Cybersex with underage avatar police case

New rape statistics for London has been published. Not surprising Lambeth is on top of the list, followed by Southwark. The variations between neighbouring boroughs are in some cases as much as 50% and the total number for last year 2,304 or 6.3 for every single day.
This is all of little interest to me, but the comments from a Jenny Jones at the Metropolitan Police Authority are very interesting: Possible explanations for the variations are said to be higher numbers of single women living in central London and “higher prevalence of bars where attackers might target victims.”
Then she states:

“Unfortunately I think it is about the way women are treated when they report a rape, detection rates, and whether the victims are deterred from coming forward.”

And that is the politically correct line, of course! Some feminist angle!

The problem is that Lambeth tops the list of every kind of violent crime, so I guess that the above comment translated into murder cases should read: “Unfortunately I think it is about the way the victims are treated when they report a murder, detection rates, and whether the victims are deterred from coming forward…”

The interesting twist is that a high number of reported rapes in an area suddenly are made to look like something the police should be commended for…

But the problem is, if not racial, cultural: Those nasty, ever-stoned Rastafarian freaks dominating the street scene in Brixton (Lambeth) are prone to violence, and they react violently to the slightest provocation. They are a menace and constant threat to bye-passers, and when I go out here at night occasionally and they harass me for bus money it is very unpleasant indeed!

And then I read about the German police in Halle who have initiated a crime investigation regarding to a case of virtual child sex on Second Life!!!

I find it amazing! What was the age and sex of the person behind the avatar? (I smell a deliberately calculated provocation here!)

But of course it provides career opportunities for real paedophiles, who I expect will join the police force en masse and surf the web for kiddy porn and chase virtual sex offenders – and get paid for it!

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Prince Harry: Put me on Iraq front line

My namesake Prince Harry hit the front page again last night by threatening to quit the army unless he’s sent to “the front line in Iraq”.

It may well be the best solution to all involved, and sparing the Army the trouble of deploying an extra brigade to protect the prince. Photo opps could be arranged in some other sand pit, and he could be awarded some appropriate medal for bravery.

The poor sod has apparently not been informed that the UK is not officially at war with Iraq and that there is no fucking frontline!

The UK alongside the US are the liberators of Iraq and they are policing the country on request by the Iraqi government – or?

The prince is quoted as having said: “There’s no way I’m going to put myself through Sandhurst and then sit on my sorry arse back home while my boys are out fighting for their country.”

The worldview apparent in the statement above is slightly problematic, I’d say. Why can’t somebody tell him that Iraq is no part of the UK and – in spite of the rich oil fields – nowhere near the North Sea!

But of course the young prince wants to see real fighting and prove his manhood and kill a few of them nasty Muslim fuckers. And it would of course be grudging towards him, not wishing him happy hunting!

Meanwhile the tabloids busy themselves by setting up “dream dates” for his brother William. That woman Paris Hilton (whose name indicates she’d be capable of accommodating numerous men at a time) has been suggested probably being sufficiently inbred, and has been quoted as saying that she likes the sound of “Princess Paris”…

Now it appears that her parents weren’t that bright either, giving her a man’s name in the first place, but just as with young Harry’s problem with political geography – couldn’t someone just tell her???

Prince Paris (the name means “defender” in Greek) was a son of the last King of Troia (“Troy”) and he caused the war with Sparta by seducing Helene, the queen of king Menelaus, and refusing to return her. Consequently he caused the downfall of Troia and the death of his father.

Doesn’t anyone read the classics anymore?
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Advice to Kate Middleton and Prince William

Since we were being serious yesterday and talked about the breaking up of relationships and the difficulties of picking the right mother-in-law, just let me just give you a few good quotations today, because I’m really too busy to write something original:

“Successore novo vincitur omnis amor,” Ovidius writes in Remedia amoris. And he is right, of course – at least to some degree. What he actually is writing about is how to avoid devastation when a lover leaves you; the pain caused by love lost, and how to prevent love from growing into a dependence that will hurt you when ties are severed.
He writes:

I advice you to have two mistresses at once
(a tough man is he who can take on more);
when the attention, parted in twain, shifts from this one to that,
one passion saps the other’s force.
Great rivers are diminished by much channelling,
and a fierce flame dies when the fuel is divided.

