Oh dear! Swinging Heaven hang your collective heads in shame!
After finishing my poached egg on Toast with wilted sorrel I felt I had to put finger to keypad....
Last night at the Bolton Munch I witnessed sights, which would have even made Bacchus choke on his pint of Blue Nun!
The night began innocently enough as people sat and chatted in a civilised urbane manner, however once the DJ had the played the overtly sexual song: Ohh-Wakka-Doo-Wakka-Day by Gilbert O’sullivan things took a turn for the worst.
I sat open mouthed as I saw one shameless floozy lustfully grab the buttocks of a male member as he bent over to pick up his box of Swan Vesta, which she had purposely knocked off the table. Admittedly, they could have been man and wife but it was the lustful look in her eye, which made it rather indecent.
Things on the dance floor were no better. People were jiving, jitterbugging and one woman was even doing the funky chicken! (Not literally of course, as this would have been too much even for this night of Bacchanalia!)
I saw people kissing more than one person at a time, and some of them were even using ! French kissing in a public place! Sacrebleu!!
One woman, who shall remain nameless, even had the audacity to wink in my general direction. Well, either that or she was sat too close to Mr Swan Vesta man and had a bit of smoke in her even so!
I simply could not believe the antics of a certain ‘regal’ sounding female member of SH. The said strumpet consciously ripped her basque in order to expose even more of her ample busom, and from where I was sat, it certainly was ample! If that wasn’t shocking enough, she then proceeded to change into what can only be descibed as a workman’s tattered overcoat which simply left nothing to the imagination. As I snook under the table to inspect
whether the “lady” was wearing undergarments, I was appaled to discover that she wasn’t!! I then spent several minutes making notes on this was quite diffucult due to the cramped conditions beneath the table, but I felt it my duty to stay and report such behaviour.
As a moral celebate non-swinging swinger I am outraged. The poached egg tasted shite too!
I propose all future Munches should be non-alcohol events and with a strict dress code of his and her boiler suits.
Regards,
Kinky Lizard