Pole-bending Down Under.

Typical – one eBay bidder hasn’t paid up. I bet he’s gone on holiday and doesn’t even know he’s won the auction. He left an auto-bid a few days before it ended. Still, it’s a tiny item (the class 27 conversion kit) and it’s only a few quid so it won’t damage my holiday drinking experience at all. I’ll take it with me on my visit to Stalag Wales and if he gets in touch I can just write the address on it and post it. It will be fun to confuse the postman with something posted in Wales but with a return address in Scotland.

Tomorrow I head to Ayr to experience different rain, then fly from Glasgow airport which is patrolled by burly men with guns, to Cardiff airport which is patrolled by very fat men with sets of darts in their shirt pockets. They don’t need guns and they don’t need stab vests. You would need a javelin to reach anything vital. Oh, and there’ll be different rain in Wales too, which will make a nice change.

So with packing (always take a spare set of underwear if you’re away for a week, just in case), lockdown, setting the burglar-welcoming trip wires and crossbows, arranging for someone dangerously-trained to look after the house and water the greenhouse plants (all tobacco plants are now outside so all that’s left in there this year are tomatoes), I have now to do that sleep thing. At night. Weird, eh? I will have occasional internet access while I’m away but plan to spend most of the time drinking.

Anyway, I thought I’d start the holiday period with a bit of a laugh.

Apparently, New Zealand prostitutes are using signposts to give pole-dancing demonstrations. This has resulted in many bent and even broken poles, which I would take as a warning that, should you decide to avail yourself of the service, do not let her get on top.

The commenters have already pointed out the obvious solution. Stronger poles. However, the photos do give some insight into why those poles are bending. It must be like being climbed by a truck.

Pole-dancing, done by an expert, is not merely an erotic wobbling of the body. Really, it should be done by bodies that don’t wobble except in specific areas. It is an astounding gymnastic display. I once saw the Chinese State Circus in Aberdeen, and they had four poles set up. One guy (yes, guy) ran at them, caught a pole in passing and rotated, hand over hand, up that pole – at arm’s length! I saw it myself and I still don’t believe it’s possible. He wasn’t erotic, none of them were, not even the women (well, perhaps the female contortionist in a twisted sort of way) and it would have been difficult for them to try because most of them were in Mao’s blue overalls at the time. The contortionist was, as I recall, the only one not dressed in something five sizes too large.

Pole-bending is not erotic either. In fact, if a woman winked at me while bending a street sign in half, I would be very, very scared. It would not be a successful advertising campaign for what she’s selling which, I suppose, is why they can’t afford to pay the fines. They are frightening their customers away.

The pictures are hilarious, the best is the one with the Prozziesaurus rex about to bend a pole in front of signs saying ‘In’ and ‘Out’. The instruction manual, perhaps? I bet the next awning along says ‘Repeat’.

I am strangely reminded of a Les Dawson joke. “I can’t get over my wife. I have to get out of bed and go around”. Also of a Don Martin cartoon that had a man painting ‘My wife is an immense fat freak’ on what appears to be a wall, but is in fact his wife’s backside.

Right, must try to sleep. Blogging will be sporadic for a while and when it happens, it might not always make much sense.

But then, if you’ve been reading here for more than a day, you’re used to that.