And here I have to disagree! Love is not quantifiable, and if you think that your love can be divided into lesser streams like a river, you are simply misled by a bad metaphor: love is always whole – arithmetic doesn’t apply! – and if ‘divided’ into two or three, each part will remain a whole.

Love is either whole – or it isn’t! But you can certainly have more than one!

But Ovidius is right when he says that you suffer less when losing a lover if you have another love simultaneously – not because you’ve loved less, or even that the loss of love hurts less, but because the remaining love serves as distraction and solace. It’s not really that someone leaves you that make you suffer; it’s rather that the memories stay and remind you of your loss.

‘What’s gone and what’s past help
Should be past grief.’

– William Shakespeare, The Winter’s Tale
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Since it’s a beautiful day, and I’m in such a good mode, I’ll provide a translation for the Latin quotations above – and save you a trip to the library!

“Quid moror exemplis, quorum me turba fatigat?
Successore novo vincitur omnis amor.”

Why do I waste time on cases whose number wearies me?
all love is vanquished by a succeeding love.

“I advice you to have two mistresses at once…”

Hortor et, ut partier binas habeatis amicas
(Fortior est, plures siquis habere potest):
Secta bipertito cum mens discurrit utroque,
Alterius vires subtrahit alter amor.
Grandia per multos tenuantur flumina rivos,
Saevaque diducto stipite flamma perit.
– Ovidius, Remedia amoris

Footnote:
I just can’t make myself write ’Ovid’, ’Plato’, ‘Aristotle’, ‘Homer’, ‘Virgil’, ‘Plutarch’, etc. I don’t know how the long established mutilation of these classical names in English happened. They are random and inconsistent – and unacceptable!

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The Prince William and Kate story continues.

This morning BBC added a new twist to the Prince William and Kate story: It wasn’t really Kate he split up with, but rather her mother! It makes sense! To choose a mother-in-law is indeed much trickier than to choose a wife, and to keep a cool head when you run into a hot girl isn’t easy! (I’m talking out of experience here!)
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Another canard revealed: MPs are ‘taking advantage’ of free upgrades on international flights ‘worth thousands of pounds a time…’ according to last night’s London Lite.

The indeed very lite, free paper is trying hard to get readers, and any scandal would do fine – but this latest attempt is pathetic! Who wouldn’t accept to be upgraded by an airline? And suggesting that it is some kind of corruption is simply preposterous!

As a frequent flyer I have about 50% chances to get upgraded when I go somewhere, if I check in with one of my frequent flier cards. (This is not a Prince Harry thing!) I always buy economy class tickets, but when it’s time for boarding and I arrive at the gate, I get an upgrade if there are places available. It’s the airline’s way to keep customers happy and make them bond with the airline.

Not that I would choose airline on the basis of my chances to be upgraded. If I pay my own fare, price would be decisive – and they certainly vary more than a little! If the difference in price isn’t too big, I’d go for one of my favourites – and after doing that for a few years they are of course the airlines where I most likely would be upgraded too!

My favourites? Well, there’s no surprise here! Over the years I’ve mostly travelled with Singapore Airlines and Thai Airways, and in recent years also with Emirates and Sri Lankan (the latter which is majority owned by Emirates since a few years, and surprisingly good!)
I’ve flown Korean Airlines between Jakarta and Seoul a few times, and been very happy also in economy class. The food was some of the best I’ve got on any airline, any class! And Cathay Pacific is of course like an old sweetheart!

The quality of services is not really related to ticket price, and an airline that is expensive on one route may very well be the cheapest one on another.

When I check my records I notice that I have travelled with 37 airlines to 33 countries, and that I’ve made 148 international flights since January 2000.

I’ve been busy!

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Prince William is not my brother!

I never thought that I’d have to make this announcement, but the truth is that as far as I know I’m not related to Prince William.

This thing about being Prince Harry is an ancient story that goes back more than fifty years. It was actually my grandmother who started it. She believed that she was of royal descent, since her vagabond father had claimed to be an ‘illegitimate’ son of one of those 19th century kings who enjoyed crisscrossing the country, opening railway stations, and knocking up young local maidens… When I was a child I liked when grandma called me prince, but later we used to make fun of her collection of royal portraits, which she regarded as family portraits…

Now, my grandmother’s claim could very well be true, but there’s no way to substantiate her claim – other than convincing some member of the royal family to give a DNA sample…

The attempted damage control by blaming the media attention for the Prince William and Kate break-up backfired, and their friends are queuing up to sell their versions to the tabloids, saying among other things that Kate after four years had demanded some commitment that he wasn’t ready for…

Well, if he takes after his father he’ll not be ready for a commitment for another 25-30 years or so!

