2 posts tagged “dogging”

Some queries from the last few days, and also one unrelated solution :

Queries

• What possessed someone to write 'Smurfs are the kings of toytown' on a toilet roll dispenser in a motorway services gents?
• A student in an Oxford branch of Tesco eyes up two DVDs priced at £2.74 apiece. Now, which of 'The Karate Kid' and 'xXx' do you think will be regarded as more 'ironic' in the eyes of his peers?
• An article from The Sun is drawn to my brother's attention. It claims that Charlotte Church and Gavin Henson are thinking twice about their wedding venue, since it has been brought to their attention that it is a known dogging spot. It is - in fact - the same venue in which my brother was married last year. Whilst discussing this with his parents, it transpires that our mother already knew it was a dogging spot, before my brother was married even. Which begs the question - exactly how did my mother know this?
• Why did that chap in the 'zany' orange jester's hat push some stranger into the river outside a bustling pub? I think the answer was touched on as the poor drenched soul climbed out of the water, shouting "What fucking cunt did that?"
• A further query, relating to the one immediately above : In the heated debate that followed, the culprit protested "It could have been worse". Now, I don't think I'd take overly kindly to being waterlogged, embarrassed in front of dozens of people, having possessions (including my mobile phone) ruined, and exposed to the risk of Weil's disease at the hands of some pissed-up bottom-feeder. So, I have to ask, what did this chap and his slightly skewed sense of social responsibility have in mind exactly? How could it have been worse? Well, the river was not comprised of hydrochloric acid, nor indeed lava, I suppose. So really, in the face of this irrefutable line of reasoning, I think that the victim should have shown more grace, and allowed the man in the 'crazy' hat unfettered carnal access to his girlfriend.

Solution

• If I spend all afternoon with my port side facing the sun, it will balance out my current two-tone colouring.

My move to The City has been postponed yet again, so I get to burden Mr and Mrs Walrus for at least another week. This means that I - and more significantly, all my stuff - won't be out of their house this weekend. This is giving my dear mother grey hairs, as flocks of people will be descending on Sunday for my grandfather's 80th birthday.

My penance for being a general in-the-way nuisance of an idlewhore is to be put on chef duty for the weekend. Now, this I don't mind. However, as time goes on, I am developing more of an itchy chilli-finger. I am anticipating a lot of sweaty seniors.

In other (non) news, I went to meet Surf-Film-Maker Chap at a motorway services yesterday, as he was returning my board, which I'd lent to a buddy of his. He called me to let me know he'd be late, so I picked up a copy of Empire. It was getting dark, so I sat in the car with the light on, forging excitement for the forthcoming 'Hot Fuzz' and Simpsons movie.

Now, I suspect that this must be a sign of the times, but I became increasingly grasped by dogging paranoia (or 'doganoia', if you prefer). Am I giving off signals ? What kind of signals ? Does reading a magazine represent some kind of perversion that I want people to act out on me ? Did that bloke in the Volvo opposite just flash his headlights ? If I look round now, will there be someone batting one out on my window ? Argh!

You may be displeased to learn that this particular car-park rendezvous passed without incident. However, it looks like I'll be kicking my heels for an indeterminate amount of time from here on it; so I could fill those quiet evenings by conducting a 'social experiment'.