Poundland Nooky

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There aren’t many great things to write about Hounslow, other than me being in it isn’t the sort of place that brings in visitors. There’s a tired shopping centre, an Asda (whose car park has just been closed), lots of planes going over and Hounslow Heath, which frankly is just a large bit of scrubland whatever their website tells you about it being a “Local Nature Reserve and Site of Importance for Nature Conservation (of Metropolitan Importance)” I really wouldn’t make the effort to see it.

​What Hounslow does boast is three, yes THREE Poundlands. I have no idea why we need three Poundlands, especially as the high street also boasts a brand new PoundWorld, a 99p shop and a 97p shop. Seriously, the three Poundlands are literally five minute walks away from each other. You may have seen the press this week about Poundland’s new sex toy range. Sex toys, in Poundland, for a quid?! Yes, indeedy!

​Actually, they first released their pound bullet vibe a few years back (how did I miss this?!) but now they have extended their range further. It’s called Nooky. Of course it is.

Beware: Necrophiliac Paramedics!

A conversation I had this morning with JTA, via text message:

I sent:

Boiler update: this is getting silly. The probability-weighted Markov-chain based predictive text system I’m using this morning saw me type “boi” and suggested “Boiler update:”? /sighs/
On the upside, I’ve successfully arranged for the new distributor valve to be installed on Friday, when I’ll be around.

To give a little background, we’re having trouble with the boiler on Earth. You may have observed that it broke last year, and then again this year: well – it’s still broken, really. Nowadays it’ll only produce a little hot water at a time, and makes a noise like that scene in Titanic where the ship begins to tear in two. You know – a bad noise for a boiler to make. Over the last two or three weeks we’ve repeatedly fought to get it repaired, but it’s been challenging: more on that in a different blog post, if JTA doesn’t get there first.

JTA replied:

On the plus side, at least this saga is overriding your phone’s memory of your previous life as a male prostitute. :-)

I was once mistaken for a gay prostitute, actually – by a gay prostitute – but that’s another story, I guess. In any case, I responded:

Until now! you’ve just mentioned that again, which means it’ll be the “last message received” when the paramedics go through my phone if I’m killed on the way to work this morning. And they’ll say, “yeah; I’d pay to have sex with him.”

Quickly followed by:

And his mate will say:
“Now he’s dead, you don’t HAVE to pay.”
If my corpse is raped by a paramedic, I’m blaming you.

To which JTA said:

You’re talking about people who drive blacked out vans full of drugs. I’m pretty sure they never pay.

From prostitution to necrophilia to date rape over the course of only a handful of text messages. What a great start to a Wednesday morning. I do like the image of an ambulance as “a blacked out van full of drugs,” though…

U.W.A. Professor Dies At ‘Massage’ Parlour

I laughed.

[picture rem0ved]

The chap pictured above, a certain Dr. Williams, professor in economics and astronomy, was found dead this morning at a massage parlour in Cardiff (full story here). Just out of curiosity, I looked up the parlour in question. sexywales.com reports it as follows:

A Touch Of Class Massage
112 Woodville Road, Cardiff
029 2023 6880

It turns out that one has to go all the way to Cardiff to get a good prostitute. I’ve looked on PunterNet UK, and I can’t find any reviews in Aberystwyth at all! It anybody knows of any working girls in Aber, please submit them to PunterNet, as they seem to be lacking!

Anyway; that naughty issue aside, I’ll get back to work.

Claire Goes To Norfolk

My love, Claire, disappeared to Norfolk today. I won’t see her for a week. My horniness is going to be unmeasurable within days. Hmm… I wonder how much a prostitute costs around here?

A quick search on PunterNet UK (a prostitute review site) doesn’t find any ladies for hire in Aberystwyth. That’s disgraceful. I think I should write to the government and get a ‘job creation scheme’ underway here. Yet again this coast of Wales is left in a rut. Gutted.

Threw my hand on the bed and raped it, instead.