Oh, Mr. Stewart. The things you get up to in your room
Poor Robert Stewart of Ayr, Scotland.
I mean to say there is ‘not getting lucky’ and ‘really not getting lucky!’ Mr. Stewart, you see, has been convicted of, sentenced to two years probation, and put on the UK’s Sex Offenders List because he was caught, wait for it, having sexual congress with a ‘bicycle.’ That’s right. Velocipede Carnality! You can’t make this stuff up, and if you are doubtful, you can read about it here.
Man, oh man. I pity Mr. Stewart’s shame for his hotel room transgression. I think the lads at the pub are going to have a field day at his expense.
“Ach, Bobby, was it a 10-speed, or just a homely old three-speed?”
“Nae, Angus. I think he fancies the sporty type. It was a mountain bike.”
I don’t mean to make light of the matter (oh, yes I do, because it is just too funny, despite Mr. Stewart’s misfortune. But, at a more serious level, isn’t this a case of the Nanny State having gone utterly bonkers?
What’s next? Suspicions that the Tour de France now doesn’t just involve steroid abuse? Will this lead to a scanning of newspaper classified ads in order to find hidden meanings in messages sent by bike perverts?
“For those seeking that soft and voluptuous pneumatic sensation of a ‘ride’ that’s in her prime, you can’t go wrong with this beautiful 1955 Schwinn.”
“Sleek and sensual, sporting high-end titanium frame. This baby is crème-de-la-crème. Truly the Victoria Beckham of bicycles for the discerning and mature rider.”
And finally, will cases of adult males searching for trikes bring suspicions of pedophilia to the fore?
What I want to know, from a scientific perspective, is how one goes about having sex with a bicycle? What does one actually do?
No, wait. Maybe I don’t want to know that at all.
Man, oh man. I pity Mr. Stewart’s shame for his hotel room transgression. I think the lads at the pub are going to have a field day at his expense.
“Ach, Bobby, was it a 10-speed, or just a homely old three-speed?”
“Nae, Angus. I think he fancies the sporty type. It was a mountain bike.”
I don’t mean to make light of the matter (oh, yes I do, because it is just too funny, despite Mr. Stewart’s misfortune. But, at a more serious level, isn’t this a case of the Nanny State having gone utterly bonkers?
What’s next? Suspicions that the Tour de France now doesn’t just involve steroid abuse? Will this lead to a scanning of newspaper classified ads in order to find hidden meanings in messages sent by bike perverts?
“For those seeking that soft and voluptuous pneumatic sensation of a ‘ride’ that’s in her prime, you can’t go wrong with this beautiful 1955 Schwinn.”
“Sleek and sensual, sporting high-end titanium frame. This baby is crème-de-la-crème. Truly the Victoria Beckham of bicycles for the discerning and mature rider.”
And finally, will cases of adult males searching for trikes bring suspicions of pedophilia to the fore?
What I want to know, from a scientific perspective, is how one goes about having sex with a bicycle? What does one actually do?
No, wait. Maybe I don’t want to know that at all.
posted by Ian Lidster at
9:04 AM
14 Comments:
agreed on all points... i REALLY don't wanna know the mechanics of it!
and, like you say: what the hell's with the state even charging him?
Eeeek! Image stuck in brain! Must .... give ... self ... pencil lobotomy!
At least that's news of some ilk, though. The local paper has taken to publishing pieces that could have been written any time during the last 75 years, such as "Teenagers drive fast and get in wrecks" and "Teenagers get drunk and have sex". It's like freeze-drived emergency news which you pull out for slow days.
One last thing. I'm afraid to read the article, but do you reckon he was singing "Do ya think I'm sexy" while taking care of business?
GOOD LOUD CHUCKLE....
Hey I didn't even know that having sexual congress between a man and his bike was illegal. Does it say if the bike was of legal age, or if it was consenting? I'm still trying to picture how he did it and how in the world they caught him.
Well, honestly, I can't even begin to imagine. Beyond that, I can't imagine why anyone would care what he does in the privacy of his own room... provided of course that he's not exploiting the poor bicycle. :)
That's a WTMI Ian - and I never even looked at the link - and I'll never look at a bike the same either. Heaven knows what those guys in mechanics shops are doing...
No, I'm REALLY sure I don't want to know!
But I don't understand why he's being charged with anything! Who cares what inanimate objects he's fooling with?
Maybe if the bike signed just signed a consent form....
Sigh.
Damn, the link isn't working for me.
But I can't help wondering how he got on the sex offender's list. It's a bicycle! An inanimate object...
As for the mechanics of the deed, that would be just too much information.
If sex with my bike is illegal, what other inanimate objects are tabboo? Can I have sex with a sock? A pop can (not that I could, I assure you... ahem)? A fire hose? Cutlery? You're right. It's stupid to charge the guy.
My apologies that the link doesn't work for some reason. Just google 'sex with bicycle' and it will take you there. That is if you really, really want to know.
What I want to know is how was his little tryst discovered?
Lock up your bikes.
I sort of want to read the article and sort of don't.
Two years seems a bit harsh, though, when if anyone got hurt, it was Mr. Stewart himself.
I really want to know how he was caught. As someone else said, surely what he does in the privacy of his own room is his business??
I am sure the bike was not moaning over loudly?
Gom & his mates in their young days used to refer to certain dodgy characters as 'bike seat sniffers', but I think that was a joke.
Oh, Mercy! The strange secrets men keep...who would have thunk it?
You never know what inner tumult is brimming just beneath the surface of the people around you - as I found out for myself this past summer (which is my way of saying, I've been gone from bloggerville whilst recovering from a personal shock...but it's getting better, and I am feeling more like myself...incidentally, all men are pigs - present company excluded)
Do you know I think you could write about anything, Ian. Thanks for the great laugh, your embellishment of the original story is priceless.
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