Masturbator

WANKING IN THE PARK WITH UNCLE IVAN

: Uncle Ivan (June 6, 11:36AM) – “The jigg is up Annie (and that’s the only thing that is. *narf*)

I was always wondering why you call yourself “Uncle Ivan,” Uncle Ivan. Now I think I know.

Summer is here and it’s time to hit the park bench in your dirty raincoat and bag of candy. The fresh air certainly beats the crawlspace behind the bookshelves. You do realize that any customers – who are probably similarly inclined – will probably hear your grunts and creaking chair but I suppose you don’t mind. But chin up, summer is here!

Uncle Ivan, I think you might be able to contribute to a theorizing of wanking for us. There are, of course, the patients in the lunatic asylum who, for purposes of this discussion, are “ultra vires” but the question as to whether wanking is class specific remains. Do members of the Halifax Underclass, for example, have their own fantasies while wanking or is there a brotherhood of wankers extending across class lines? Of course, there is the further question as to just what these fantasies might be. My hypothesis, perhaps counter-intuitive Uncle Ivan, is that wankers don’t fantasize about the opposite sex so much as their own particular fetishes. Take yourself. Do you fantasize about incunabula? War stories? Military weaponry? Do they turn you on?

Of course, I could be entirely wrong about this. You might fantasize about those girlish, hairless, cleft knobbies after all. I mean, it does tie in with “Uncle Ivan,” doesn’t it.

Write back with details. We must flesh out, so to speak, a theory of the park-bench masturbator.

“Narf?”

A pleasure as always.

Cheerio!