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Sunday, 19 June 2011

image for My Favourite Slut Walks by Sir Digby Herring-Bone Sweater No 24. Croydon-On-The-Lash A common Slattern

Each week we join Sir Digby Herringbone-Sweater as he takes us on one of his famous Slut Walks. This week, Sir Digby discovers the cultural high watermark that is Croydon-On-The-Lash and its environs.

I step off the rickety tram (a charming hallmark of a bygone era) alighting on the outskirts of East Croydon station, wondering what sights I will behold on this, my latest Slut Walk? I can barely contain my excitement! Perhaps my ogling goggles will take in a Greater Breasted Slattern or perhaps I will have the good fortune to chase-up a Lesser Gusseted Strumpet. My extremities positively tingle with the anticipation as I make my towards the historic Tiger Tiger Meat Market at its centre.

On my way into town I am accosted by a lively street vendor hawking his wares.

"You wanna boi sum DeeVeeDees mayte?" he slurs

I have no idea what a DeeVeeDee might be, and I dismiss his request with an elegant flourish -

"Be about your business good sir!" I say, before making my exit.

"Pees off you posh kant!" he retorts.

No doubt I have become the victim of some ribald Gipsy curse! I will have to watch my step from now on. Should the buttons mysteriously fall off my waistcoat, I will know why!

I head onto George Street, a spring in my step, my eyes assaulted by the riot of colours on display. The lurid signs that adorn every premises make my head spin, and the words appear to be written in some ancient Aramaic script that make them hard to decipher. I can make out that they have a "Sub-Way", and a "Nando's". What can it all mean? I decide to alight at a local hostelry for some much needed refreshment. It is called a "Wetherspoons".

I must confess some disappointment with my service at the "Wetherspoons". The staff had never heard of Doctor Winkleman's Sarsaparilla Water, nor Butterman's Constitutional. What kind of establishment is this? In the end I have to settle for the rather strangely titled "Stella's Wife Beater". I don't know who this man Stella is, but surely it is the duty of every upstanding married man to ensure that his spouse receives a regular, daily, beating.

I finish the "Wife Beater" and feel thoroughly refreshed. Perhaps I have misjudged Mister Stella? I feel like a new energy has awakened inside me, and I am quite tempted to return to that street vendor and give him a piece of my mind! Fortunately for him, I have more important matters to attend to.

I bid good-day to my new companions at the hostelry and they return the compliment with a cheery "Feck orf yew posh kant!" This must be some sort of popular local greeting!

I proceed to the main thoroughfare and have the good fortune to chance upon a flock of Common Slatterns in full mating plumage. It appears that one of the older females has regurgitated its meal. The others stand around making appreciative clucking noises. I watch fascinated by the noisy display, until one of the group says-

"Oi! wotch-yew lookin at yew awld pervv??"

Which reminds me that I must make haste to the final stop on my itinerary - The famous Tiger Tiger Meat Market.

I am pleased to say that when it comes to Sluts, Tiger Tiger does not disappoint.

Upon entry I witness the mating rituals of Common and Greater Breasted Slatterns, Lesser and Bare Gusseted Strumpets, Common Booty-Hos, all varieties of Five, Seven and Ten Pinters as well as a sizeable collection of Common Munters.

As the evening draws to a close, I reflect on the brief time that I have spent in Croydon-on-the-Lash and concede that this has been a particularly fine Slut Walk, even by my standards. I vow to return one day and chase up another Common Booty-Ho or Greater Breasted Slattern.

Next week: Sir Digby Herringbone-Sweater visits, Romford-on-the-Razz, for another of his famous Slut Walks.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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