Extra-Curricular Activities

Okay, that does it:  I am officially jealous of the younger generation, if this kind of thing is going to become commonplace:

An Oklahoma high school teacher was arrested for allegedly having a threesome with a student and another woman inside her home.
Joyce Churchwell, who worked as a volleyball coach at Berryhill High School in Tulsa, first connected with the student over Snapchat and began seeing him at her home last year, News on 6 reported.
The student “admitted that this encounter had taken place at the teacher’s home along with another adult female — a former teacher at the district.”

I mean, a high school kid bonking a nubile young teacher is one thing — but a threesome with another older woman?

Just… damn.

There Goes The Neighborhood

And another treasured institution falls over:

The Full English breakfast could die out within a generation because almost one in five young people living in the UK have never eaten a fry-up.
Despite being a mainstay of British society since the Victorian era, a nationwide study has revealed 17 per cent of British people under 30 have never tucked into the greasy breakfast food.
Millennials are avoiding the traditional meal due to health concerns, with a fifth of 18 to 30-year-olds saying they associate the dish with heart attacks and obesity.
The majority would prefer to have smoked salmon and scrambled eggs, smashed avocado on toast or oatmeal pancakes for breakfast over the Full English.

Here’s what they’re missing, the little shits:

Great Caesar’s bleeding hemorrhoids… how could this sublime creation be replaced by something that looks like calcified sputum on toast?

My own kids (Millennials all) would smother me in my sleep if I were to offer them this slop instead of a Full English on Christmas Day — or any day, come to think of it — but then they’re not Brits, are they?

I don’t want anyone to think that I’m unalterably set in my ways (“No, Kim!  Say it ain’t so!”) — I mean, the last time I had breakfast at Fortnum & Mason, I even had a delicious Duck Rarebit (fried duck egg on hot beer cheese over a piece of toast, as below):

…so I am open to a bit of change — I just don’t want the thing I temporarily changed from  to disappear because some pasty-faced weenies think it’s unheaaaaalthyyyy!

Let me promise you all one thing:  if the time comes when I go over to Blighty, go out for brekkie and find the Full English has disappeared from the menu, there will be murders.  Just the prospect  of “avo toast” on a breakfast table makes me feel weak.

Is it too early for a pint of gin?  I think not.

Morality Issue

Needless to say, I’ve never watched a single minute of the Brit TV show Love Island, in which (I think) a bunch of single people are thrown together in a closed-off environment to see which of them will pair off and find “love” — after bonking like bunnies, no doubt.  (My Brit friends tell me it’s as bad as it sounds, maybe worse.)  But that’s not why I’m talking about the stupid thing;  this is.

One of the contestants was recently revealed to be [gasp]  a keen big game hunter, and has had several photos published of him posed next to some dead animal or other.  Needless to say, in today’s culture, that makes him Literally Hitler or some such bullshit, and there have been calls for him to be tossed off the show — curiously, considering that the show revolves around wholesale fornication, he should be fired as an “issue of morality”.

So promiscuous sex is okay, but hunting is streng verboten?  Got it.

However, the producers of the show — at least at the time I write this — have refused all demands to fire the man, and basically told all the wokescolds to FOAD.

Good for them.

Hoofbeats? Not Really

I am always banging on [sic] about how the West is in decline because of moral degradation and such, but of late I have been much more forgiving of this kind of thing, when it is practiced by individualsHere’s an example:

“Since I started swinging, I’ve been having the best sex of my life, and have met so many new people.  Swinging over New Year is so fun, everyone is in such high spirits. It depends what you’re into, but for me swinging on New Year’s Eve is much more fun than a traditional party.”

Compare this kind of immoral behavior with teaching grade-school kids about anal sex, and I think you’ll see where I’m drawing the line.

I’m not saying that I’d ever do it, myself — just thinking about it makes me feel a little queasy — but if grownups, and especially Olde Pharttes with no encumbrances as in the linked story want to butter their bread that way, it’s NOMB.

Cluebat Needed

Some people just have no fucking clue.  Example #1:

I know that this may be seen as hateful / rayyciss / [insert epithet of choice]  to some — but what the complainers fail to realize is that handing out LGBTOSTFU flags to children is just as offensive to some people as waving the Confederate flag is to others.  If you allow the one, you have to allow the other.  The good news in this case is the sub-heading.

Example #2:

Nobody wants gun battles in churches.  However, if the choice is between “gun battle”  and “mass slaughter of innocent unarmed victims”, let’s just insist that “gun battle”  is the better option.  Not only that, but in even considering the slaughter as preferable, we can also say with certainty that people who are prepared to see mass slaughters of innocent unarmed victims just so that their anti-gun mantra is satisfied, are very bad people.

Innuendo, Death Of

The Brit version of our “dollar stores” (everything for a dollar) is named “Poundland”, and every year they spice up their Christmas commercials with something a little more daring.  This year was no exception:

Needless to say, the Perpetually Offended raced to the barricades, and the usual bullshit followed.

Now it’s my turn to be offended.  I happen to love using sexual banter, innuendo and double entendre  in my everyday speech.  I think sex is the spice of life, it’s certainly the spice of conversation, and as long as you don’t get crude and crass about it, it serves as both mental gymnastics and flirting.

I remember once having lunch with a coworker who happened to be an extraordinarily-beautiful woman — I mean, imagine a face like Monroe and a body like vintage Nigella, and you’re getting close.  As it happened, we decided to have dessert, and ordered:  she a strawberry sundae and I, a banana split.  When the dishes arrived, we both made a face of distaste.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She gestured at the maraschino sitting atop the sundae, and said, “I hate cherries.”  Then she asked, “And what’s wrong with yours?”
I pointed at the chopped nuts scattered all over the banana split, and said, “Ugh.”  (I hate mixing crunchy with soft textures in my food.)
Then I said, “Well, I’ll tell you what we can do.”
“What?”
“If you eat my nuts, I’ll pop your cherry.”

She laughed till the tears ran down her cheeks, then threw the cherry at me, still laughing.

I should point out that this incident took place in the early 1980s, when one could say stuff like this and not get arrested for aggravated patriarchy or whatever they call it these days.  Nowadays, of course, she’d complain to HR and I’d get crucified, lose my job and never be able to find work again.

I miss the old days.  God, I miss the old days.

Oh, and as for the story which introduced this post:  as much as I enjoy the occasional finger, I don’t really care much for the Cadbury’s version.