On february 5th, Ian Stafford, the ex-mayor of Preesall in Lancashire, will be sentenced after admitting breaking into a number of women's homes and stealing their underwear. The sort of sexual hysteria that tends to accompany stories like this means that Stafford is now likely to receive a fairly lengthy custodial sentence and one would have to concede that his job as a handyman/gardener is also in some jeapordy.
This unfortunate young man has now been branded as some sort of pathetic heteroclite for indulging in what is, put simply, a bit of harmless foolery. Foolery which in my day would have got him nothing more than a swift clip round the ear, a shoe up the jacksie and a couple of soiled negligees to send him on his way. As I see it, the case against Stafford seems to rely on the assumption that he was getting some sort of sexual gratification from his activities but, having indulged in similar behaviour for many years, I can assure you that any sexual pleasure derived from fingering a spinster's smalls is fleeting, and soon gives way to a kind of empty, shallow compulsion. Like drinking on a weekday or a Paul McCartney tour.
Of course, if these self styled 'modern girls' with all their opinions and their equal rights were a bit more bloody accomodating then this sort of thing would never go on. Stafford was an elected Mayor for christ's sake, it should have been pussy on-tap.
As someone who has been contemplating stepping into the local political arena for some time I can assure you that horror stories such as this do nothing to attract the sensible observer.
I wonder how many other potentially brilliant political strategists have been put off because of this unyielding desire to expose his every casual perversion?
What an absolute disgrace. If I had the money and I knew how to I'd get T-shirts printed with slogans and all sorts.
Showing posts with label british coal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label british coal. Show all posts
Sunday, 10 January 2010
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