There's something else that I miss...

I was driving to work this morning and pondering what to Blog about today. and by the time i'd got to Historical Castle Donington, I'd decided that it was either going to be about football (Because my local team has decided to re-name its stadium and people are threatening to commit suicide) or breasts (Because my fellow Blogger Tattooed Mummy just did one and I thought I'd offer the male perspective).  But try as I might, I couldn't decide which one to do, what with them both being very emotive subjects.

So, I decided to trot out another one about how things were much better in the 'Good old days' than they are now, but to combine the subjects I'd previously thought of.

Ok, so it happened more in the olden days than it does now... Involves football... And breasts... It can only be?..

(Actually, all of you people who just thought 'spit-roasting' can just leave, right now - There's no place here for people like you here, this is a family Blog.)

I am, of course, talking about streaking.  The act of taking off all/most of your clothes and making an organised public event 1000% more interesting - Often as a form of protest, but mostly to show off.  And who hasn't, if they're being completely honest, ever just wanted to remove all of their clothes in a completely inappropriate situation and then have a bit of a jog about the place? It's like, guerrilla naturism and it should be given our wholehearted support.  I mean, I can remember saying, on many occasions, 'I should like to give that young, naked, statuesque lady my wholehearted support.'

*cough*

Anywho, I would probably say that the the first person to bring this time honoured tradition to my personal attention was a young lady by the name of Erica Roe at Twickenham in 1982.

Aye, she could certainly fill a policeman's helmet could young Erica

(We won 15-11 By the way - Seems that the Aussies may have gotten a little distracted)

To an impressionable fourteen year old boy, she was the very epitome of pulchritude, and the fact that she bore more than a passing resemblance to Sally James didn't hurt either.  It seems that she, and her friend Sarah Bennett (also pictured, being covered up by John Bull, with a Union Flag - Be honest, you hadn't spotted her had you? Me either.) Had gotten a little bit drunk and did it for a dare... How very British!  What's even more British is that she did it in January and it was pretty cold - Which you can see in some of the 'other' pictures that are freely available on the Internet, but it doesn't account for why the Copper is sweating...

However, because I'm a completely law abiding citizen, I must warn you that streaking is currently illegal in the UK and is covered (if you'll pardon the pun) under the Sexual Offences act and, depending on who sees you, what the circumstances are and the sense of humour quotient of the arresting officer, the punishment can range from a hearty 'Put your clothes back on and bugger off.' through, a lifetime ban on entry to the venue where you streaked, to two-years imprisonment and your name on the Sex-Offenders register... Although an £80 fine and a good, hard, quoting of the Public Order act seems to be popular at the moment.

Also, you have to remember though that not so long ago, nakedness was a major part of organised sporting events. Wrestling in the original Olympic Games for instance was originally conducted naked, covered in olive oil too... probably.  Actually, I think that this is as good a time as any, to introduce today's new word...

PLETHRON:  The length/width of a Greek Wrestling square, 100 Ancient Greek (just called Greek at the time, obviously) feet - Which, strangely was the width of the gap in the middle of an Olympic running track... Spooky!

If you'd like to picture the scene, you've got a couple of oiled-up Greek chaps, chasing each other around a 30 meter square of sand making the Zoidberg woop-woop-woop noise, trying to pin someone to the floor, I'm sure you can imagine the opportunities for junk-flappity action that this 'sport' involved.  Although don't get me wrong, it wasn't a free-for-all, there were rules... Some of which included:

• Grasping of the Genitals is prohibited. (which is where it's different from most of you guys' standard Saturday night out I'm guessing.)
• No gouging of the eyes or biting is allowed (see above)
• Infractions should be punished by immediate whipping by the Referee until the undesirable behaviour is stopped.

Is anyone else really surprised that the phrase 'Homo-Erotic' is of Greek origin?

-oOo-

And finally, as this Blog usually comprises my thoughts and experiences, you'll all be glad to know that I, your ever-loving Blogger have, indeed, streaked myself.  It wasn't at a sporting event, because I'm not particularly 'sporty'.

It was however down a busy shopping street, in the center of my home town (Well, city technically I suppose) and was the the upshot of someone saying 'You daren't'.

It seems that 'I certainly do dare'...

A discussion of pornography, do not read

Today's Blog might end up being a bit NSFW, if a page of text can be regarded as Not Safe For Work that is, I mean, I can understand someone sat at the desk next to you being offended by being suddenly confronted with a picture of an oiled, pneumatic, professional female model, wearing just a natural suntan and a length of knotted string appearing on your screen, but not a page of barely legible writing.

