Doctor Booby


The manager of the safari camp tells me the name of the latest celebrity he wants to invite to the Congo for a free holiday. 

“Dr Ted Eisenberg!” he announces grandly. “He’s the plastic surgeon who holds the world record for the number of breast operations. Just think of all the positive publicity he’d get for us. We’d be the destination of choice for women with boob-jobs the world over!” 

“You don’t say?” I reply with a hint of scepticism. “How ill-informed I must be never to have heard of the fellow.” 

After later digging out some information about the doctor, my doubts begin to grow. It seems he has achieved his world record by specialising solely in bosom work. Call me a suspicious ape, but I find something rather obsessive about a man who operates on 3460 pairs of breasts to the exclusion of anything else. When variety is so evidently not the spice of life, one has to suspect a fetish. 

“I love the immediate gratification and happy reaction I get,” explained Dr Eisenberg. 

I bet he does – his words could be the mantra of tit-fiends throughout the ages. 

His bosom fixation is far from being the queerest of his peccadilloes. Apparently, the doctor is an avid amateur knife-thrower, believing his professional activities give him a special aptitude for the pursuit. 

“My work spills into my hobby and my hobby spills into my work,” he boasted. 

As a former circus ape who has hobnobbed with a number of virtuoso knife-throwers, I would venture to opine that the doctor is talking codswallop. There is a world of difference between hurling a projectile with pinpoint accuracy and reshaping a woman’s melons. Anyone who thinks that the skills are interchangeable is suffering from a bizarre delusion – the product, no doubt, of unbridled egomania in the doctor’s case. A man with that kind of overconfidence might be tempted into dangerous stunts on safari. It certainly wouldn’t help our cause if a world-famous cosmetic surgeon got his balls chewed off by a baboon. 

In truth, I don’t approve of giving free holidays to celebrity doctors of any ilk. Eisenberg must have earned ten thousand bucks for every rack he remodelled, making him a multimillionaire. The wealthy are conceited enough without buttering them up with undeserved baksheesh. 

I shall advise the manager to invite an up-and-coming entertainer instead, who might amuse the guests with unusual party tricks. The performer I have in mind is Francisco Domingo Joaquin, the man with the world’s widest mouth. His talent was recognised at an early age by his parents, who made him sleep with a saucer in his mouth to develop his potential. He can now insert a hot dog sideways, without bending or squashing it, and chomp it down in one mouthful. This feat is far more impressive than gobbling it down lengthways like a sword-swallower, which anyone can do with a bit of practice. There’s nothing like good family entertainment to win hearts and minds of the travelling public. 


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