Knicker Knocker and the Disappearing Bikini

Why would a man want to break into women’s homes and steal their underwear? That it is a former British mayor is all the more surprising. Ian Stafford, 58, was quite a different man at work. Ah, but naturally. So when a mayoress says, “I always thought of him as a very quiet man who was a regular church-goer and very popular in the village”, I began to imagine him surveying the congregation and narrowing his eyes to check out sizes. He had to resign when the Lancashire police found a stack of stolen thingies from his house.

I understand fetishes, so why did he not just go shopping and pick up some stuff? And, to put it indelicately, if he did like the female fragrance, did he assume that the women would leave their panties unwashed?

The report says something that beats me: “Video footage one of the victim’s bedroom, showed a semi-naked man going through the drawers, and then putting on her knickers before performing a sex act.”

Performing a sex act? With whom? It obviously wasn’t with her, so I guess all this self-love is called a sex act by the Brits.

Now, if only mayors were vigilant in other aspects.


Talking of undergarments, what do you think of a bikini that does a water disappearing act? Some chaps in Germany have started marketing the Get Naked swimwear, only in black, that vanishes after three minutes in water.

Is there a philosophical reason behind this jugglery? No. The sellers believe it is an opportunity for guys to wreak vengeance after they have been dumped.

Again, I am stupefied. Feminists are calling this an insult to women. I’d say it is plain silly. Why would any woman accept gifts from a man she has rejected? This is really dumb. If the woman does accept this generous present and wears it, will the man stand near the water’s edge to capture the moment? Or will he jump into the pool and say, gotcha babe, I can see you…as though he hasn’t already?

Heck, this could be a great gift for women on the rebound. Imagine, she wears it to the beach, walking leisurely on the sand, then curls her toes with determination. There are men eyeing her. She slips into the water, the black standing out against the foamy white of the waves or the blue of the pool, and three minutes later if she isn’t done with her laps she emerges naked, hair falling over her breasts and hands tantalisingly covering her quinny. She won’t even have to look for a man. They will be salivating. The dumped boyfriend will feel even more dumped and hope the sand would eat him up.

So, go for it women. You have nothing to lose but your G-strings.