Dr James Graham was a genuine doctor, but at a time when all genuine doctors were by modern standards complete frauds – the evidence for this can be seen in the fact that, for example the Edinburgh medical textbook of 1750 listed under ‘valuable remedies’ the following: horse dung, pig skulls, frogspawn, ants’ eggs and ground-up human skulls.

But Dr Graham, although interested in medicine, was far more interested in money, which is why when he left his native Edinburgh for London in around 1774 he set up his surgery in the most fashionable part of town at the time – St James.

By 1779 he had realised that an important medical affliction was not at that time being addressed by any medical practitioner.  Dr Graham decided that he would corner the market in cures for infertility. He set his Temple of  the Hymen in Pall Mall and took large expensive advertisements in the London newspapers. In these he made outlandish claims for the extrardinary benefits of what he called his ‘Cellestial bed’  The idea was that infertile couples would seek out the doctor, ask his advice and then be directed to his own certain cure: the Celestial Bed. Not only would the bed cure infertility – it would also ensure that any children conceived on it were far stronger and more beautiful ‘in mental as well as in bodily endowments than the present puny race of Christians’.

The bed could only be rented and couples paid exorbitant sums for the privilege – perhaps as much as £100 per session (around £12000 today).

Graham claimed that while an infertile couple had sex on his bed he would activate a mechanism that would surround the happy couple with ‘celestial fire’ and ‘cherishing vapours’.  He would also pump through glass tubes the very same perfumes used by the Turkish Sultan to guarantee that he could keep up with the demands of his enormous harem.

Despite the bed’s mattress being made from the baked tails of sexually rapacious English stallions, history does not record the levels of statisfaction enjoyed by Dr Graham’s customers, but we do know that within a few years of the advertisments appearing, the good doctor vanished from the London scene.

Im not quite sure about the correlation between viagra and infertility, apart from the obvious; but its a great story and one I wanted to share.  I get asked about viagra – a lot.  My opinion is that it is a fantastic little pill and definitely does work.  However, like must drugs, it has serious side effects and I would urge my fellas NOT to purchase anything of this nature from sources on the internet.  Please go and see your GP.  They know your history and can do a quick health check (blood pressure is the key factor here) to make sure all is ok.

Now then, I am off to find some celestial fire, cherishing vapours, and let me see, what else is on my list?  Oh yes the baked tails of sexually rapacious stallions, do you think Waitrose will have them?

High Class London Escort

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Anyway, Tate Britain is a mere hop and a skip from me, so we shall have to take a peak wont we?

High Class London Escort

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Now then, Ms Bunny has had a bit of a revamp and is sexier than ever.   I remember lots of boys swooning over her.  Yes a rabbit.  And a cartoon one at that.  It must have been the slow suggestive voice.  She still has no boobs, that would be indecent!  But from what I can see her legs are longer, she’s curvier and she has some super false eyelashes to bat at you. I have been told she was alluring and sensuous.  Hmm I think I will have to get a rabbit outfit. :)

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I am referring to fully fashioned stockings and the different types and way they are made.  Gentlemen of a certain vintage will remember them being worn by ladies all the time (those were the days!).  These days though, only a handful of producers manufacture stockings in the way they were made during the 1940′s and 50′s.

So, fully fashioned stockings are stockings made from nylon (hence ‘nylons’) and were knitted flat on the machine.  The two sides of the stocking are then sown together to form a seam – hence the sexy seam!  Fully fashioned stockings or FFS are bought by height or shoe size (mine are 34″ ).  Where it starts to get a little tricky (if you are buying some for a lady) is the variety of heel designs you can buy today.  You have the point heel, which as it suggest brings the heel to a point, then you have the havana heel which is a square top and the cuban which is the same as a havana but goes higher up the leg.  You also have the french which is pyramidal and then the manhattan which I am not too familiar with yet.

The top, ohhh the sexy top!  Well, that should have a finishing loop.  The loop is needed to allow the needle sewing the seam to be withdrawn.  All these sexy little touches began as practicalities, don’t you love that?

So once we have decided on the heel we have to think of the colour.  Black is of course my preference but I do have a few flesh coloured pairs including that vintage 1940′s pair that were acquired for me from a French market, all in original packaging – do you remember those?  Beautiful they are, and still going strong.    I have just ordered a pair of flesh tone with a sexy black seam from my supplier.  Perhaps you will get to see them soon?

