Autoerotic Asphyxiation Part 2

This leads me on nicely to a recent story involving autoerotic asphyxiation. Or at least, police suspect it may be so. I’m not sure you’ll have heard it and if you haven’t then I’ll quickly outline it for you. Put simply a person who worked for MI6 was found dead in his flat. But not only that, they pondered that the deceased may well have died as a result of a sexual act known as autoerotic asphyxiation because he wasn’t just found dead. He was found dead in his flat. Within his flat he was within the bathroom. Within the bathroom he was in the bath. Within the bath he was in a sports bag. Now the reason, the police believe it may have been a sexual thing for this man, Gareth Williams, was because in this Russian doll-like mystery, he was actually naked within that sports bag. And that is what stops a murder investigation from perhaps being a murder investigation, because let’s face it, we have all fancied a cheeky wank within a sports bag when the moment arises. And by ‘moment’ I of course mean ‘penis.’

But I digress. The problem I have with this particular theory is that even if you were into being asphyxiated in what one might call an autoerotic way, I very much doubt you’d get fully naked, think the old orange and tie method is a bit too strange for you, and opt for your sports bag. Would you? In the defence of this belief though, maybe Mr. Williams didn’t have an orange or a tie to hand. He may have had the tie and when he then realised he was lacking the orange, opted to follow through with his pleasuring procedure as he couldn’t be bothered to go through with the whole rigmarole of putting his clothes back on, heading out to buy an orange and returning to the flat, only to undress once more. The want of that masturbation may have passed by then. And Gareth needed that orgasm now. Hence the sports bag.

But again, another query rears its ugly head from the recesses of my brain. Why would you clamber into the damn thing? Where’s the logic in that? Surely the whole idea of autoerotic asphyxiation is to starve yourself of air to the brain. So why not put your head in, zip around the neck and then commence? There’s just no logic to the idea of clambering in. This bloke worked for MI6 and he essentially thought that this was the best method of getting himself off? Really?

Let’s say for the sake of argument, Gareth Williams did think this. The zipping round the neck thing didn’t work for him because it reminded him too much of the feeling of a tie around his neck and he hadn’t yet go over his lack of an orange. That or he enjoyed a good ogle at himself as he did the deed. I don’t know. So let’s say for the sake of argument he does jump in the bag and zip it all the way up to maximise his chance of being asphyxiated. Fantastic. But then the question arises as to what exactly he plans to do once he reaches the point of climax. Where will it go? Williams is in a foetal position, in a sports bag and then what? He just covers himself in jizz? That’s got to ruin the mood hasn’t it? The brilliance of the orgasm marred by the complete disgust of what he has just done to himself. He’d have then had to find the zip to the bag, pull himself out and wash himself down; mentally reminding himself to was the bag before his next visit to the gym.

The problem with this whole autoerotic asphyxiation theory is the fact that the investigating police suggested this whole idea in the first place. It makes me wonder how good a detective might be lurking within me. For I have omitted a key detail which may help to better understand why Mr Williams may indeed have been murderer after all. The body was padlocked inside the bag.

Now, either this is a case of murder or Gareth Williams was a bit of a masturbation maverick. He saw himself as top of the game. So what he did was he entered the flat, about to fulfil his craftiest deed yet. He has worked himself down from suitcases to a single sports bag. This was it. He would undress himself and get inside the bag, zipping it up in the process. Perfect. He’d then reach through a torn panel of the bag and place a padlock around the zip. Great. He’d then carefully sew up the bag from the inside, swallow the needle and string in case he failed in his yet-to-be-explained-to-you-the-reader mission and didn’t want to be found in this most embarrassing way because anyone who is anyone would have jumped to the conclusion of autoerotic asphyxiation. I put it to you now, that in this position, the majestic Gareth Williams would then wank himself silly, ejaculate, attempt to undo the lock from the inside like a modern-day Houdini and once on the outside see if he had beaten his personal best for the speed of completion in this task.

So it’s either my theory or murder. The way that the British police seem to be working, I reckon my theory has the edge.

The Future

So, anyone else find the future exciting? Who knows what is just around the corner? But thinking even further ahead, we get to, hopefully, experience marriage and of course becoming a parent.

Now this is something I am really looking forward to, and after a discussion with a friend the other day, I think I may need a really loving wife to allow me to do all the things with my children that I want to do. If you suddenly have Josef Fritzl images in your mind then you are on the wrong track entirely.

What I mean is just general things which you can only get away with if you are the parent of said child. When my child is only a few days old I want him or her to sleep in a shoebox. Just for a laugh. Take a photo and hide it away for use in future years.

When the wife goes out, leaving me with the baby fast asleep, I want to play a quick game of human buckaroo, chucking al sorts of rubbish over my first born. Pens, receipts, condoms...I may even buy a pack of cigarettes just to play the game with them. I put 4 between the fingers. And light them. When my child gets their first graze, I'll administer a plaster in the form of an apple sticker. Just because I can and they don't stay small forever.

Photos will be taken when they are naked of course. And if it's a bloke, the penis size will undoubtedly be taken the piss out of. I might put on an upset expression and the international sign for 'tiny cock' behind my newborn. Ah what delights we can look forward to.

But my best plan, well I like to think so, is to place a marmite lid on their tiny head and take a picture. Just because it looks funny. you may have noticed I am a white guy so it may not look as good as if I had a black baby. some people have called that joke racist, so to even it out, I may put a marmite lid on a friend's black baby and a mayonnaise lid on mine.

Is this cruel? I don't think so. I mean they will be costing me a fortune over the next two decades so I think I deserve some laughter now. The only problem I have is if my wife doesn't find any of these things funny. But when the cat's away...

Thinking about it now, I don't think I'm fit to be a parent.

Pavement Walking

We've all done it. You leave the house, do a right and walk along the pavement and see someone coming the other way. And you know instantly what will happen. You are both walking in the centre of the pavement - avoiding branches on one side, the road on the other. Both very sensible positions, until you meet. From about ten metres apart you realise the problem - carry on like this and you'll surely bump into each other. So you both start swaying form one way to the other trying to second guess the other person. Whilst doing this you continue moving forward. Just to add to the thrill, I guess. Will we manage it before we hit each other? Sometiems, the answer is yes. Other times it is not and you couldn't feel more like a failure of a human being if you tried. Oh the shame! Oh! The shame!

Stay calm. You both stop. then sway on the spot. Smiling. Always smiling. You continue saying 'you're a twat' over and over again in your head. Unsure whther you are aiming it at them or yourself. Then one of you takes the courage to stop. The other watches this, still swaying. They stop and decide yes, I shall take the left. And for some indefinable reason, the person who was still swaying suddenly decides that no, they want the left too. So you both stop on the left. You look at each other again and sway to the right. Both of you. One person holds their ground, the other weakens and goes for the left again. Then you both walk on. Smiling and apologising as you pass. Both of you acknowledging you are a failure as a human being. Promising to never again indulge in such tomfoolery. Ultimately swearing never again to be such a tool. Such an absolute idiot. And then you wonder...did I lock the door when I left?