’re about to say with “I’m broad-minded but…” then you’ve proved that you aren’t.

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