Monday, November 17, 2014

A Happy Ending!

The other day I read something with some very alarming statistics. I know statistics are made up but this was done by a university and they carried out a survey so it was academic and must be true. Admittedly the article was in a book called “Mastering Your Man from Head to Head’ so the academic research might not be incredibly high brow but it aroused my interest (the statistic not the book!) The book was something I found in a cupboard at a friends house. I thought the ‘head to head’ reference was something to do with intellectual compatibility until I saw the illustrations and subheadings such as ‘How to pet the prostrate’. I immediately retuned the book to the cupboard but not before the statistics, I had accidently read, had me concerned.

Apparently 98% of men claim to have ever masturbated. The book didn’t say why the other 2% hadn’t. Maybe they have no hands. Normally I research my blogs thoroughly but I am homeless at the moment due to the restoration and extension of the ugly house reaching a critical phase. I have had to move out and stay in a gorgeous apartment belonging to a very generous friend with some interesting literature. There is no Internet where I am staying but I would bet money that if I googled it, 2% of men would be handless and therefore unable to wank. I know that certain religious positions demand abstinence but I’m fairly certain that biology kicks in earlier than belief and they would have experimented as younger boys to see if it really did make you go blind. 

Anyway, that wasn’t the alarming statistic. There was more. 25% spanked the monkey one to three times a week. 17% bashed the bishop every other day. 24% cracked one off every day! None of this surprised me until I read that 51% of men admitted to having a Tommy Tank AT WORK!!!!

I arrived at my home which is now a full on building site to 11 men on site (actually there were more but I’m rubbish at maths so 11 makes it easier for me) I’ll be generous and take off one worker as the statistical 2% that doesn’t ever make their dolly sick. I think it must be one of the roofers. They are all under 12 years old. There’s time for him yet! That leaves 10 men. Statistically 5 have wanked at work. Statistically 3 of them do it every day. I’m alarmed that they might be saving money on WD40 or that it isn’t silicone they are squirting in the gaps.

I decided to do a survey of my own and ask them if any of them engaged in manual labour. Three denied it immediately. The carpenter shouted from the scaffolding (not a euphemism) that he did but it might have just been bravado. This is the same man who nail gunned his thumb, pulled out the nail and cut of the giblets that spilled out with a pair of plyers (not a euphemism) so I suppose playing pocket pool (a euphemism!) would be rather run of the mill. It was clear that if they were unloading the nail gun they wouldn’t admit it but there were some worrying indications. 43% of men surveyed in the book said it took 2 – 5 minutes to reach climax. All of the builders spend that amount of time alone in the blue portaloo every day. I’ve been forced to use it as we have no functioning loos in the house and sometimes I haven’t got time to drive to Sainsbury’s to use their loo. You wouldn’t spend 2-5 minutes in there by choice unless you were having an orgasmic poo or an orgasm. To be fair to them I don’t think even the most ardent and arduous of masturbators would finger their frenulum in there. They spend a long time on their mobile phones. Maybe they are sexting and are driven by desire to unleash themselves on the job! Twice I saw a burly builder do up his belt. I asked if he’d just pleasured himself but he misunderstood and said ‘I thought you’d never offer! Two sugars please’.  Maybe he heard correctly! I heard ‘Come here’ been shouted all day. I can’t be sure if this was a request, an instruction,  some friendly advice to co-wankers …sorry co-workers or the need for some pollyfilla. I’ve also heard requests for a hand on a job! Its usually met with ‘do it yourself!’ Proof positive!

The passage I read in the book quoted one man saying he liked to do it in the laundry room. He said ‘I used to raid dryers and masturbate on girls’ panties’. I think this alarmed me the most. I was worried that I may have inadvertently encouraged them to carry out extra curricular activities in the work place. I’ve been bringing my washing from the apartment and doing it at the house during the day. That morning I had parked the car around the corner from the house as the drive is full of cement and sticky substances.  I carried my washing basket to the house. I heard someone calling and turned round to see a woman waving some of my washing that I had dropped. Even as an atheist I was compelled to prey to god that it wasn’t my dirty knickers that I’d dropped. Luckily there is a god and it was just my son’s shitty little pants (he still doesn’t wipe his backside) and some dirty dishcloths. By the look on the woman’s face as she handed me my dirty laundry I can only assume she had just discovered there isn’t a god. She walked away smelling her fingers and grimacing. I think realistically, given the general contents of my laundry, I can rule out the builders rummaging through my smalls and taking them into the portaloo.

Perhaps I shouldn’t worry. After all a happy workforce is a productive work force and if 50% of them are having a happy ending at their work place (albeit my home) who am I to complain? Perhaps I should milk it!


  1. That made me laugh on this dull Monday morning. I shall now be looking at the builders in Different light and wondering does he or does'nt he. They may wonder why I look at them in a different way.

  2. or wear safety glasses and a hard safety helmet

  3. Was this blog just an excuse to describe 'throwing one off at the wrist' in as many ways as possible? :)
    The builders will love you now every time you pull onto the drive (not a euphemism) now you've probed them (not a euphemism) as to their daily deeds. :O
    They will especially love you if you do drop your smalls (not a euphemism) out of your laundry basket and then as they exit the portaloo and say "sorry love, you dropped these earlier (not a euphemism) and hand them back to you red faced and out of breath with a look of someone who just had just been attempting to rip the head off the one eyed trouser snake :D ( definately a euphemism)