Welcome back to Mary Christmas’Christmas Mary message at Christmas, with me, Mary Christmas. You’ll notice I’m more cheerfully attired. Well I couldn’t do the mourning for long. Never liked Uncle Roy anyway, miserable bastard.
So, being sexy is about more than just pulling your tights down behind the bus stop, although some girls don’t even bother with that. Yes Becky, I am referring to you. Most men said, when encountering Becky for the first time: ‘If I’d known you were a virgin I’d have taken more time.’ To which Becky would reply: ‘If I’d known you had more time, I’d have taken my tights off…’
Anyway, I digress. To make yourslef more alluring, ladies, you have to make the right noises. I’m not talking the ‘oohhs’ and the ‘aahhs’ here. I am talking wild animal noises. Literally. If you can roar authentically like a lion then roar, girlfriend. If your speciality is giraffe whoops, then that’ll make somebody very happy. As for myself, my noble beast of choice, the specialite de la maison, if you will, is the majestic pigeon.
Men like to get in touch with their inner beast. And I like to get in touch with my inner pigeon. I used to hang around Trafalgar Square hoping for action, but all I ever got were bits of bread and the odd peanut. Once I chased Boris Johnson, trilling ‘COO COOOO!!!!’ but he was ashamed of the rampant passion I aroused in his manly bosom – he put me on an ASBO.
I think the lesson to be learned here is, don’t peak too soon. When you spot that gorgeous hunk in the pet aisle at Sainsburys, confine yourself to a hushed ‘croo – croo’. You’ll get his attention. When you’ve got him down the nightclub, you can go a bit further. Flap your wings, flaunt your tail feathers. And when you’re finally at home with the lights down low, stripped to a cardboard beak and a few plumes, then go, sister, go, fertilise those eggs, crack that shell and have a spurty white Christmas. Ding dong, merrily on high, ding dong!