Monday, 23 June 2014


"So there I was, housesitting," said my token black friend, "and I thought to myself, I thought, they have to be somewhere."
"What have to be somewhere?" I said. He ignored me, although maybe he didn't hear me due to Lightsinthesky giving a laugh that sounded like the bastard offspring of a dog barking and a klaxon. We were, by this point, 17, and the sixth form common room was the ideal place to have a conversation. Very few people eavesdropping.

Although there was that time we played Fuck Her Gently by Tenacious D at maximum volume and our head of sixth walked past. And that other one when some of the scallywags enlisted me to watch for any teachers coming while they tried to hijack the vending machine. But usually.

"And I searched everywhere in the house for them. But I couldn't find them."
"What couldn't you find?" I interjected - again.
My token black friend rubbed the bruise he'd gotten on his left arm by manipulating it into the vending machine and took a swig of one of the three Pepsis he'd managed to obtain. "And then, in the bedroom, under a cabinet, there they were."
Lightsinthesky, Music Man, Einstein and I all stopped breathing, partially because he'd been so clandestine about invading someone else's bedroom, but also because we'd all just worked out what he was talking about.

"Some really filthy stuff," he grinned. "Really, really explicit, the nastiest stuff I'd ever seen. I took it downstairs and watched it all and..."
"Oh!" I said. I'd been expecting him to mention condoms. Although why a single person whose one sexual experience had been a disappointment may want to find someone else's stash of condoms escapes me somewhat. The house he was sitting, it turns out, was owned by a married couple, so he assumed they'd have porn somewhere.

I don't know either; just go with it.

Still, one good turn deserves another. I decided that I ought to reward him for his fascinating tale of bravery, derring-do and porn. Scouring my own house that night, I came up with something.

"Here you go," I said, pressing a VHS of Emmanuelle: Queen of the Galaxy into his hands. "Here's something, I think you'll find, which is just as filthy."

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