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.

Two Sketches

As said in the previous post below which I only posted a few minutes ago, so you won't have had time to read it...here are two sketches I wrote last night. enjoy! And if you don't enjoy them, well...tough.

St Peter

St Peter: Enjoy your stay in Heaven.

Man: Hi.

St Peter: Hello Welcome. Enjoy your-

Man: Pete isn’t it?

St Peter: Haha, SAINT PEE-TER, I think you’ll find. Enjoy your-

Man: No, yeah, Pete.

St Peter: SAINT PEE-TER.

Man: Yeah, whatever. And this is heaven yeah?

St Peter: It is indeed.

Man: Ever been inside?

St Peter: Heaven? No, no, no. I guard the gates here you see.

Man: Ah right. Very commendable.

St Peter: Thank you.

Man: So what’s it like inside?

St Peter: Well it’s Heaven isn’t it? So it’s paradise, from what I hear.

Man: So what, you never take breaks? Relieved by someone else?

St Peter: No I...full time. You know how it is.

Man: Yeah but surely you must get some breaks?

St Peter: Umm...no. Someone has to guard the gates.

Man: Yeah well you could get cover?

St Peter: Well I’m guarding the gates...

Man: Yeah but what do the others do?

St Peter: Others?

Man: Yeah, Jesus and the crew.

St Peter: Well Judas...

Man: No, I know about Judas but the others. Where are they?

St Peter: Well they-they...

Man: They’re in Heaven aren’t they? Living it up large in paradise whilst you guard the gates. These are supposed to be your friends.

St Peter: Well they are...

Man: Doesn’t sound like it.

St Peter: Well the gates need to be guarded.

Man: Why do they? Don’t you get sent straight to Hell if you’re going there and straight here if you're going to Heaven?

St Peter: I...I guess.

Man: And why guard the gates? There’s no fence, so anyway can go in.

St Peter: Well it’s tradition.

Man: It’s a disgrace is what it is. How long have you been guarding these gates for?

St Peter: Thousands of years...

Man: And how long are you guarding them for before you are allowed into Heaven??

St Peter: Well, for eternity.

Man: Ouch man. That’s a bad deal. Still, better luck next time, eh? Nice chatting. Have a good day.

Man walks through the gates leaving a very upset St Peter at the gates.

St Peter: Welcome, enjoy your stay in Heaven...

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The Not-so-Good Samaritan

A man lies dying on the floor.

A priest walks by.

Man: A priest! Help me!

The priest walks on.

A levite walks by.

Man: A levite thank God! Help me!

The levite walks on.

A Samaritan appears.

Man: Help me!

Samaritan: I shall indeed help you, my child.

He walks towards the dying man. His phone goes off. He answers it.

Samaritan: Hello, Samaritans? A man in trouble? I’ll be there!

The Samaritan turns to the dying man.

Samaritan: Sorry, I’ve got to go.

Samaritan walks off.

David Blaine appears.

David Blaine: Hi, I’m David Blaine. I’ll help you.

Man: Screw that.

Man dies.

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And so there we have it. Two sketches. Not sure if the David Blaine things works or not. Who knows.

Edit: My brother wants some credit for the latter sketch. So I gave him 25 man points. Ho ho ho, etc.

Random Joke - War

Hello everyone. I have noticed my clock is wrong when I post suff. I should edit that but I kind of like the idea that people think I am sitting there at my desk all night long straining to come up with a joke until at 5am I suddenly find some inspiration. Or alternatively I wake up at 5am and think to myself, "I have it! This is it! Must post!" and run to the computer and immediately type it up.

Anyway I have come up with a joke about war, what with it being D-Day celebrations and all. Typical comedy subject of course. War. I say that I have come up with it. That implies I came up with it today. I haven't. It's very old. I have just never written it down.

Anyway it involves the trench wars. You know, like world war one. And I have never really understood world war 1 and the like. It's like I can har you now wanting to scream at me, "What?! You can; understand men wanting to tear each other apart, fight to the ground and ultimately be responsible for their last gasping breath?!" Not at all. I understand that bit clearly. It's the whole trench bit i don't get.

Because...someone has had to dig that trench. Literally, I imagine, hundres of men have dug out that trench. But at what point did the officer say stop to his troops and demand they dig? Isn't the aim of war to push on and defend as much of your land as possible?

"Non. 'Ere will do. Dig." (He's french...speaking english)

But then what if both sides met each other before trenches had been dug? Would they just fight? Or give each other 3 days to dig as much as they could and then the fighting begins? The mind boggles. Hell, what if one side had not brought shovels?

"You didn't bring a shovel to war?!"
"Well, no...I mean once I'd packed the football..."
"Why the hell did you bring a football?"
"Thought we could have a bit of a kickabout..."

Anyway that is that for now. Rough stages as all these jokes are...I wrote two sketches yesterday. I'll upload them too in a few minutes.