I am not sure which are my favourites, I like them all!  The only problem is they are very expensive and do snag easily, so nails trimmed and watches off,  please fellas!

Dubai Escort

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Under the heading weird but wonderful…

The Look of Lust

Men spend almost a year of their lives ogling women.  Researchers have discovered that the average man stares at 10 women each day, a hobby that passes up 43 minutes.  Between the ages of 18 and 50, that adds up to 11 months and 11 days!

Happy Hookers

The Chinese people trust prostitutes more than government officials and scientists, a survey has revealed.  The poll of 3,400 people put sex workers in third place after farmers and religious workers.  ‘The sex workers unexpected prominence on this list of honour is indeed unusual’, said the China Daily newspaper, which was not too discouraged.  ‘Given the constant feed of scandals involving the country’s elite, this is not bad at all.  At least the scientists and officials have not slid into the least credible category which consists of real-estate developers, secretaries, (secretaries??), entertainers and directors.

******* (twinned with ****) - this is priceless!

The Austrian village of Fucking, which has installed CCTV to stop visitors canoodling by roadsigns, has been advised to cash in on its fame by the German town of Wank.  (Its true, I swear!).  A guest house owner, Jurgen Stoll, said ‘I have so many visitors here at the Wank guest house that we have the mattresses all in a line in one big room for people to sleep on.  Otherwise we couldn’t fit everyone in’

English speaking tourists have created a booming business opportunity.  A tourist official explained; ‘There are Wank postcards on sale, although many people prefer to take their own Wank holiday snaps standing beside the Welcome to Wank sign.’  But the people of Fucking will be hard to convince.  The mayor Franz Meindl has previously complained;  ‘We don’t find it funny.  We just want to be left alone’.

Hahahahaha – oh I cant stop laughing!

Warning for hornythologists

The secluded huts used by birdwatchers are becoming a favourite haunt of mating pairs.  Now a wildlife trust has to remind visitors that the hides are for watching animals, not human hanky-panky.  ‘There are certain things going on at nature reserves that shouldn’t’ says Rachel Shaw of the Lincolnshire Wildlife Trust. ‘A visitor heard certain noises coming from bird hides.  Nature reserves are for quiet enjoyment only.’  Lincolnshire police confirmed the problem.  ‘Up and down the country, hides are used for all sorts of things,’  said PC Nick Willey (no, honestly!)

Have a good weekend folks :)

Plymouth Escort

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A 34F!,  a 34F for chrissakes!   And it fitted like a glove.  Two things here, one this means I have to change my stats and secondly, will I never be able to find pretty lingerie without the bra looking like a boulder holder?  Oh woe is me!  (I think ;)

Otto Titzling

COMMEMORATED IN POPULAR song, trivia, and cautionary tale, the tortuous history of Otto Titzling (a.k.a. Titsling, Titslinger, Titzlinger) – no laughing at the back! – and the invention of the modern brassiere has a lesson to teach us all — though not necessarily the one you might expect.

As the story goes, Otto Titzling, a German immigrant living in New York City circa 1912, was employed at a factory making women’s undergarments when he met an aspiring opera singer named Swanhilda Olafsen. Miss Olafsen, a buxom woman by all accounts, complained to Titzling that the standard corsets in use at the time were not only uncomfortable to wear but failed to provide adequate support where it counted most.

Titzling rose to the challenge. With the help of his trusty assistant, Hans Delving,(is this for real, delving?, delving? purleese!) he set about inventing a new kind of undergarment specifically engineered to meet the needs of the modern woman. The “chest halter“  he designed proved to be a brilliant innovation and a commercial success, but our hero neglected to take out a patent, an oversight that would haunt him for the rest of his days.

Otto Titzling vs. Philippe de Brassiere

Enter the flamboyant, French-born fashion designer Philippe de Brassiere, who began ripping off Otto Titzling’s designs and manufacturing competing products in the early 1930s. Titzling sued de Brassiere for patent infringement. In a court battle lasting four years, the two men fought to prove ownership of the concept, facing off in a climactic courtroom “fashion show” in which live models paraded before the judge wearing prototypes by each designer. In the end Titzling lost the case, not only in the court of law but in the court of public opinion, where de Brassiere, with his knack for self-promotion, managed to cement in the public’s mind a lasting connection between the product and his own name.

