As a boy approaches adolescence, he will find his thoughts turning more and more to an aspect of girls he was hitherto quite unaware of. Before long, he will start to wonder why, when he thinks about girls, there is something funny going on in his trousers. When a boy reaches this time in his life, he can find it very confusing, but not know where to turn to for answers to the many questions forming in his young mind. He will intuitively know that something needs to be done, but will have no idea what.
Although he will have heard some of the older boys talking about a mysterious thing called wanking, he won’t understand what it is, other than it has something to do with thinking about girls. It won’t quite make sense to him, yet he will sense it is something he needs to know about. It is important that a boy at this stage of his development is set on the right path, and not left to his own devices and be at risk of making a wrong turn.
This is when we, as responsible parents, need to step in and steer our child onto the right course. Many of us find it difficult to discuss such matters with our children, and when we try, our attempts can all too often be clumsy and unhelpful. Very often parents will keep putting off this embarrassing duty, and then before they know it, it is too late, and their precious boy has wandered off into areas of who knows what.
Most parents are not experts, nor do they have the teaching skills to properly impart the crucial information their child needs. When this is the case, it might be time to look for outside help. If a parent decides to take this course, it is important that they choose their teaching material very carefully. There is a little publication that I cannot recommend highly enough; it is called The Curious Boys’ Handbook, by Richard Pumper. This little book will take your child, step by step, from complete beginner to accomplished technician. It is packed with diagrams, hints and tips, and easy to follow instructions, and comes with an excellent troubleshooting guide. There is also a section at the back for Catholics, with a chart for working out how much guilt to attach to each activity.
With this little book in his hands, or one hand, your offspring can be left at home alone thinking you don’t know what he’s up to, while you go along with the pretence confident in the knowledge that he knows what he’s doing.
I haven't had the problem with femisists that some folks seem to have had. Perhaps I've just been lucky. I have never had a mob of them beating on my door, seeking to emasculate me. I don't actually know that I've ever met a real feminist. I do know women who claim to believe in feminism, but all they usually want is equal rights and fair treatment for women. Views like that are hardly radical enough to be called feminism, so I dismiss these women as fake feminists.
I think the reason for my not being troubled by raving, man-hating viragos is perhaps that I've never bothered looking in all the possible nooks and crannies where one might find them. Which brings me to my advice on how to deal with them.
Just don't go looking for them.
If someone wants to come and live in your country, shouldn't you be flattered, and thank them for the compliment
, rather than treat them with hostility?
This is the first and greatest commandment:
"'You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind."
And this is the second greatest commandment:
"'You shall love your neighbor as yourself, and then lie to him like a bastard"
So sentimental that the thought of Mom's home baked apple pie brings a tear to their eye, yet able to put a man in a gas chamber without it causing the slightest conflict in their sensibility. This is the stuff that builds a truly great nation.
I don’t know if this is a case of cause and effect, or one of mere correlation or even coincidence, but I have noticed that the people here with the most fervent religious views, the ones who take it too far, are also among the most unpleasant, vindictive and malicious people here. Is their extreme religiosity a screen, behind which they can hide their obnoxious characters, I wonder.
Hide it from themselves as much as from others?
Everybody has a bedtime routine. Turn off all the lights, turn off all electrical appliances, check that all the doors and windows are closed and securely locked, and only then brush your teeth. But there's one more important thing you should always do before getting into bed: Check underneath to make sure you haven't got a communist lurking.
Do the Right thing.
I have heard tell of a railway tunnel that few men have set eyes upon since it was abandoned many years ago. Many have sought it, and many out of that many have never returned. And few of the few who have returned claim to have found it. And it is for this reason I am able to say that few men have set eyes on that tunnel. We cannot know, of course, how many of the many who sought to find the tunnel and never returned did find the tunnel, but it is thought to be very few. I mean to find that tunnel and be one of the few of the few who have found it and returned. Although those few won’t be quite so few once I become one of them.
The Tunnel is said to lie 15 miles or so northwest of here, as the crow flies, but I will be cycling. I ride next Friday morning, weather permitting. Friday is my earliest window of opportunity, as I do my weekly shopping on Thursday and will have to wait until then before I am able to provision my journey. I always take a packed lunch when I go out and I don’t want to have to make an extra trip to the shops, so it has to be after Thursday. That’s why Friday is my earliest Window of opportunity.
I anticipate many trials on my quest, and quite a few challenges, so I expect to be out all morning and possibly into the afternoon. That’s why it is important I take a packed lunch, and why I must wait until after Thursday before I go. I will be logging in here early on Friday morning, as I know many of my supporters, or a good few of them, will want to see me off.
My eye was very sore and swollen this morning when I woke up. It all started yesterday when I called at McDonalds for a bite to eat and a cup of coffee. I ordered a bacon and egg McMuffin, despite my gut feeling to have nothing to do with anything bearing such a stupid name. When my order was brought to the counter, it arrived along with someone else’s order, and the girl shouted out, “bacon and egg muffin”, immediately followed by, “sausage and egg muffin”. I picked up my order and left the restaurant, but on the way to my car I took the muffin out of the bag and looked inside, as I always do before I eat anything from McDonald’s. It was a sausage and egg muffin, and I quickly realised that I must have picked up the wrong bag. I looked around and saw that the woman whose order had arrived with mine was also walking to her car, so I ran towards her shouting, “excuse me”. She stopped and turned towards me, and when I got to where she was standing, I asked to see her muffin, and that was when I sustained the injury to my eye.
Well evolution, of course, let’s not be silly. But what about God?
What did God evolve from?
I want to jump onto the bandwagon; I want to start ranting about the Orwellian tyranny we find ourselves living under. I want to, but I can’t figure out how to make it sound justifiable. I want to be seen as someone who is fearless in standing up to the establishment. A champion of the people, willing to put myself in personal danger to fight for their rights and freedoms. Others have achieved it, and I long to be among their ranks, but I just can’t seem to find anything to warrant making a big fuss about.
I thought my chance had arrived when it became a requirement to wear a mask in public places. Off I went to my local supermarket, fully intending to perform a proper song and dance about being forced to cover my mouth with this vile piece of cloth. Little did I suspect that they had measures in place to undermine my action. When I got there, I was confronted with a polite request to please wear my mask, and there was not a single armed guard to be seen. How in God’s name are you supposed to start a riot over that?
It’s not that I couldn’t think of anything to rant and rave about; I surely could. They were telling me to wear a mask in the interest of public safety; well what about my safety? Does it not matter about my glasses steaming up and putting me at risk of bumping into something? That argument sounded solid at the time of its conception, but when it came to the point of shouting it out publicly, it had somehow lost most of its potency, and I was left unable to speak, lest I might be seen as a big sissy.
What other denial of right or freedom could I demonstrate defiance over, I wondered. What about the restrictions on my freedom of movement? Even when our “lock down” was at its most severe, I found I could come and go pretty much as I pleased, without interference from anybody. So, again, the state had pulled the rug out from under me.
When they were ready to role out the vaccine programme, I thought I’ve finally got them this time. I waited until my call up for vaccination came, thinking that’s when I would make my stand, but when it did come, it was only a bloody invitation to have it. I could just not bother going if I didn’t want to. I think this is when I began to realise I had been defeated. I had been beaten by the lack of state heavy handedness.
Season's greetings, everybody.
It's that time of year again when turmoil and malice reigns throughout the land. Have fun everyone, and don't forget to leave a bucket of water by your bedroom window for when those little brats come
a-trickin'-n'-a-treatin'.
Harbottle Blog (33)