Forbidden love

I’m feeling a bit sorry for the man from South Carolina who was arrested for making love to a horse. He was convicted of molesting the same animal last year, so it must have been true love rather than a wicked horse-shagging fetish. The woman who owns the mare caught them in the act and predictably put all the blame on the man, holding him up at gunpoint until the police arrived. She insists that her animal was raped, but I’ve not yet seen the man who can overpower a horse without getting his teeth kicked down his throat.

“Sugar was acting strange and getting infections,” said Barbara Kenly, the mare’s gun-toting owner.

Maybe she was, but that’s hardly evidence of sexual abuse. Mary Ann Faithful was behaving strangely and getting infections when she was touring with The Vibrators, but that didn’t mean she was being unlawfully interfered with.

I hope the judge gives him a suspended sentence on condition that he makes an honest mare of Miss Sugar. The weather in South Carolina must be pretty good at this time of year, so they ought to have an outdoor wedding. Let him escort the bridled bride through the grassy glades, to be joined in holy wedlock in the paddock. All the filly bridesmaids would be whinnying with tears in their eyes when the 22-carot wedding shoe was hammered into Sugar’s foot. “Memories are made of this,” as the late Dean Martin said.

Now I shouldn’t give you the impression that I approve of interspecies coupling. Of all the primates, we gorillas are the least interested in that sort of thing. The movie King Kong was a gigantic and offensive hoax. Chimpanzees are keener about it than us, but the biggest dabblers of all are our human cousins (as if you needed me to tell you that). Horses are the just the tip of the iceberg for homo sapiens. And don’t think that women aren’t as capable of it as men. There is an infamous scene in a movie by Jean-Luc Godard in which the farmer’s mistress removes her bare bottom from an enclosure full of suckling calves. One assumes it had been there long enough to get a good polish.

Such depravities would not appeal to the female gorillas in London Zoo, who have been pining for some hairy action since their resident silverback died last December. Rather than attempting to molest their keeper, they have persuaded the zoo management to
fly in a new male from France called Yeboah. He’s a good-looking boy, although I must say I’m worried he might not be up to the job. Female gorillas are rowdy at the best of times, but the ones that live in England are absolutely wild. They pick up their bad habits from watching the local women.

I’ve sent a message to Yeboah advising him to stay well clear of the females during hen nights and other occasions involving all-girl revelry. I hope he can handle what he’s got coming.

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