Honey wrote:

Everyone knows this is a Thai-based B&S list, and I was very surprised to see the following news a bit ago: that the American sitcom "Joannie Loves Chachi" was banned in Thailand, because Chachi means "penis". It was the title of an episode of Mork and Mindy. Apparently it was the idea of the very hairy Mr Robin Williams, who liked "slipping" "rude things" "in", and there's an episode with a "Mr Bollocks" in it that's never been shown in Britain. ABSOLUTELY TRUE, according to The Grauniad. So probably not really.

Anyway, I thought I'd tell you about my strange experience today. Like many sad men, I use my penis solely for pissing. It's not fair, I know, but there we are. Anyway, I was wandering prettily through London's louche and fashionable Bromley by Bow, when I realised that my bladder was absolutely bursting. SO imagine my delight, as I saw the welcoming steps of a lovely old lavatory. I dashed across the road, knees straight, buttocks clenched, rushed down the steps and, with an ecstacy of fumbling, found my trouser sausage just in time. ROCK ON! It was only as the last drops of willy beer gurgled away down the drain that I noticed what I'd walked into. The air was smoky, the atmosphere close- all the lightbulbs removed, bar one. The room was tense with men, huddling away from the light like anti-moths. From one of the stalls came the sound of ernest moaning- two men finding their natural rhythm, intuitively responding to each others moves. I was confused- lost- but strangely transfixed. They reached an orgasmic climax, and then, it all went quiet. And then the saxophone solo kicked in. For twenty minutes. Freeform. I fought my way out, but the Gaulois laden air was like jam, or maybe treacle. Finally, I reached the door, and gulping in the daylight, I turned for one look back. The cubicle door opened. "Well I think that went quite well", said the first man, the spit of Jules Holland. "Aye, it did," said the other, his red haired friend. "Now can you move your boogie woogie piano, I'm trapped behind the cistern". I thought of my encounter for the rest of the day- a brief glimpse of a furtive, underground world. A world of roll necks, and horns. And Bongos. I also saw Stuart M rimming Whispering Bob Harris in a superloo in Spitalfields, but that's another long winded not very funny story. B&S swearing? Well I've got rather witty subtitle for Stuart David's book. It's "The (Diamond)Ring of Truth" Hahahahaha! Ring, like an arse. D'you see? Oh well, please yourselves. Great! P!O!P! thing that book. But it's rather sad, so don't read it if you cry easily. It's got a fox in it, mind, which almost makes up for the sad bits. Oh I'll piss off now. seb +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the reborn Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail "sinister@majordomo.net". To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to "majordomo@majordomo.net". WWW: http://www.majordomo.net/sinister +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "tech-heads and students" +-+ +-+ "the cardie wearing biscuit nibbling belle & sebastian list" +-+ +-+ "jelly-filled danishes" +-+ +----------------------------------------------------------------------+