I thought I would begin, dear readers, with a review of this month's edition of
Diva Magazine. This is the 'sex edition', which apparently always sells ten percent more copies than usual, which shows that I am not the only lady looking for a little spice (Gert only likes plain food, alas).
On the
cover, there are three women, two white and one black. There is no sign of a wheelchair user and I do wonder if they are fully committed to equality. And I do wonder if one of them is Welsh - it's important to be fully inclusive. Eeeee!
There are plenty of adverts for Lesbian dating. Gert would be quite cross if I were to investigate any of these beyond simply reading them, dear readers, but they did look jolly nice. If I should ever misplace Gert, I know there is still hope for me.
On pages eighteeen and nineteen, I stumbled across a most disconcerting sight - reviews of a collection of sex toys that I did not conduct! What shocked me most, however, was the cost of an orgasm these days - the cheapest was £39.99 and looked like a
hyperactive boiled egg. In my day, we used to make do with an old broom handle and a George Fornby record to get us in the mood.(
'When I'm Cleaning Windows' was always my favourite). One or two of the toys did look
jolly good fun though. When I have made sure Mr Preacher-Man will be kept in gruel and puddle water this month, I may make a little investment...
After skipping past the rather queer (excuse the pun) ladies on page twenty, I came across, on page twenty-two, an article about the lack of Lesbian porn on the market. What they forget is, if they put it in our market, the young scaliwags I spend my life reigning in would have a field day and I would get to dish out more punishments, so I support Lesbian porn.
Three very odd looking gentlemen appeared on pages thirty-four to thirty-nine. They all want to run the country, but none of them are Lancastrians as far as I could tell, which is a shame. At least they are not from Yorkshire! One of them was not even wearing a tie - standards today have fallen. Mr Preacher-Man went quite purple when he saw this, and Gert was minded to write a strongly-worded letter, which was a nice idea until she remembered that she cannot write.
In the middle, I came across some naked ladies, which I greatly enjoyed, though of course do not approve of as a fine, upstanding member of the Free Independent Lancastrian Church of the Holy Spike. I shall have to stick forks in my legs later as a punishment.One of them had books in the background. I trust she will return them to the library without any pages stuck together - I hear librarians don't like that sort of thing, at least officially, anyway.
Finally, dear readers, I wish to draw your attention to a most disturbing article occupying pages fifty-eight and fifty-nine, called 'Forbidden Pleasures' and detailing stories of women who fantasise about rape and drawing blood and so on. I heartily disapprove. While it is true that Gert likes to be submissive - not that she has a choice in the matter - and I am quite proficient with a wooden spoon and apron, there are limits and behaviour that would be traumatic in real life is not the stuff of edifying thoughts. Indeed, Mr Calvin would be quite ticked off.
So, there we go. Another month, another Diva. Now, where did I put the egg whisk? Oh, Gert....
