SEX! There, I’ve got your attention. Sex! We’ve all done it. Or had it done to you, if you’re a woman. Some of you have had it done to you by me. Quite a few, in fact.
I’ve had bags of sex. Oodles of top-notch rumpo. But contraception? Not my thing. Putting a rubber johnny on feels like I’m putting a balaclava on my little fellow, like one of those ghastly IRA chappies.
I did try it once, mind. I’ve put a fair few past the goalkeeper in my time, and all these sprogs popping out of fannies everywhere were costing me the earth. Plus it’s damnably hard to remember their names. I love my children, all eight (?) of them, but frankly I’ve got better things to do.
Anyway, back in the day, mindful of the population explosion and just having written a playful editorial for the Spectator saying the people of Liverpool should be sterilised, I thought I’d give contraception a go.
To my dismay, sheathing the old beef bayonet was a bloody disaster. I spent an age trying to unwrap the little package – they make it so blasted difficult to get any purchase on it – then I couldn’t work out which way to roll it on, and by the time I’d fathomed the whole thing my todger was as limp and pathetic as Rishi Sunak.
I learned a valuable lesson that day – contraception gets in the way of your own pleasure, so don’t use it. It’s that sort of ‘real world’ sex education they should be teaching in schools.
Of course, they say the best form of contraception is to be physically and morally repulsive so women avoid you. Well, I’ve tried – God knows, I’ve tried – but it still seems there are fillies out there willing to be mounted by my slobbering, grunting, obnoxious self.
But all the vagina in the world wouldn’t make me try a prophylactic again. Which will mean more mini-Borises and Borisettes. Maybe 15 or 20. Sorry, but there’s nothing I can do about it.
There is one valuable piece of advice I’d like to share, which is – oh, I’ve reached my word count, so f**k that. What d’you want me to write about next week? Socks? Bananas? Socks and bananas? I can knock out 400 words of shit on that.
