Personals

A couple of weeks ago, Tim wrote about coming up with a personal ad' for a friend. Such games enthuse me muchly. Reminded me of an undergraduate class that I took in which an effortfully 'out-there' tutor - a nice chap - asked us to come up with an ad' in less than 25 words. It was a way of getting us to think about language, the individual, society, and a creative way for the out-there one to bag a quick nubile shag. My point - Tim's post reminded me of the horror love-options that are vaunted in the local paper, so out of dark curiosity I had a gander. Therein, I discovered that under each section - male seeking female, female seeking male, et cetera et cetera et cetera et cetera (as is the case these days) - personal advertisers are listed from youngest to oldest. It's like reading through a 'have me' league table - functional, but a bit harsh too. My age-wise erring, in the language of football, is towards mid-table mediocrity. Yes, I'm having a touch of the Kirsty Warks again.

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My old pal GayFranglaise (GF) used to dabble with personal ads. On one occasion he recognised a telephone respondent as a writer of whom he'd read - and who he knew used 'experiences of personal ads' as material for his writing. GF did not get back to him. On another occasion, someone wrote a accidental response to an ad of GF. The letter-writing respondent had jotted down GF's 'box number' rather than the box number of the intended... target. That said, the friendly written correspondence that was built with the accidental writer was a warming outcome to the original box number error.

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If there's one thing that I cannot tolerate it's intolerance.

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Was at the supermarket earlier, I asked an assistant "Do you sell tofu?" She guided me to it then with a straight face said "It's the organic stuff, but it's ok". At this, I smiled a broad smile.

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This week, this story provoked a lot of nonsense about teenage pregnancy in the UK. In a BBC Radio 2 phone-in one person suggested that all pregnant teenagers be ordered to abort. Another person suggested that all pregnant and impregnating under-16s face imprisonment. Other people banged on (no pun intended) about that thing called 'education'. And I must say, having listened to such phone-ins I am inclined to agree. The levels of wit, wisdom, big-picture-savvy and social sophistication evidenced by those phone-inners did appall. I say "Educate them, let's contextualise the young pregnancies, and let's look at how early years parenting may be a better alternative to later (tired) years parenting".

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If. You. Believe...

Capricorn: The word 'no' does not exist for you this week.
Aquarius: Oil an actor's bicycle tyres, then invite them to break a leg.
Pisces: Book a seagull safari holiday in Whitby.
Leo: Begin this week's confession "Father, I didn't sin this week. Would you like to borrow my Cadfael tapes?"
Virgo: Enquire at your local grocery store about the range of pornography that they'd stock for you.
Libra: Reach out and touch Faith (avoiding charges of sexual harrassment).
Scorpio: Book a cheap flight to Spain.
Sagittarius: Less is more. Reduce your charitable donations.
Aries: Campaign for more teenage pregnancies.
Taurus: Write the opening line of an erotic hit-novel.
Gemini: Beware goat turds and dog cheese.
Cancer: Love thyself. Word of advice: Duracel.

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I loved it earlier this week when Emma's son Alex (4), after being told that he could take a piss on the compost heap, and not fully understanding, simply left the house and took a leak on the patio.