I believe it was Tommy Steele who pleaded in song that if the rain had to rain, let it rain on any day, but Sunday, because that was when he was seeing his girl.
I am unable to make such a request, as I am currently seeing my girl(s) on every bloody day of the week. And the gods seem to be mocking me by making it piss down with rain on almost any occasion that I have planned to do anything outside.
I'd been thinking of maybe a little walk in the park this early evening, but whichever CNPS god is in charge of the weather was having none of that. I had to think of something indoors fast and my mind only seemed to be able to come up with "The History of Mathematics" section of the Science Museum. There had to be other covered activities in this vibrant and sprawling city, but none of them were springing to mind.
I didn't want to arrive at the date looking like a rat that had been drowned by Grub Smith to prevent it informing the authorities about what he had just subjected it to (I considered putting, "to prevent it squealing on him", but I thought better of it. And anyway, that's the bit of the whole thing that Grub Smith really likes.... I expect), so I jumped into a black cab. This should ensure I got to the appointed meeting place on time.
But I began to suspect that I had landed in a bogus black cab, or that it was my driver's first day, as the front windscreen was completely steamed up. The driver didn't seem to have any idea of how to cope with this, which in itself was suspicious - I know which buttons to press to clear it up in my own car - and tried to just put his face nearer the windscreen in order to peek through the steam and the belting rain outside. He had to drive so slowly that I realised that I'd probably be late, and that was assuming he didn't hit anything in the meantime. Then he had a brilliant idea. He used his hand to wipe some of the condensation away. This provided a temporary relief, but was far from satisfactory.
This was just a man who had bought (or stolen) a black cab and decided he'd try and make some money on the side. Or his cab was defective and he couldn't be bothered to go in to get it fixed.
After he nearly ran into the back of a parked car I had had enough and told him to let me out by a tube station. He didn't seem to understand and for a second I thought I was about to be kidnapped and sold into slavery or prostitution (but on the plus side, the latter would really help me sort out my dates), but finally I made him comprehend that I wanted to get out because his car was not roadworthy in these conditions.
Despite all this I arrived early and took my date to see the Elgin marbles, which led to the inevitable discussion of whether if you were a centaur it would be better to have the top half or the bottom half of you as a horse. You probably think the bottom half because you would have a cock the size of a horse's cock. But then, you'd also have a cock that was actually a horse's cock which would put most women off. Not Cahterine the Great if you believe the lies of history, but most women.
I don't know if I specifically search out unusually cocked statues or whether I just notice them more because of my cock obsession. I thought I was over that, but apparently not.
If I was a centaur, I'd like to be left half horse and right half human. Then if all else failed I could come up with an amusing comedy act where I faced the audience sideways on and looked like a man, but could then turn around and look like a horse. And then have a funny conversation. I might also be able to get quite a good act out of being half man and half horse anyway. You know and the difficulties and funny situations that would throw up. I think we've all been there.
But I fear that I would neither be satisfactory to women who liked men with man-cocks or women who liked men with horse-cocks. Only to those rare few who like a hybrid of both.
And really, how many of those are going to also only get turned on by mannequins with cock-noses sucking each others cock-noses?
I can't believe I am still writing about cocks. I thought the last two years would have got this out of my system. But clearly I am a hopeless cause.
