When I drive home from doing a newspaper review on News 24 I usually listen to Stephen Nolan's phone in programme on Radio 5 Live. Last night I tuned in at a quarter past midnight to be 'entertained' by a discussion about the merits of a rampant rabbit. I have to admit that I had never heard of such an implement but soon came to understand that it is, how shall I put it, something which enables ladies to (as the tabloids would say) pleasure themselves.
It was a strangely compelling 45 minutes in that I kept wanting to switch over to something else but didn't want to miss out on anything! There was a fantastic caller called Anne, who was obviously of fairly advanced years, who had me laughing out loud. She was obviously gagging to buy one but couldn't quite imagine herself walking into an Ann Summers shop. And then this morning, flicking through the Indy on Sunday I spotted an article on the same subject by Rowan Pelling, which you can read HERE. Well, you could if you were willing to fork out £60 to the Indy, which I am not. It's on Page 56 if you have the paper to hand.
The point I am coming to, in a Ronnie Corbett-esque manner, is this. Why is it now socially acceptable to discuss womens' masturbatory aids in polite circles, when if one were to have the same conversation about blow up dolls for men (and God alone knows what else) you would be hung drawn and quartered by the feminist lobby, which no doubt believes blow up dolls are demeaning to women. Well what about the poor bloody rabbits!!!
Imagine, you're a poor little fluffy bunny wandering around a nice country garden, and suddenly you look through the conservatory windows and spy the Mistress of the House.... [end this NOW -ed]
I'll just get my coat...
PS Guido is apparently on the same programme tonight. God alone knows what he will be talking about.
PS I was going to illustrate this piece with a picture of the offending item, but having done a Google image search it's given me quite a funny turn. Must go and lie down. Alone.