In the words of songstress Bette Midler, “The result of this swindle is pointedly clear — do you buy a titsling or do you buy a brassiere?”

Titzling died penniless and unappreciated, we are told.

Oh and no Bristol(s) jokes purlease! x

PS   HAPPY BIRTHDAY MR P.   Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday Mr P, Happy Birthday to YOU !…

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1) Has to fit a lady with an ample bosom

2) Has to have a matching suspender belt (dont like hold ups!)

3) Has to be beautifully made

and 4) Oh french knicks as well? – what joy!

I was very lucky with the set you see above.  It’s a Janet Reger design and I have it in cream too.  If there were more colours at the boutique, I would have bought them all.  Vive la France!

A little bit from Wiki…

French knickers may have been so called since they were mimicry of the ‘visible’ underwear associated with Parisienne dancing, notably the Can-Can. The French themselves do not use this term for this style. The English began to associate the term with naughty or risque activity due to the connection to Montmartre and Pigalle, but in reality these knickers evolved into their final form from bloomers, the baggy, shapeless long-legged underwear of the Victorian era. By the 1950′s French knickers were almost the standard for British women and by the sixties this style was mass-produced in the ‘new’ nylon and other synthetic fabrics. A more practical design of French knickers had arrived, and proved very popular.

In the mid to late 1970s French Knickers, designed by Janet Reger and others, brought erotic and exotic style to lingerie. Of course major manufacturers through the 1980s to present day latched on to the trends.

Since the nineties, this style of lingerie has given ground in the marketplace to more aggressive styles for younger consumers. It becomes harder for major manufactuers to justify annual production, so they do not appear in shops at all often. They continue to hold the affection and attention of the generation who grew up with them, and as a result have transitioned back into the ‘naughty’ side of lingerie.

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 Breastology
An Essay

by Wayne Wallace

Breasts, boobs, tits, hooters, yahoos, yabbas, knockers, chi-chi’s, ta-ta’s, mammaries, and any number of other names have given to those beautiful symbols of female sexuality over the years.  I love breasts.  In fact, I have made an exhaustive,  personal study of the female breast for the better part of forty-five years.  I am, and always have been, a member of that elite group of men who are known as “boob-men”.  (I suppose that in the interest of political correctness I should acknowledge here that there are probably a number of women who might fall into this category as well, effectively changing the term to “boob-persons”).

During this forty-five year period, I have been engaged in an avid study of the female breast.  I don’t feel that my study of breasts is an obsession, for I am able to function in society without too many embarrassing incidents concerning the observation and study of the twin mounds.  I must, however, plead guilty to my wife’s accusation of always beginning a visual inspection of any woman, with an appraising look at her breasts.  Call this sexist if you like, call me a chauvinist pig, but this is honestly where my attention is focused and where the majority of my interest lies.

Of course, other areas of female anatomy appeal to me as well.  For example, a beautiful face is certainly an attention getter, or a nicely shaped butt in a tight pair of jeans has been known to turn my head.  I appreciate a shapely pair of long legs as much as the next guy, but, as I am enjoying and appreciating these attributes, rest assured that I have already checked out the boobs!  For me, these other enhancements merely add to the total package that the breasts headline.

The ultimate objective of most men (the hell with political correctness!) is of course that taco shaped universe that women sit upon, and around which, most men’s lives seem to revolve.  That part of the anatomy that has as many pet names as do the breasts, ‘the crown jewel” also has my admiration and respect.  However, the study of, the usage of, or the mere observation of this area requires far more time, commitment and risk than does the study of the female breast.   The study of the human breast is much more easily accomplished.  Some tact must be used when observing the female breast during “field studies”.  Blatant, open-mouthed, drooling stares, though not totally unheard of in my studies, are not considered gentlemanly behavior and certainly not in the best interest of the science of Breastology.

If one is discovered, observing the breast in its natural habitat, it is best to be discovered by the observee, than either by your spouse or the observee’s spouse or significant other.  The reason for this is the reaction of the various parties involved.  The reaction of your spouse is likely to be a punch and a “you never look at me like that” line.  The reaction of a rival male in this situation could be like that of a bull elk in one of those nature documentaries with all that head butting and antler rattling, etc.  The reaction of the subject being studied, usually, at its worst, merely results in a hand being placed on the neck of a low cut dress or an arm being pulled up to obscure the view of the breasts.  The most desirable reaction, although rare, is the willing smile directed at the observing “boob-person”.

