WARNING! ADULT CONTENT!

Actually, the title is counterproductive. It’ll attract the ones who shouldn’t read it like a bucket of ordure attracts flies on a hot day. I should have put “A Dissertation on Ancient Etruscan Architecture.” But that would have severely reduced my readership.

I used to write articles for one of those adult magazines they put on the top shelves. Thus placing them out of the reach of children, (if a kid wants one I always lift them up so they get at it. Only joking). This of course means that any height challenged adult is deprived of these periodicals. Which, to me, doesn’t seem fair. Let them have a crack at the whip, I say. Especially if they’re into BDSM. They paid well. (The magazines, not the height challenged adults). And so they should because there was an obvious occupational health hazard. Yes, you’ve guessed it. Unless the writer had strong will power they could end up compulsive self-abusers. Shambling, hunchbacked, hairy palmed, half blind wrecks. The sort of people who, in order to get out of their beds in the morning, would have to take a toffee hammer to their sheets.

The point of all this, (and there is a point), is that I’m tempted to have another go at it. This time there’s no danger. Ever since the unfortunate episode concerning a drunken female dwarf and a nutcracker, sex for me has been a fond memory. How fond? I can send you details in a plain brown paper envelope. The article I always wanted to write was on necrophilia. Yes, I know it would have been a dead end job. I mentioned it to one editor and he told me that necrophiliacs preferred to keep what they do in the dark.

‘What?’ I said. ‘Don’t they ever turn the light on?’

Which is a bit silly because you can so easily bump into things. Anyway, I digress. I can imagine articles on necrophilia have always dwelled on the negative side. I’d be the first to admit that it doesn’t have a romantic image. You’d never read about a necrophiliac love affair in a Mills & Boon novel. Or see a West End musical about it. However, my article will present it in a more positive light. When you think about necrophilia, (difficult as that may be), you’ll admit it does have certain advantages. For example, no longer will your partner be able to make disparaging remarks. Remarks like, “Was THAT it?” Satisfaction is guaranteed. And there are no inhibitions. Your partner will be open to anything – especially after the post mortem. Parting would not be such sweet sorrow. There’d be no need to come up with an excuse to end it. The only reason would be that your partner was beginning to smell too much. And, with cremation, there’s the chance to keep your conquests on the mantelpiece. See? There ARE advantages. I bet you’re tempted to give it a try, right?

In which case, there’s more good news. Using my proposed Sweeny Todd Cookbook, you could eat your partner afterwards. Thus satisfying two appetites. And, just to add an element of paranoia, I’d mention the fact that the job of undertaker would probably attract necrophiliacs. In which case, how can you be absolutely sure that the guy you hire isn’t taking advantage of a loved one in the Chapel of Rest? (That would make a great horror story). And I’d finish with the story of the embalmer who was very popular because he always left a smile on their faces.

jgs vf lbhe ceboyrz?

Thank God for GCHQ! Without their help your message would have been meaningless! Yes, you may have a point there. I always thought that this particular group were just a bunch of windbags, but their connection with the suspect known as “Semtex Corset” is particularly worrying. If they were farm workers, then that amount of fertilizer would be quite normal. Not to mention the sugar. I’m told that some farmers actually bake a confectionary called “Dung Cakes.” I think we need to keep these people under observation. After all, remember what happened last time?