Ditch The Y-Fronts - If I Could See You Naked I Would Die Happy ! (Room 101)

Member Name: Sexy Kay

Product:	Room 101
Date:	07/03/02 (984 review reads)
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"If I could see you naked I would die happy."

"Yea right, and if I could see you naked I would die laughing."

"Don't be like that, I know how to please a woman."

"Then you'll know how to leave me alone."

"OK, I realise I'm no Fred Flintstone, but I could make your Bedrock."

"Please, get lost."

"I will, I'm sorry. It's just that I've spent all night looking for a sexy, intelligent girl. I was hoping you'd give me your phone number so I could call her.

And so it goes on. Don't you just hate corny chat up lines? So with my Room 101 Zapper fully charged it's ...

... Zap corny chat up lines.

"Oh not you again. What now?"

"F*** me if I'm wrong, but you want to f*** me don't you?"

This calls for immediate action so ...

... Zap the F word.

I suppose I'm not altogether opposed to the F word. It does have its uses. If you hurt yourself perhaps, or in some personal, private moment or maybe when describing some erotic experience. But it's got to the stage now where a large lump of humanity (no, I didn't mention football) are only able to string a sentence together if they include this word, either as it is, or by adding an 'ing' or an 'ed'. If we got rid of it many would fall almost silent and be incapable of expressing themselves - which wouldn't be a bad thing, would it?

Crime would drop. "Give me the f-f-f .... what sort of f-f-f money do I f-f-f want? ... oh f-f-f, I don't f-f-f know. F-f-f ...", and they would spin out of control like a demented dicky Dalek.

And some of those stand up comedians would have to write some new material. They'd have to do something other than shout a lot and say, "F***". It would, with a bit of luck, be the end
of having to listen to the likes of Billy Connolly on stage, for example. He seems to still be under the impression that it's shocking to say f*** and that any audience will roll up in hysterics if he does. Welcome to the 21st century Billy! I'm tempted to give him a quick zap as well but I don't believe in harming living things - even relics from a bygone age. I'm sure he must be a talented actor - or something.

Perhaps I shouldn't have mentioned Billy in case this upsets Scottish Dooyoo'ers, some are so proud of him. But I'm going to upset them anyway because I'm going to ...

... Zap all Scottish MPs.

I don't wish them any harm physically but I'm afraid they can't have it all ways. Scotland have their own Parliament, or whatever they call it, and us English can't vote there. So I'm afraid, sorry Messrs Kennedy, Brown et al, I don't want you voting on anything that effects me as an English person - that's fair isn't it? It's also one reason why the Liberals won't get my vote as long as they have Chat Show Charlie as their leader.

This is the point where I smile sweetly and say how much I love Scotland, the people, bagpipes, kilts, dirks, whisky, Glasgow, Edinburgh, the Highlands and the Lowlands and ... hope this is sounding sincere! I know that any of you Scots won't really be offended because you are known for your friendly humour. And, of course, it's a nice feeling that you'll be cheering and supporting England 100% at the World Cup - thanks!

"Not you back again, what now!"

"I was wondering if you knew the main difference between sex and conversation?"

"Erm, well, no."

"Well in that case let's go back to my place and talk."

Yuk, I know it's hard, but lets pretend that I did go back to his place. Can you imagine the scene?

&q
uot;Would you like some wine?"

"Please. Red."

"I've got some really good stuff, you know, with a proper screw top and everything."

Oh dear, it's that time again ...

... Zap wine bottles with screw tops.

I mean it's just not right, is it? Wine is about corks and all the performance of removing them. It's just too easy to unscrew and pour. 'Proper' wine has to have a cork - ask an expert - I only drink the stuff! Oh and while I'm at it ...

... Zap all 'experts'.

You know, those holders of good taste who tell us how to eat our food, drink our wine and try to dictate what is quality art and literature and a myriad of other things. Let's all think and decide for ourselves instead.

Oh my God, just look at him now - Mr.Sophistication! He's slipped into something more comfortable: woolly dressing-gown, socks and slippers. He certainly knows the look and what to say to turn a girl on - he must have been talking to an expert.

Out comes the line he's been chuckling to himself about for ages, "If you have lost your virginity, can I have the box it came in?"

With this he cheekily loosens his dressing-gown cord, and lets it slip slightly apart, to reveal a glimpse of his off white underwear and one matching thigh tapering off gradually, in a downward direction, into a white sock and brown slipper.

Emergency, emergency ...

... Zap Y fronts.

Goddam it, who on earth designed these? Probably had something to do with some long lost Family Planning scheme from days gone by. A cunning plan. No wonder 'housewives' used to work out their frustrations by dusting, cleaning, cooking and sitting on washing machines. Anything must have been better than Y front man. Especially if he had the full set, with a matching vest tucked tantalisingly into his pants. What a lumpy bumpy
mess it all must have looked. Where did what begin and end? How could you tell and, lets face it - well not literally - you wouldn't want to rummage round in such monstrosities to find out, would you? Who knows what you might come across, yesterdays lunch, a hanky, a piece of string. Oh yes and ...

... Zap men who leave their socks on!

Think that's self explanatory - slip off your socks please before your trousers.

Oh, I'd almost forgotten him.

"That's a lovely dress", he grins and winks, "but I reckon it would look better on the floor."

He lifts one hand, points a finger and beckons me towards him. Foolishly I slowly walk in his direction and, as he speaks, his stale breath engulfs me long before his words make any sense to my brain.

As I get close he says, "If I can make you come with just one finger, imagine what I could do with the rest of my body."

Taxi! Taxi! Taxi!

I hear his calls gradually fading into the distance as I escape and walk quickly up the road ...

"Don't go ... we could have a Gin and Platonic, or even a Scotch and Sofa if your prefer ... what about if I followed you home, would you keep me? ... no, please don't go ... I had a dream about you last night and you owe me some clean sheets ... and your hair matches my pillows ... and, and, anyway everyone knows your legs are like soft butter, they ...

Room 101, eh - zappppp. Ahhhhh that's better - it's good to get things off your chest and have a bit of a scratch.

;-> Kay

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