Actually, hang on a second, thinking about that, I can't really understand. It might not be professional, it might not be what you're being paid to do, but the human body is a wonderful, beautiful thing... Well,I know mine is, I can't vouch for more than about fifteen other people's though.

I've worked in a lot of offices in my life and one thing I can say with surety is that I have seen many, many, more posters, calenders and desktop wallpapers that feature topless, oiled, zero body fat, elegantly coiffed, seductively posed, perfectly airbrushed, staring straight into the camera as if they are looking directly into your soul so that it makes you think they're in a relationship with you, MEN, than I ever have bikini clad WOMEN.

(OK, I've worked in a lot of factories and building sites where it was pretty much wall to wall boobage pictures, but that doesn't help my argument, so forget I said it, OK?)

I overheard a heated discussion between a pair of workmates once, in an office that we were upgrading. I think it was the guys birthday, and one of his mates had bought him an A2 sized poster of a Page 3 Girl, not a topless picture, she was dressed in swimwear, when a tweed clad harridan came storming across the office,

'Don't think you're putting that up in here!'

'Well, no, I was going t...'

'It's pornography, degrading to women, It's disgusting, it's against the code of conduct!'

The guy dutifully rolled up his poster and put it back in the tube, then looked at her and said, 'But what about the topless Fireman calender you have next to your desk?'

'Obviously that's different, it's just a bit of fun, you're just jealous that you don't look like that!'

OK, so she was obviously a cow, and I know that all women aren't like that, not by a long way, because I wish to remain in possession of my external sexual characteristics. Women are great... Oh yes, definately, I love me some women... Hoo yes... But, there seems to be a bit of a dichotomy where the old sexualisation is concerned, where the lines between erotica and pornography exactly are - Time for some definitions I think, via the OED:

Definition of pornography

noun



[mass noun]
printed or visual material containing the explicit description or display of sexual organs or activity, intended to stimulate sexual excitement.
　
Definition of erotica

noun



[mass noun]
erotic literature or art.
Hmm... That last one wasn't a great deal of help was it? Let's see what erotic actually means then:

Definition of erotic

adjective
relating to or tending to arouse sexual desire or excitement:
Now, it might just be me, but it doesn't sound like there's any real difference between the two terms. I guess you could argue (If you were a twunt) that Pornography is actually intended to provoke a physical, sexual response by explicit, graphic, depiction, where Erotica just 'arouses the desire' as it were. Although I think that that might just be splitting hairs.

I think that a more reasonable, and easy to understand, division for the vanilla masses would be, if it's targeted at Men, it's pornography. Because men are base animals who like looking at pictures of glistening ladyparts. However, if it's targeted at women then it's erotica, because women are beautiful, cerebral, floaty creatures full of imagination, romanticism and passion.

I don't like to bring up this example because it's lazy, but it's the elephant in the room as far as this subject is concerned. E.L. James' Fifty Shades or Grey. Described by Amazon as 'An Erotic Romance', Strangely not described as 'A BDSM porno primer for the Twilight generation' The book that did more for the average birthrate of the English speaking world than anything since Kim Basinger got herself covered in Trifle in 9 1/2 Weeks.

Shouldn't it really be regarded as porn? I mean, you can't tell me that all of it's 65,000,000 copies have been purely read by people in stable relationships who have become heated whilst considering its adult themes and shown their love for each other physically after putting an interesting Guatamalan knitted bookmark carefully in the page and letting the cat out? Surely some have been read in ten minute sections by a young secretary in the disabled toilet cubicle at work with her Primark skirt up around her waist, some by students on the 08:34 from Ongar, where only one of their hands is visible above the table and the rythmic to-ing and fro-ing of the train masks any other hand movement that's being made? And still more, curled up on the sofa, with a box of chocolates, a glass of crisp chardonnay and no underwear?

But still, whaddo I know? Maybe they've all been bought by fifty-something unfulfilled people who get a kick out of thinking how naughty they're being, who am I to judge? As long as it makes you happy, and you don't do it in the crisps and snacks aisle of Sainsburys whilst there are kiddies about, more power to your elbow...

Actually, I suppose I could have put that better... Nevermind

But if you really want to read some porn that's directed at women, get yourself some Anais Nin. It'll put hairs on your palms AND it's well written, and that makes all the difference, trust me.