Sunday, June 29, 2008

Titillation on the 1004 to Fenchurch Street Station

That’s three times this has happened now. Why me? Where there? Why them?

For the past few months, I have suffered an affliction. A tragic, strange condition that impinges upon me only with a small locality.

This morning, like other, innocent mornings, between Limehouse and Fenchurch Street Stations, a usually innocuous stretch of rail-track, I spied from the dubious safety of my train carriage another naked man. Totally starkers.

This is the third time it has happened. And always at the same train line. Different men; different places, but always the same area, and I’m always on the train.

Thankfully, they are not.

It impossible not to look at a naked man. Your eye, like some masochistic, rogue organ, darts hungrily from peripheral view to all-consuming OMG there’s a naked man subsuming my entire vision within an instant. Your conscious is powerless to prevent its own temporary destruction.

Now, I fear, my eyes become excited whenever they reach the area. They begin their prowling, hopeful search for naked men. “This will distress our owner” say those malevolent bastards.

What is it with the men of Limehouse? Does it have a scorchio micro-climate? If so, why the hell isn’t there counter-balancing women? I have never seen a women perform a little East End dance of public nudity. Or perhaps my eyes discretely guide me away from such sights?

A friend claims that there’s a women homed near to where he lives, who stands in her bay window and four o’clock every day. Only, she seems to forget to dress above the waist on each occasion.

It is curious that she chose four o’clock. Maybe it was her post team-time treat?

In other news, India beat Bangladesh.


Spigot said...

Mimms, are you paying attention to the stations here? You should probably write them down for safe keeping.

Miriam said...

Spigot, I have no need for such things.

Separately, I was once happily minding my own business on a train from Liverpool Street, and a man sat opposite me and proceeded to, um, service his equipment. It was not pleasant.

Anonymous said...

First it was mens bums, then the moobs, now full blown male nudity!

I for one, hail our first gay cricket blogger!

Now I know where all the naked cricketer searches are coming from.

Miss Field said...

I love this blog.

The Atheist said...

For some reason, Miriam, nearly 50% of London women have shared the same experience, I have found.

What do blokes do this?


Suave, you may be on to something there. I'm sure mum'll be happy...

Cheers, Missy, your blog is one of the handful that I read regularly too. BLOGGER LOVE-IN!!

Miriam said...

"For some reason, Miriam, nearly 50% of London women have shared the same experience, I have found."

YOU have found? How do you know? Are you one of the perps?

The Atheist said...'s lonely being a celebrity...