Saturday, 26 January 2008

THE MUTLEYTHEDOG MEMORANDUM

Mutley: Sorry Selena... I did not mean to offend. I have a bottle of Benedictine and some Garibaldi biscuits and could pop round to apologise whenever you give the nod...



I first made Mutley’s acquaintance when he sent me an email containing a disgraceful suggestion.

Needless to say, I responded in kind.

Mutley is unemployed, decadent and idle. While you and I are trying to save the world, his big idea is to replace the Devil with the Deep Blue Sea. Making life rather pointless. The first thing an unemployed man must do is to recognise he has no job. But whereas Mutley the cool, wry, irrepressible blogger keeps himself pre-occupied with the most reflective and irascible log, it is his sense of fellowship with his readers which makes him such a formidable competitor. His repartees at the comment section are always as entertaining as any discourse he writes.

His doggedness is absolutely disarming. He’s illiterate, but legendary!


Nor has he any comprehension of his own deficiencies as a web-site host. His blog has two time zones. GMT and MMT. Which always tends to remind me: had I opted for Virgin Airlines, rather than Mutleythedogsdayout, I might have been half way across the Atlantic by the time he came round to see me.


But, there we were, at the SpearmintRhino, with me on my third Appleton Special, while Mutley rubbed himself against my legs in a totally incontinent way. He has short hair, a dog-collar around his neck and is continually sniffing your crotch. His eyes never seem to leave your hem-line. I might as well have been wearing nothing but a G-String. In fact, everyone I meet appears to take an interest in my virginity. I had to sit on my hands to stop myself pulling his ears. Mutley then brought out his present: a gift-wrapped bottle of Benedictine and a top-shelf magazine entitled Mongrel Bitches.


I'm a pedigree bitch," I said.


"I can see that, and I feel for you,"Mutley replied. “You're trying to get through life by spending half of it prostrate.”


La vie horizontale,” I conceded. “But, of course, I spend the other half trying out new pole-dance routines. That's something I excel in.

“Don't get the wrong impression.” He said, I love your chest. “Fact is,” he then added, “I’ve never rejected an advance from a 36DD.”


Which particular biological qualification actually gives me the ability to hold therapeutic appointments in male sexual dysfunction and on how to stimulate the nerves involved in libidinous arousal - not to mention my research into activating the brain's melancoptin receptors. I can't think of anything else that draws you so warm-heartedly to the company of men which doesn't involve cunnilingus. And even though I, myself, make very little use of the freer sexual life that I advocate for others, the patriotic education of the male of the species is in my hands. I will accomplish it.... I have, in fact, endeavoured to present a paper on the subject, and tried to be objective in presenting summaries of all the current theories. This is what I do. Do I ever get tired, blasé, uppish? No, hand on heart, I'm always excited about libidinous matters, and still get that frisson with a every new patient.

Mutley, meanwhile, acknowledged that he firmly believed monogamy was not essential to a good relationship. “I believe in open associations,” he said. And then went on to claim that he preferred fellatio to coitus.” It combines,” he stressed, “and surpasses the joys of flying.”

Even though the farthest thing from my mind, when I make love to a man, is whom he may be married to, I realize now that in this, as in so many circumstances, men are only interested in one aspect of the problem. I shook my head. “I never accept offers,” I said. “I make demands. That’s two-hundred-fifty quid an hour. Plus expenses!”

It was then, with deliciously perfect timing and, crucially against my Pole, that Mutley lifted his hindmost leg and delivered this stinging response....

“You’ll never make a Golden Retriever out of me.” he said.

Mutleythedog looks pretty fierce, and the element of macho chic that he brings to my company is very imposing. He’s got no discipline either (- but a very high sperm-count)! So people get out of the way in the street when they see the two of us coming. Other than that, Mutley is totally soppy. He's never even growled at me once.


Except with other dogs - then he's an absolute bully!


I’m so glad I’m a bitch...!



Dreamy

4 comments:

Richard Madeley said...

Selena, your obsession with sperm count worries me. There's something about the way that you cherish our 'precious bodily fluids' that reminds me of the Sterling Hayden character in 'Dr. Strangelove'. This will not end well, you know... It never does.

Selena Dreamy said...

This will not end well, you know... It never does.


I find it hard to see my death as anything other than temporary...

mutleythedog said...

Well you have got me to a tee! I still have the biscuits by the way should you be interested. I have to not that I only ever stare discretely at 'bosoms' so you did not notice that I was ogling those as well. Actually I am tremendously flattered, you are right that I am well above worrying about my deficiencies! And I think literacy is overrated why half the world is literate in some language or another.. I am a bit embarrassed that you discussed my 'little problem' though, especially as you said it made no difference...

Richard Madeley said...

Don't worry, Selena. I'd happily work the midnight hours to inject your lifeless corpse with the bat essences given to me by my local Haitian witch doctor.