Every now and then, some prominent homosexual – Elton John, Ricky Martin – announces he’s “coming out”.
Wrong approach, in my opinion. Wouldn’t it be better instead to announce when he’s “going in”, at which time he could be advised to choose a much more pleasant route?
But the homos have won their battle. Britain, the United States and now Canada are set to pressure anyone who feels that buggery shouldn’t be encouraged. Bankey Moon is in there too, trumpeting gay rights far and wide.
I never paid much attention to this “coming out” thing until last weekend. Another group now also wants to “come out”. And they have asked me to do some PR work prior to their public announcement. (Actually, their problem seems to be more “getting in” than “coming out” but that’s not my call.)
In keeping with the general trend they call themselves “getnosexuals”. As in heterosexuals, homosexuals, getnosexuals.
The name more or less explains it. Membership is open to sexually starved males, 16 to 96, who would like, but aren’t getting, you know what I mean. You’d be surprised at how many there are right here in Bim.
More on the getnosexuals later. They expect solid support from the European and American governments, the Human Rights bodies and all that.
A march through Bridgetown is planned with music blaring: “I can’t get no . . . satisfaction!” and “Long, long, long, long time I ain’t had no nice time . . .” and placards declaring: “All we want is peace!” (They’re not too hot at spelling.)
Maybe they should try streaking. Be wise and advertise as the slogan went.
In Tuesday’s DAILY?NATION, Antoinette Connell wondered why people streak. I haven’t done it in a while, but as boys at Vaucluse we would celebrate a heavy downpour by running around the factory yard with only card boxes over our heads. Up to recently, a well known socialite couple rode their district naked late at night on a motorcyle. It’s a sweet feeling.
And streaking goes back way before Antoinette’s 1700. Lady Godiva in 10-something rode unclad through Coventry to protest a cruel tax. (Could La Suckoo be persuaded to do likewise re: our VAT?)
In 265 BC, 22-year-old Archimedes ran naked through the streets shouting “Eureka!” Women marvelled at his remarkable principle.
Rumour has it Bizzy also had a Eureka moment. Frustrated at having to climb over virtual mountains to get to the bathroom, he arose one morning inspired. Exiting the house in only his pyjama pants, he rushed up to the Prime Minister’s residence shouting: “Flyover!”
“Calm down, Bizzy,” soothed Owen, “Your fly’s open but what’s this about flyovers?”
Is there always something lewd about a naked man? Does Michelangelo’s David offend? In Bajan folklore, the notorious Beresford Harper only overstepped the boundary when he shook his principle at the lady in question. And therein lies the crux of the matter.
Critics Market Vendor and Al Gilkes both know know that male principles are like extension ladders. Some extend a little, some can stretch way out.
One of my brothers has been the envy of his yachting companions because his jib-boom seems always at full mast. Ladies love to dance with him. Brother Ted doesn’t have that facility but adds: “Let me give it two shakes and I will stand next to any man!”
Any female can tell you it’s not all important how a ladder looks in storage. It’s rather whether it will get to those hard-to-reach places when the occasion demands. And do so without breaking at a critical moment.
It goes back to that other Archimedes’ principle: “The angle of the dangle is directly proportional to the heat of the meat.”
In this respect, the young Kensington streaker has been maligned. Cold conditions, subsequent shrinkage, and from all reports, he was in stand-by mode.
However, while our streaker’s true potential may never be known, there’s no doubt about a celebrated stud now visiting. Happy 77th birthday to Roger Wright of Canada, here for his 43rd visit with wife Gloria. No streaking, Roger, please!
