These are the confessions - such as they are of a non-drinking, monogamous, heterosexual, omnivore.
The Ginger Mumbly is a humorous and humourous, satirical, column. People who like this will probably like reading books.
They'll be interested in second hand books.
I also write about cafes - both in Brighton, where I now live and in Cambridge, where I used to live.
I spend a lot of my time in Cafes and have very strong opinions about what makes a good one.
And sometimes I write about travel, I like Paris, Berlin, Athens.
It's a secular, militantly agnostic site, so there probably isn't much point sending ads for religious organisations.
They will probably like reading authors like Hunter S. Thompson, P J O' Rourke, Saki, Mark Twain, James Thurber, Charlie Booker, Damon Runyan.
They might like TV shows like "The Thick of It", "The Mighty Boosh", "The Wire", "Arrested Development".
The might like films like "A life Aquatic", or "The Big Lebowski"
Sins of the Flesh
The mind can play tricks but the body just tells you lies. Big fat hormonal whoppers. There are endless
stand-up comedy routines and cartoons putting forward the idea that a man's penis has a mind of its own.
But this is just a quaint fiction put around by men to hide the true horror of the situation. A man's mind IS
his penis. Or at least its influence is far more instantaneous and difficult to resist than any cute picture
depicting a dialogue with it would have you believe. I was walking past a strip club on the edge of Soho
once. There was a girl in the window trying to drum up trade. As I walked past she caught my eye. I don't
quite know what it was she did. But she was obviously very practised at it. She sort of stared at me and
widened her eyes in this super sexy fashion , instantly tugging at something well below my heart strings (I
don't know if it's possible to voluntarily dilate your pupils, but that's what she seemed to be doing). This is
the kind of thing that if you were sending your daughters to Swiss finishing school, you'd hope they'd be
teaching them. They'd never go hungry. Never mind that setting the table, addressing the servants, how to
eat a pear with a knife and fork nonsense. Huh? No. Sorry. No idea where that tangent came from. I
appear to be being sent telepathic messages by a Maltese brothel keeper. Now where was I?
She wasn't even that good looking, plainish-looking in fact and fully, almost frumpishly clothed. This
woman was obviously a professional, obviously sitting there for no other reason than to pull in the punters.
When not tempting drunkards to their penniless doom with her industrial-strength come-hither looks, she
seemed to be posing for a painting called "The Face of Boredom". But what flashed through my mind?
"Maybe I'm different from all the others, maybe I've got a special something that attracts her. Maybe she
really does fancy me..." Of course, the thought didn't last long before it received a terminal kicking from
my common sense, but even so, the fact that it made it as a thought at all shows just how easy it is for our
nether regions to punch the rationality override button. And ah yes, I suppose it does reveal in startling
detail what a pathetic creature worthy only of utter ridicule I am. Ah well, too late now.
As you can see, I worry an awful lot about these random, unaccountable, dark and daft thoughts. But
when, as sometimes happens at the end of a long evening with an old friend, we begin volunteering
confidences, and I start to stutteringly confess them, I always get the same reaction - "Yeah, yeah,
everybody wants to do that," or "Really? That's your dark thought? That's the worst you can do?" and then
for a few minutes I find my self in the weird situation of worrying that perhaps my dark thoughts aren't
dark enough. Then I realise how drunk I am and go to bed.
These are the confessions - such as they are of a non-drinking, monogamous, heterosexual, omnivore.
The Ginger Mumbly is a humorous and humourous, satirical, column. People who like this will probably like reading books.
They'll be interested in second hand books.
I also write about cafes - both in Brighton, where I now live and in Cambridge, where I used to live.
I spend a lot of my time in Cafes and have very strong opinions about what makes a good one.
And sometimes I write about travel, I like Paris, Berlin, Athens.
It's a secular, militantly agnostic site, so there probably isn't much point sending ads for religious organisations.
They will probably like reading authors like Hunter S. Thompson, P J O' Rourke, Saki, Mark Twain, James Thurber, Charlie Booker, Damon Runyan.
They might like TV shows like "The Thick of It", "The Mighty Boosh", "The Wire", "Arrested Development".
The might like films like "A life Aquatic", or "The Big Lebowski"