John Legend didn't half get that right, did he, as RAB at 'Counting Cats...' points out with utter astonishment?
And following on from that, the saga of 'Bob The Builder' and his shiny yellow helmet:
The man said he called police as soon as he spotted the hard-hat wearing man after he started rubbing himself on his car window.The police, unlike the real Bob, didn't seem all that inclined to fix it...
"But they didn't want to take my statement. They want you to come forward but it was like they really didn't care."But the council had a rather interesting solution to the problem, it has to be said:
More than 300 locals signed a petition to close down the lay-by earlier this year after saying it was 'being used for all kinds of sexual activity' and that children at the Puttenham Church of England Primary School could see the antics from the playground.Why the hell would bulls put them off, if they get off on public sex?
Surrey County Council, however, refused to close the lay-by, saying it would be 'unfair on legitimate visitors' and suggested putting bulls in a nearby field to 'put the doggers off'.
8 comments:
This was the most surreal bit:
'Earlier this year it was disclosed that police spent £124.93 on tea, coffee and biscuits for doggers at the site in a bid to "build up trust" and encourage them to report "hate crimes".'
Tea and biscuits - so typically English, somehow...
I first encountered the term 'public sex environment' about 15 years ago when I got wind of Police-gay liaison meetings and turned up to see what was going on. (I did not receive a warm welcome: apparently they were all 'community leaders' or representatives, while I was just someone who did a proper job). One of the professional sodomites mentioned 'PSEs' and resented having to explain its meaning to me. A robust exchange of views ensued.
Using this term to describe parks or public conveniences is an offensive attempt to legitimise their (ab)use by a (currently) favoured minority; that it's now being used by Plod in official documents shows how far we've sunk.
Thanks for the link Julia, much appreciated. I'm almost getting the hang of this blogging malarky now.
A good friend of my family was a Detective Chief Superintendent, who really should have become Chief Constable of South Wales on merit, but point blank refused to roll the trouser leg up or learn the funny handshake.
He and his wife were having dinner at our house on night, when he got the inevitable phone call call out.He practically never got through dinner without a phone call from headquarters.
The Bishop of Llandaff had been caught cottaging in the Hayes Loos again, and he had to go and give him a bloody good talking to (it was 1966 and homosexuality was still illegal) and cover it up by losing the paperwork.
He would have fired on the spot anyone coming up with that 60 page report. He must be spinning in his grave.
Making homsexuality legal was fine, making it compulsory, is not.
'Cause bulls are big huge scary creatures who are very inquistive.
Best think to put someone off sex is a a huge beast sniffing around - or would that be what they are looking for? ;-P
"Tea and biscuits - so typically English, somehow..."
Indeed!
"I did not receive a warm welcome: apparently they were all 'community leaders' or representatives, while I was just someone who did a proper job..."
Well, quite! They'll tell everyone in their identity groups what their opinions are. No making their minds up for themselves, now!
" He must be spinning in his grave."
It's hard to see why they insist on calling it 'progress'.
"...or would that be what they are looking for?"
It could well have the opposite effect!
Seems we'll have to list countryside pursuits as cottaging and dogging rather than crofting and foxhunting, so I suppose that is progress of a sort?
Didn't that sign say 'Little Frigging on the Wold, and why are you carrying that hand-basket?
SadButMadLad is correct. You go and try and do anything in a field with cattle in, and straight away you'll be surrounded by large inquisitive animals that weigh well over half a tonne. If you're brave, stupid or horny enough to continue in the act in such cirumstances then you're a better man than me.
And while the idea of getting plastered in cow sh1t might appeal to a very small minority of freaks, I think is would put off even the most ardent 'dogging' afficionado.
Same problem is described in The Observer. But the real treat here is the comments. I feel like an alien in my own country - was I out when a memo went round? When did Middle England become batshit crazy?
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