I, on the other hand, got married at his age! But that was of course 35 years ago, and the blushing bride was a Bangkok bar girl… but soon enough she realized I wasn’t really a prince…

That Kate chick looks OK in the papers (and to be honest I’m currently available!) but I have to agree with Prince William on the other hand: she’s reached the age when it’s time to ask tough questions… Can she cook?
People keep asking me to post my photo here on this website, but I’d rather not! I don’t want to end up in the situation where I have a horde of paparazzi chasing after my tail whenever I go out to find myself a decent piece of ass!
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Better de Sade than C.S. Lewis!

Now, that unshaved fella Birger Schlaug couldn’t even handle a very serious and most reasonable quotation from the good old Marquis on the death penalty, but had it deleted!

Those fucking Swedes!

“To kill a man in a paroxysm of passion is understandable, but to have him killed by someone else after calm and serious meditation and on the pretext of duty honourably discharged is incomprehensible.” – Marquis de Sade on the death penalty.

I just asked: What is there to add?

I thought that it would be interesting to the readers to see how the “nice guy” whose books we buy for our kids turns out nasty, and the notorious, “nasty” guy quite reasonable and even politically correct!

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Sex and jealousy…

Now, since we have touched on sexual explorations of more liberal times gone by, I’d like to share one of my most exceptional experiences… I had met that beautiful teenage girl in the library cafeteria and we had been lovers for a while, when she said: You know, I’m a little both ways… I have no problem with that, I told her, thinking of having a second girl in the bed once more.
But it wasn’t as simple as that, I understood. My girlfriend’s girlfriend was jealous and didn’t approve of her having affairs with men.
One day when we were walking down the street she spotted her twin sister across the street and waved at her. Why don’t we cross over and say hallo to her? I asked, and got a slightly evasive answer. She smiled shyly, and said it wasn’t a good idea, because her sister was so jealous. And suddenly it dawned on me: her girlfriend-lover – my rival! – was her twin sister!
It is the only time I’m aware of that I’ve had a girl as a rival – and I lost!
We remained friends and met occasionally for as long as I remained in that city, and I remember our affair as one of the most passionate from my teenage years!

Shared sex is better sex…

Since we were talking about threesomes I should add the story of another more recent one – 35 years later:

Tuesday April 15, 2003:
I went back to my usual place last night, and met a new, small, and really pretty girl. Her name is Mi – or at least that’s what she’s called. I instantly knew that she’d be the perfect Girl No 100 for me. When I’d had a few beers at the bar and felt it was time to go home, I asked her if she’d come along – and she was quite happy with that!

Thursday April 24, 2003:
After a week in Shanghai it’s good to be back! In the late evening, when in a taxi heading for my usual hangout, I spotted Mi on the sidewalk. I waved at her, but she didn’t see me in the dark. Ten minutes later she walked in, and was busy organizing her night as always. She asked me how Shanghai was, and I told her it was pretty cold and boring, and that I had come to pick her up. But tonight she had another friend with her, and she was determined to bring her along. Eventually I agreed. The funny part is that these two girls obviously are very close – today they even wore identical jeans with a pattern of triangular patches, and those outrageous, pink jackets with fake fur piping…
We had a pleasant night eating, drinking, and watching TV. Then we had sex; really great sex. P started sucking my cock, and Mi and I were kissing. It was a knockout really, and the ultimate arousal! Kissing gives me a hard-on even quicker than cocksucking, but the combination is really the ultimate one! Then she sat down on my face once more, and I sucked her bald pussy. We switched after a while and P sat on my face, and Mi suggested we fuck. So she rode me while I sucked P’s pussy. It was fantastic! And again Mi giggled and had to hold her hand over her crack when running off to the bathroom. I had filled her sweet little pussy to the brim once more. (She actually has a few hairs, she told me, but they are so soft and thin, so you can’t feel the stubble when they are shaved off. P, who they say is a year younger, also has a few soft hairs, but she doesn’t shave them off.)
Then, when they went to sleep I enjoyed my Laphroaig from the Shanghai tax-free shop and spent every single frame in my disposable camera to take photos of the naked girls sleeping on my bed. They actually slept in each other’s arms, and it was just too sweet!

