Sunday, March 27, 2011

DEAR UNCLE WILLIAM

My favourite Dalry greasy spoon, of which there are sadly too few anywhere nowadays, has as limited choice of reading matter as it does filled rolls. But I do like the atmosphere of the place. And eating and reading go so well together that I'll even reach for a tabloid newspaper in the absence of the café's copy of Nuts.

The thing is, there's almost nothing to read in these rags bar gossip on 'celebrities' I've genuinely never heard of, maybe a tiny vaguely alarmist footnote on page 12 or so about impending apocalypse in Japan or the Middle East, or wasteful reams of dreary sports coverage. That said, there are pervy flesh-pics to drool over, and best still, the personal problems page. Personal meaning sexual, that is.

Troubled souls who write to the tabloids' letters pages could undoubtedly do without me foisting completely unsolicited ethically questionable advice and comments upon their already adequately constructed misery racket. But I'm old enough not to apologise for doing so anyway, none of my bullshit can be much worse than Tracey's, Jane's, or Deidre's. Especially Tracey's.

Expect more, much more, of this.

NAUGHTY KNICKERS
(Daily Star Sunday, 27/3/11)
My husband is always going on about me never wearing sexy underwear so I bought some and put it on for him the other night. His response was to rip it off the second he saw it. I spent all that money and made the effort but what's the point if he's not even going to look at it on me?

Uncle William says:
What the fuck is this woman's problem?
The only way the outcome could have worked more exquisitely for her is if hubby, in addition to ripping her frillies off, had stuffed her fancy bra and lacy panties down her throat and tied her arms to the bedposts with her ripped black nylons, ripped from having been forcibly led round the room on all fours like a dog. And then, without further ado, had proceeded to screw her as good and as hard as she'd only been able to once upon a time dream about.
Seriously, the only reason some women like to talk up all the soft ambient music, candles, nibbles, massages, and endless foreplay crap is because they don't really want to fuck you. See, a guy takes one look at the object of his desire, in this case his middle-aged wife in fine lingerie, and he's ready and able. Now, that's all it takes. It's a huge compliment, so just be grateful.

8 comments:

richardrj said...

fine stuff William as always, look forward to the rest of this unmissable series. Try and be grateful eh.

Shonx said...

I really think they should headhunt you for your agony uncle skills

CarlyCrosby said...

Amen to the advice! Haha some women and not realizing how men work! You have to understand the target audience before you advertise!
I enjoy your blog, pretty funny, and I must agree eating+reading=wonderful.

Tony said...

Hi 5

Terence said...

there are good greasy spoons on dalry?

William Bennett said...

@Richard, @Shonx, @Carly, @Tony thanks for all the nice comments!

@Terence, yes, at least three that I know of - CJ's arguably the best ;-)

Miss Kerry said...

Two memorable comments on lingerie, given to me in my ignorance and seeking understanding.
to father-
me-daddy, ( showing him a proto-madonna outfit, worn without any understanding whatsoever on how men's minds work at age 14 ) this bustier is really uncomfortable.
father- ( under his breath )that's because you only meant to have it on for 5 minutes.)
me- what? Do I look good?
father- well I will tell you two things. As a man, I'd would think, sure you look very good in that. As your father, there is no way Im letting you out of the house like that!

second-
( to current date, who I was sharing a bunk-bed in a room full of snoring fraternal brothers, at a retreat wherein, I was locked out of my own room and had no place to sleep.
What do you think of lingerie?
him-( muttering under his breath)uh, it takes too long to get off.

Needless to say, that woman was fucking lucky.
And even stupider than I was.

Miss Kerry said...

its no wonder I never got laid my entire life.
i must think like a man.
everytime i got all that delay crap, movies, candles, etc- all I could think was- WTF? anything is better waste of time than actually touching me?
admittedly , hyperactivity does tend to remove ones patience with people.
but why, if they wanted to have some fun, did we have to have all this other stuff to waste time?
if i want fucking dinner, i'll cook.
if i want romance, ill just ask.
for gods sake, why is it considered so obscene to ask for sex when your female?
romance is nice but its a headfuck.
I asked a lover about WTF ws up with women, I had been reading books on relationship advice ( seeing as he and I had a what he called, a relatonship that society wouldnt recognize , i thought maybe i should see what they actually did recognize ( and yes, i have been locked in a closet for the last 30 years, if your asking.)
what i found was so convoluted, so twisted with head fuckery, games, power plays and ploys- that i couldnt make sense of any of it.
and ALL the books were like that!
needless to say, he told me not to bother with such rubbish.
even more oddly, this person who i find refreshing direct, truthful, honest, nice,exciting- told me that as much as he'd love a family, no relationships ever lasted. i asked why, he said, i dont know!
he asked me, and i said, no one will have one with me. he said why, i said, i dont know!

needless to say, we are allied in firm friendship on such stupidty ( as the above letter )being banished to the outer darkness,of gnashing teeth.