Category Archives: Comedy

Letting It In and Letting It Out

Once, at a gig in Acton, I was threatened with physical violence by another act. Rather than just responding with a pre-emptive thumping of him myself, I was exceedingly British and apologised for whatever unknown to me thing that I had done to upset him. However, it transpired that that upset was caused by my having been born, as he hates me for being “posh” – tough gig!

You cannot please all the people all the time, and I know that my aim of doing so is, to a degree, a failure. I am learning to “hold on to my shit”, as those brilliant people at the Annoyance Theatre would say. That means, to me, to be honest in my reactions, to believe in my choices, and then to commit to those choices. Of course, to start that and be honest in my reactions, I have to relearn that aspect of my personality that was euthanased by a traditional British upbringing. I have to learn to listen to my emotions, accept them, let them in, let them affect me, and then let the boiling concoction of me plus the new experiences of these overwhelming sensations, overflow into action. And I have to trust myself to do so.

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The Story of My Online Dating Profile

I admit it. I do online dating. Then again, who doesn’t these days.

I recently got fed up with the whole blandness of the thing and decided to give my profile a bit of texture, a bit of fun. Unfortunately, many people read these things at face value – which I find even funnier. Although as such, while I was hoping for feisty girls, I have also attracted one or two nutters…

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How To Write An Online Dating Profile: Al’s 10 Rules for the Ladies!

I love reading dating profiles. Or hate reading them. However there are some howlers that girls post to their profiles, so as a gift to womankind (one of my many!), here are my 10 rules for posting a successful dating profile.

Get this right and you’ll get more interest of the kind that you want. Or keep doing what you are doing and getting the results you are getting. Besides, it will make the process much more fun – and if it’s not fun, what’s the point!

1 Only put up photographs where you are looking pretty. If necessary, get the photograph taken professionally (if you ming, pay for a better photographer; once you are on the date he’s at least committed to hear if you’ve got decent chat.)

Internet dating is like window shopping, and the first thing guys look at are the pictures. If there is one picture that makes you look like you’ve just swallowed a frog, one that catches the angle just right to make your nose / eye / ear / belly / bingo wings look deformed, often the guy will move straight on without reading your profile. There is just too much choice to waste time writing to someone unattractive (and the guys that you are interested in are the ones that have the confidence to move on, so all you are doing is trying to make sure those guys take a second look at you)

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Harris’s List; a review of a prostitute

This charming book, freely available for free download from Google Books, is a review prostitutes of London in the late 18th century. I’m currently reading the 1789 edition, full title:

Harris’s List of Covent-Garden Ladies:
or
Man of Pleasure’s Kalendar for the Year 1789
containing
The Histories and some curious Anecdotes of the most celebrated Ladies now on the Town, or in Keeping, and also many of their Keepers.

Every review starts with the name and address. Normally they have blanked out a letter from the name, but never so much so that you couldn’t work out what the name actually is! After that, there is a poem dedicated to the girl, often detailing specifics about her, and finally followed by the review.

It is quite amazing the variety in the reviews, and the reviewers certainly had a way with words. The below is one that particularly made me laugh. (I have kept the italics of the original but changed the ‘f’s to ‘s’s for readability)

Miss Grant, No 4, Bolton Street, Piccadilly.

The luscious, curling nut-brown hair,
  Which stands on belly high,
Does like a sumptuous arch appear,
  And grows from thigh to thigh.

For one pound one our charming girl distributes her world of beauties; she is quite the nut-brown lass, now just at luscious nineteen, and has only been traversing the public forest of love twelve months, ever depending on the bounty of the public for support; and although she cannot be ranked in the first class of beauties (when her temper is in a composed state) she is quite the agreeable pretty girl, and condescendingly good natured.

The general ravager of beauty has left rather too many dells; but her eyes, which are of a love-piercing darkness, and beam with a most languishing kindness make amends, in bed she is most eagerly wanton, and will scarce suffer the necessary inviting preludes to take place; but she in general takes care to have the one thing needful properly prepared, and then if you are not expeditious in your mounting, St George must follow. Nor has she the least desire to suspend the liquid treasure, but eager for bliss, drives forward, till nature herself gives a close to the scene.

She wishes to receive three convincing proves of your manhood before sleep, and will use every love-inviting means to procure it, the soft hand, the nimble wrist, the pouting lip, the darting tongue, and the luscious squeeze, are at once employed as incentives to renew the sport.

Having read a few of these, one pound is quite expensive compared to many others. Using the retail price index, it was only about £100 in today’s money, but as a wage, it was about £1400 in today’s cash, so not a bad earner.

The general ravager of beauty most often seems to have been smallpox, and many of the girls are described as being heavily marked by it.

The suspense of liquid pleasure is an interesting line as, according to the other reviews I’ve read, it seems than most ladies of the trade demanded that a man pull out, and a girl who allowed a man to stay in was actually quite rare. So, if you ever wondered how they avoided getting pregnant, it seems likely this was a major weapon in their arsenal.

These reviews are generally of a better class of prostitute, and many are terrible stories of girls who were taken advantage of and then tossed aside with no other option than to take to prostitution. However, there are also many many stories of girls who seem to enjoy it, as the above. Although Miss Grant herself was not a kept woman, many of them were, and received lodgings and an allowance. There’s a very funny account of one girl kept thus, who has to get past a the watchful eye of her master’s footboy in order to “satisfy the ravages of her confinement”.

Of course, you then have the highest class of courtesan. If you are interested, download (again for free) the memoires of Harriette Wilson, mistress to the great and the good and to whom, when she asked him for a few quid to have his name left out, the Duke of Wellington said “publish and be damned”.

Wonderfully written, is no wonder he was embarrassed by what they revealed about him. Ah, maybe he should have just given her the cash she asked for!

Practice Jokes Infrared Vision Rat

Scientists at Duke University in Durham, North Carolina recently hooked up a rat’s brain to an infrared detector. They would have used one of their students, but couldn’t find one intelligent enough.

The first animal to be given a sixth sense, his catch phrase is “I eat dead people…”

Unlike the control subject (a human with IR goggles), the rat didn’t once look at the female research assistant’s chest.

Jokes from a New Scientist Article 9 Feb 2013

Sucking carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere might curb global warming. And polarpigs might fly.
One controversial way proposed for sucking up this CO2 is the fertilising of the world’s oceans with iron. Another more practical solution would be to fertilise the oceans with members of the US Republican Party.

Some geoengineers claim releasing iron into the sea will stimulate plankton blooms, which absorb carbon and put off German tourists. They put off other tourists too, but it’s the German ones we’re worried about. With their towels and bratwurst. Awful for the environment.

New research has revealed that soot from oil-burning ships is dumping 1000 tonnes of soluble iron per year into the north Pacific.
Soot is the ship equivalent of poo, and iron is the ship equivalent of a night on the Guinnesses.

This uncontrolled experiment could have unforseen consequences. For instance, I once had a night on the Guinnesses and woke up with a traffic cone on my head.

Experiments suggest that fertilising the ocean with iron changes the population of algae. You get new, immigrant algae, coming her taking our algae’s jobs. Grr.

This algal change causes a shift from fish-dominated to jellyfish-dominated ecosystems. Which explains why, since having an iron lady prime minister, Britain has suffered under a generation of politicians with no backbones.

New Scientist Article: Ships Soot Soils the Seas (they have a different title but I prefer mine!)