Friday April 25, 2003:
Mi returned last night – with P and two other girlfriends – obviously intending to arrange a royal orgy! I laughed and asked her if she really believed I was man enough to handle four girls at a time. We had a drink, and then I sent the other three girls on their way. Mi was unhappy with that and kept pleading for P, saying that she would be cross with her, since she’d told her in the morning that she could come back and stay with us. P doesn’t speak much English at all, and being a recent immigrant she’s depending on Mi to look after her, I understand, and after some pleading I gave in and accepted that she went out and brought her back.
After some time the girls returned, with a lot of nice food (pig’s tongue, cockles, etc.) and a few beers for me, and four bottles of water for them.
Then they stripped, and we had a pleasant supper, naked on the bed once more. The girls are quite comfortable in the nude, and they exposed their pretty little pussies generously. We watched some TV, and then we had sex. Really great sex! Mi was on top of me and put her little pink nipple in my mouth to suck with a gesture so motherly, it made me smile. Then, when Mi was riding me once more, I asked P to bend over and show her well-shaped little butt to me. It was an absolutely beautiful sight – it was all just perfect! So we switched and I fucked her in the doggy position, and came screaming!

FORNICATO ERGO SUM.

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The story that was no story…

The 15 ‘hostages’ who were not really taken hostage have been released and returned to Britain to the fury of the gutter press, who desperately wanted a story with some bloody ending.

Now leading tabloid The Sun eventually bought the story that wasn’t even a story for a six figure sum, and with the blessing of the Ministry of Defence they are attempting to make the Brits look a little less stupid – with little success!

Choosing to focus on Leading Cunt Faye Turney wasn’t that smart after all: an obese chain-smoking woman conforming to the stereotype of British women as not excessively brainy, negligent parents, etc, etc…
“I feared I’d never see my daughter again!”
Oh my!
What did she expect?
What the fuck was the mother of a three year old daughter doing in the Gulf anyway?

And the paper explains “her ordeal” with two photos :

“Oppression in Iran: Faye was forced to wear a headscarf” (with printed floral pattern) in Tehran.
And “Freedom in Britain”: A photo without headscarf!

At my corner store here in London they sell perfumed toilet paper of the brand “Freedom”. It comes in four different pastel colours plus white. I chose white, and back at home I ponder the philosophical implications of the word “Freedom” in this context.

Threesomes for everyone!

I learned more than one thing from that young woman I told you about yesterday! I was – honestly! – not very experienced at 18, but what I lacked in experience, she made up for abundantly!
One day when we were alone once again, she told me she’d have a visitor from her hometown over the weekend. It was some school-time girlfriend, I understood, and as we sat there in the kitchen drinking coffee, she hinted that there might be more to it than I assumed.
Of course they had been lovers! I had no problem with that – it didn’t bother me one bit!
The young woman arrived, and proved to be both charming and pretty, and we spent an enjoyable evening drinking wine and talking about everything. Then the time came when it was time to go to bed, and the question ‘who’s goin’ to sleep where?’ inevitably came up. Well, there were three bedrooms in the flat, one of which was mine. The girls intended to share the big double bed in the master bedroom, I understood, and headed towards my room – followed by the young woman who recently had become my lover. Wait! she said, and took my hand – and asked her friend: He can sleep with us, can’t he? We are lovers already!
I saw a moment’s hesitation in the other girl’s eyes: It’s complicated with men, she said, and then she said, yes, OK, and smiled.
It turned out a pleasant weekend wit a lot of sex and laughter, and it took little effort to convert me to this new lifestyle of generous sharing of everything!
My first threesome would be followed with others over the years – always on initiative by a girl I’ve had some kind of relationship with. I’ve had threesomes with sisters a few times too – but never with mother and daughter. A friend of mine once told me he’d done that, but since I’m not a paedophile – even if I prefer teenage girls! – the mother-daughter threesome would certainly mean that the mother would be in her thirties and not sexually attractive to me…
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