I have often wondered why I have this “pointed” interest in the female breast.  It could be related to the fact that I was a breast fed baby and consequently, my earliest memories of the female breast conjure up such thoughts as nourishment, pacification, security, warmth, etc.  Assuming that this was the starting place for my interest and study, Junior High School certainly had to be the Basic Training Grounds of the science for me.

While puberty is changing a young man’s voice, causing acne problems and growing hair in previously barren areas, thoughts of breasts provide the necessary fantasy material needed for his struggle with sexual maturity.  I can remember being in 4th hour math class, staring at Mary Ann Mosely’s boobs, and daydreaming.  My sadistic math teacher, Miss Groffman, an old spinster woman of about 75, and by the way, whose boobs I NEVER checked out, called me to the board to reduce a fraction or something.  The very noticeable erection that I tried to conceal, became the laughing matter of the classroom for the rest of the semester.

National Geographic Magazine’s full color photos of African women’s breasts also served as an excellent resource for early study.  This of course, was in an era when Playboy magazines were not easily obtainable for pubescent males. Adding fuel to the fantasy fire were the Junior High girls, also struggling through puberty, whose newly developed boobs were often proudly displayed in padded bras under tight sweaters or white, transparent blouses.  That practice has not changed significantly to this day

As an avid breast observer, I often accompany my wife to any of the local shopping malls and wait, sitting on one of the benches while she shops.  This is the perfect observation post.  Ever wonder why all the old guys congregate there?  Young Ingenues may still be observed, sporting their newest, uplifting training bras in search of pubescent males with the intent of driving them out of their one-track minds.

During the late sixties and through the seventies, the “braless fad” afforded tremendous opportunities for the dedicated Breastologist.  It was during this era that I became a recognized expert as to  whether or not a bra was being worn.  I was often called upon to settle disputes, between old codgers waiting for their wives on a bench at the mall, as to whether a particular set of 38s were or were not holstered.

Just as Junior High school is the Basic Training Grounds for “boob-men”, High school is the early “field-study” area for the determined, life-long student of the female breast.   In High school, as dating becomes a possibility, being alone with a female “subject” in a car affords, at least the opportunity for advanced breast study and research.  One actually has the potential to touch, examine, and if one is extremely lucky, actually see, a pair of female breasts.  The search for the ideal female subject becomes the early goal of the high school age “boob-person”.  The criteria are these, in the order of their importance:

1.  Great breasts

2.  A willingness to allow extensive breast study and

observation for the benefit of science.

3.  Relatively attractive facial features.

4.  Someone not looking for a long-term commitment.

Young “boob-men” often plan their “field-studies” or dates around allowing adequate opportunity for observation and study.  Here is an example of a typical agenda for female subject field study.

Pick subject up at her house —————— 7:00 PM

Dinner at Restaurant —————————— 7:15 – 8:15 PM

Movie ————————————————— 8:30 PM – 10:30 PM

Private scientific observation & study —- 10:30 PM – 12:00

Subject home by 12:30 AM

The degree of scientific observation and study attained during these field studies is also recorded in degrees. ie:

Scientific Level Attained                                Study Accomplished

Level 1                                                             “Copped a Feel” – a light squeeze of either one

or both breasts through the clothing.

Level 2                                                             “Pressed the Flesh” – Actual contact with bare

breast, usually accomplished by inserting hand

into the bra.

Level 3                                                            “Nipple Contact” – Self explanatory

Level 4                                                             “Loosed the beasts” – Unhooked bra and

explored extensively.

Level 5                                                             “Visual Contact” – Actually observed the

breasts in their natural habitat.

Level 6                                                             “Tasted the Fruit” – Also, self-explanatory.

Attaining all levels with a subject may take several “field observations” to accomplish or they may all be accomplished in one encounter.  This usually is dependent upon the willingness of the subject to participate in the scientific study.  If all levels are accomplished in one field study, this is known as the “grand slam” of breast observation and is not only a very rare scientific event, but could actually lead to a chance encounter with the “crown jewel” about which I spoke earlier.  At this point in the field study, the researcher must make a decision whether to further his study of this subject, which in all probability would limit the student’s observation of other “subjects”, or to just move on to other subjects, in the interest of science.  This proves not only to be true for the dedicated “boob-man” but for exploration and discovery in general in most relationships from the high school age on through senior citizen status.

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