Swiss brothel fire

News arrives of a brothel in Switzerland that was burned to the ground after its owner lit a barbecue for his guests. It’s a timely warning for anyone running a business in the hospitality industry. Trying too hard to please the customer by offering services outside your area of expertise often ends in disaster. We’ve never been tempted to make call girls a part of the safari experience in Africa. Humans with sex on the brain are prone to rash acts in the presence of wild animals. 

The Swiss brothel-owner should have known that a bawdyhouse doesn’t need gimmicks like a barbecue unless it’s in the wrong place. If I were starting up in the madam-ing business, I’d choose a seaside town with a warm climate. Sea air and naked flesh are what stimulate the human libido. Sex will never be a popular pastime in a country like Switzerland, famed for its mountain hikers and thermal underwear. The average Swiss couple copulate twice a year while holidaying in Italy or Greece – and not necessarily with each other. 

Before anyone accuses me of being anti-Swiss, let me say that I have every respect for the concept of a Swiss-themed brothel. Buxom milkmaids, cuckoo clocks and girls called Heidi are the dog’s bollocks for a certain type of punter. I’m sure a bordello like that would rake in the cash in Rio or Acapulco. The point is that you need to have a party atmosphere to encourage hanky-panky, and the Swiss are not party animals. Theirs is an alpine lifestyle, where cold showers and yodelling on the hillside take precedence over socialising with other humans. 

The main problem for any entrepreneur who needs to relocate abroad is understanding the local language. I’ve never understood why a genetically uniform species like homo sapiens speaks in such an absurd babble of different dialects. Why, for example, are there two types of Chinese? Isn’t it bad enough for the Peking Chinaman to be incomprehensible to the rest of the world without also being incomprehensible to his countryman in Shanghai? 

Some humans, of course, exploit this confusion by becoming multi-lingual. Like parrots, they thrive on hearing foreign words and repeating them frequently. An example of such is Rianhan Brooksbank-Jones, a pretty polyglot with a peculiar obsession about Korea. Her fascination with their oriental tongue is so great that she is having her own tongue surgically lengthened to speak it with greater fluency. 

I must say I never realised Koreans had long tongues. It’s an attribute that would serve them well in the jungle, where there is no shortage of tasty titbits that need to be winkled out of crannies. That’s not something I would expect a well-bred girl like Miss Brooksbank-Jones to do, of course. After a busy morning spent babbling in Korean, she could volunteer to lick envelopes and postage stamps for a local charity. And then, before supper, she could stick out her tongue at bossy old fishwives from her bedroom window. Those who possess an unusual gift should do what they can to give something back to the community.

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