Mating calls

Scientists have come up with a far-fetched theory to explain why bonobos (our mutual primate cousins) make a hullabaloo while having sex. Observing that it is always the lower-ranking ape who screeches excitedly, they believe it does so to inform the rest of the troupe of the coupling. They theorise that being casually bonked by a higher-ranking bonobo actually elevates its status, rather than giving it a reputation as a social-climbing hoochie. As bonobos are promiscuous and bisexual, the ape that makes a racket could be of either gender or sexual orientation. 

Do lower-ranking bonobos really have the same mentality as groupies, who acquire kudos within their peer group when a pop star gets in their pants? I suspect there are other, more obvious explanations. Perhaps they are simply unable to contain their pleasure at being ravished by a social superior. Or being keen to please, they might make a lot of noise because the dominant bonobo likes it. 

I was occasionally disturbed by the cries of fornicating humans in my circus days. In one particularly aggravating incident, I heard a woman scream in a nearby trailer as if she were being murdered or molested. What does one do in such a situation? I took the view that it was better to be safe than sorry, and banged on the door like a policeman. 

“Open up in the name of the law!” I bellowed. “Stop what you are doing and surrender!” 

After a few seconds of silence, I heard a female voice giggling hysterically. This goaded me into making another emphatic statement. 

“I don’t know who you are, Miss, but the noises you were making were indistinguishable from those of the victim of a monstrous violation!” 

“I know,” she replied tartly. “He’s quite a monster and I’m feeling very violated!” 

Her saucy banter deserved a brusque response. 

“Is he indeed? Obviously, a rather tongue-tied monster to let a woman speak for him.” 

“Oh no, his tongue is very untied!” quipped the floozy, quite unabashed at having been caught in the act. 

I decided to direct my next statement at the monster himself. 

“Be that as it may, I would ask him to show more consideration for those who must endure the bedlam created by his actions. Perhaps he might consider the use of a gag in future escapades of this kind.” 

I marched off briskly before she could provoke me with another cheeky retort. 

Now, the big difference between humans and bonobos is that the apes use sex as a friendly greeting, like a handshake. If two hostile bonobo tribes agreed to make peace, their leaders would seal the deal by having a quick shag on the conference table. For humans, there is absolutely no reason for a couple having sex to advertise the fact to anyone. Humans who insist on making a din must be playing a deep psychological game involving boasting, exhibitionism and the marking of territory. The next time it happens, I’ll retaliate with some loud noises of my own. 

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Arrest of a faecal fiend

The Cornish Tourist Board are celebrating the capture of the cow manure pervert, apprehended in a field wearing nothing but a single sock as he wallowed in bovine excrement. It would be generous to interpret the sock as an ironic gesture, but a more likely explanation is that he forgot to pull it off in his haste to pull himself off. His conviction means that tourists pondering a visit to that scenic part of England will have one less reason to avoid it. I might even go there myself if I can find an interpreter to translate the incomprehensible dialect of the local yokels. 

Before he was sentenced, his defence lawyer tried to confuse the issue by claiming his client was “sad, socially inadequate and vulnerable”. That’s what they always say about dirty buggers who enjoy rolling in shit. Had it been a private fetish he might have deserved leniency, but the facts suggest that he wanted to be watched while he partied with the poo-poo. I agree with his lawyer that he didn’t deserve his two-year prison term, though. As there was clearly no hope of rehabilitation, he should have been banished to Greenland, where the only thing to wallow in is snow. The most effective deterrent to exhibitionism is a frost-bitten penis. 

I’ve never seen humans bathe in manure in the Congo. Even if some of them secretly want to, the locally available dung is too dry to use as a body lotion. In a climate where water is often scarce, animals can’t afford to go around dropping juicy turds for humans to rub themselves with. The nearest thing to the vice I’ve seen is the practice of anointing oneself with ostrich piss before making a voodoo fertility spell. Yet this ritual is only performed by fundamentalist witch doctors if you pay them handsomely. Most humans over here are too preoccupied with making a living to take up hobbies involving grossing each other out. 

I shouldn’t leave you with the impression that I’m a narrow-minded ape who will condemn any sort of unusual pastime as a perversion. In another recent case in England, a young Asian man was fined £50 for stealing a vibrator from an Ann Summers store. Only a bigot would describe this fellow as a sexual deviant, or make the unfair assumption that the item he stole was for personal use. It seems obvious to me that the lad was curious about vibrators but too embarrassed to pay for one at the counter. 

I can’t think of anything more natural and wholesome than being fascinated by vibrators. The amazing variety of colours, shapes and motions of these ingenious devices rivals that of the butterfly family. There is no excuse for stealing them, of course – I would have advised the young man to purchase one by mail order and start his own private collection. "Is that what you did yourself?" I hear you impertinently ask. Yes it was and what of it? I’m too big an ape to be shamed by your childish sniggers. 

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