Rigby Taylor

A saline gargle and enema usually helps.

Well he is - anally - never been buggered.

Dinner in Calumnia’s favourite restaurant began more pleasantly than expected. She wore a simple dress, not too much makeup, spoke softly, and only bared her teeth once when Arch said he thought the lights were too dim. To the waiters she was charm itself; to the waitress she was civil. The meal was tasty but a bit oily for Mort. When both he and Arch refused wine, Calumnia drank the entire bottle on her own, then ordered another. ‘Is your background Italian?’ Mort asked when she spoke t

The 'patricians' are free to come and go in their paradise, so surely they are free and the rest of the world are in their prison? [I prefer gaol rather than jail - it looks more evil. What about you?]

Hopefully Timothy? Oh ye of little faith. How much do you bet?

Impending doom, eh? Who for? I wonder. A Fake ruined classical compound of insanely wealthy people living a quasi communist lifestyle... what's not to love?

[Excerpt from the brochure sent to prospective purchasers of the strata title residences.] “Oasis ™ is a secure, forty hectare gated estate containing thirty-eight owner-designed villas, each surrounded by a high wall enclosing a private pool and two thousand square metres of well tended garden. These luxury abodes nestle into expertly maintained parklands and ancient rainforest. The social centre of this earthly paradise is The Forum, which is comprised of five award-winning architectur

I wrote a witty response to this a few hours ago, but it seems to have got lost in transit. Never mind. It probably wasn't as amusing as I thought at the time. Thanks, Okiegrad - I'm equally amazed that you enjoy the tale.

The above post was intended for all three of you, but I forgot to press 'quote all'

Well!!! clearly I have no need to complete this tale of woe. You all know exactly what's going to happen. So perhaps I'll leave it here. Although.......... there are a few things you haven't predicted that just might tickle your fancies - or wherever you like to be tickled, so I'll think about it while pruning my recalcitrant fig tree, and probably post another gripping instalment this evening. Meanwhile, thanks heaps for following Mortaumal, I look forward to your comments just as much as you seem to look forward to the unfolding tale.

The schools of the church of FUMUTIE were all built to the same ground plan—two-storied blocks of classrooms on three sides of a quadrangle, the fourth side closed off by an impressive auditorium that seated seven hundred; used as an assembly hall, gymnasium and theatre. In front of the main auditorium doors, four broad steps led from a wide patio to ground level. In the centre of the quadrangle was a waist-high circular wall of stuccoed concrete. The five-metre-diameter well thus formed, was li

Thanks. All the good guys are well [as in appropriately] hung, Canuk. Massimo - as the name suggests, is the first massively hung young man. Like the Ancient Greeks, I find average sized genitals more aesthetically pleasing than the equine variety. Yes, real life is seldom an unadulterated delight. That's the function of fiction I reckon.

The males arrived just in time to prevent Mort from throwing off his disguise and declaring every female insane. It was a sight to be treasured. Midas, followed by fifteen healthy men. Heads high, talking easily among themselves, no hands covering groins, slightly nervous smiles glued to their youthful or not so youthful faces. All shapes and sizes from long and lean to short and stocky. Some hairy, others mostly smooth. Several tanned, the rest shades of pinkish white. The only two things they

Thanks Okiegrad. Yes, it's easy to see the bias in others and miss our own. How to change things? I reckon we should teach students how to think, as well as facts. But in my experience, many teachers don't know how to think clearly.

Thanks for picking that up. Here in Australia a few years ago, a group of Kindergarten teachers wanted to ban men from teaching at that level. There are only a handful of men in kindergartens, mainly because the females make their lives a misery, I've heard. Oh dear - touchy-feely science. Reminds me of an Aunt who when faced with facts would say, 'I don't care what the so-called facts say, I know what I feel.'

Thanks, Wesley. It's always a joy to know that readers want more than just a simple tale.

Or, things will just go back to the mundane reality of a bickering war of the sexes... your optimism regarding humans is admirable, skyacer.

It's people like you, Canuk, who make writing a pleasure. Thanks.

Ah, thanks Okiegrad - I've always dreamed of being articulate. Yes, instead of prohibiting, all you have to do is praise 'right' actions and ignore 'wrong' ones. A child who is praised for not running onto the road, will never run onto the road, because he wants to be praised, not ignored. Punishment destroys pleasure in learning, and teaches nothing.

Ah, they're not so bad. At least they listened. This is fiction, remember, and I'm deliberately caricaturing just about everyone, from a 'male lib' point of view. Actually, don't tell anyone, but I met a really nice woman once - somewhere - I can't quite recall where, but ... anyway, she said I was handsome, so what's not to like?

Entice eh? I like it. Always wanted to be a seducer of souls.

Thanks, skyacer. You are not wrong. Keep on soapboxing.

‘OK, Hale, where do you want to set up?’ Midas asked when the men left the drawing room. ‘Between the front steps and the fountain. The audience sitting on cushions—the kids on the lower steps, adults above. Then everyone gets a good view.’ ‘You don’t mind your audience being so close? The kids’ll just about be able to touch you.’ ‘The closer the better, then they’ll miss nothing.’ They arrived at the spot and waited for instructions. ‘OK, let’s unload.’ Despite the assis

Mort sprawled over the carpet listening to the Vivaldi Mandolin concerto while Hale did some stretching, bending, muscle toning and balancing exercises. Mort attempted to follow suit for at least ten seconds, then watched in awe as his friend did impossible things. As the music switched seamlessly from grand to playful, light and delicate to heavy and commanding, then back again, Hale’s movements were a visual accompaniment that added to the music, which seemed to wrap his body in perfect sound.

Sarcasm? Surely the creed espoused by Fumutie is no more incredible than Transubstantiation? Tragedy, is how I'd describe the fact that no large corporations - including religious ones, pay tax in Australia, especially considering that one year's tax take from the profits of religious corporations alone would balance the national debt, or provide good housing for every homeless person or... As an actor I experienced the same thing as your Greek actors. Non erotic nudity is so natural it is instantly absorbed as normal, leaving the audience free to concentrate on what matters. A normal naked male or female body is not sexually arousing. Only when clothing deliberately accentuates by selectively concealing the sexual organs, are the flames of over-heated imaginations fanned. I hadn't realised there is gradation of uniqueness.