Fox Hunting for Men Without Horses

I do not own a horse, of that I can be sure. The surly nature of a modern male requires attention and treatment. Where am I going with this?

Fox Hunting without Horses
I Can Hunt Too!
Image (c) Druids Loom

Normal men have very few outlets for our ‘monkey build-up’ a term that is widely used amongst me and one friend (His eyebrows meet in the middle).

I do not own a horse, of that I can be sure. The surly nature of a modern male requires attention and treatment. Where am I going with this? Normal men have very few outlets for our ‘monkey build-up’ a term that is widely used amongst me and one friend (His eyebrows meet in the middle).

Suicide

Society wonders why we kill ourselves so freely (Suicide remains the leading cause of death for men between 20 and 34 in England and Wales). I do not wonder nor ponder this bleak fact but wish to highlight its cause with a mainline of neon into the mental billboard that should be displayed outside every supermarket in the country.

Sex with Pigs

The upper middle class gentleman in England likes to shoot things in the face and failing this, chase things whilst riding bigger things, with the assistance of smaller things (lots of them) to maim an even smaller thing into nineteen pieces. These men also play the bugle! Clarion? Cornet? and wear tight trousers, some of them make love to pigs faces…………..

Jim Davidson

The point is why can’t we have that? Not that…..exactly, I don’t have room for all of the paraphernalia and as I mentioned I do not own a horse. I too need to chase things or shoot things in the face or make love to pigs faces, as do my middle and working-class brethren. Many thanks to the council for providing us with outdoor gym equipment in my local park, I appreciate the increased number of betting shops and cheap bakeries and £2 a pint watering holes and discount bargain stores to purchase ketchup, clothing pegs and Jim Davidson DVDs.

Once I have pissed my winnings away and can’t fit any more pegs on to my pal’s face, I will of course partake in a flaky pastry of the sausage variety, condiment in hand, ready for a wonderful night of comedy (not before I complete a couple of crunches on the urine soaked apparatus in my local park.

Unfortunately my ‘monkey build-up’ has not subsided. My friend is only left feeling a sense of emptiness (the pegs really hurt once the beer wears off).

uh-oh I have just come in to contact with more monkey build-up victims. They seem to not like my friend and me (i think it’s the eyebrow/s) oh dear, they seem to be impaired with puff pastry flakes on their shirts and a blade in hand (to protect themselves in this dimly lit park I imagine). I f I don’t make it out alive……… I may well top myself anyway so hey-ho!!! If only I had a horse……….and a bugle!!!

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