Low life
The unkindest cut of all
Jeffrey Bernard
Ihave been brooding about the man whose wife cut off his penis and I have been doing my brooding with my legs crossed. Thank Gad I don't live in Ameri- ca. The cheering of American females came across the Atlantic after the deed was done and it is still ringing in my ears. Even the few harridans who have visited me these past few days have had a spring in their step.
But there are aspects of this penisectomy which puzzle and intrigue me. The husband has been found not guilty of rape. If he had been guilty then he should have been pun- ished severely, but I think that parting him from his member was a little over the top. The man must be a fool as well. If a woman climbed into my bed with an eight-inch kitchen knife I think I would get the hint. It would be a clue of sorts, anyway.
Then, why did she drive off with the sev- ered organ? She could have flushed it away or given it to the dog, but she drove off with it and threw it in some long grass, wasting valuable police time in the search for it. Apparently a severed penis will last for 18 hours if it is kept cold. Don't I know. You could add a few weeks to that. But while he waited in the hospital for the wretched thing to be returned it seems that he bumped into an old chum and they fell into conversation. He should have been bleeding to death but luckily for him a clot formed which saved him. But to stop for a chat in that condition does, you must admit, take some balls.
A couple of surgeons who must be quite brilliant managed to sew it back on and it is to be hoped that they sewed it back the right way round. My man at the Middlesex Hospital would have put a titanium plate in it as he did my hip to make sure it couldn't happen again. But what with the nerves having been severed the idiot will get no joy when he next pulls it out for a trial run and it serves him right. Mind you his wife should have left him and gone back to Ecuador. Her drastic measures speak vol- umes for the Latin temperament. Women here, though, don't need knives. I know female scribblers who can emascu- late a man with one withering glance of contempt. But a major worry and anxiety for me now is that when it is my turn for an old flame to perform a penisectomy on me it will not be sewn back because I am a smoker and we know how doctors feel about helping smokers. Oddly enough, Central Television telephoned yesterday to ask me if I would consider going on a show in which they are to discuss teenage smok- ing. I said I would but mulling it over in my mind last night I have decided that I would have little contribution to make to the show. I do think that smoking is silly and bad, but I also think that telling people what they can and cannot do is worse in some ways. The Government's aim to keep everyone alive for ever while at the same time ruining the National Health Service is a mad contradiction.
Edwina Currie was bad enough, but she has nothing on the awful Virginia Bottom- ley, who would have made an excellent health minister in the Third Reich, although storm troopers were notoriously heavy smokers. She would willingly throw a bucketful of penises into the long grass like the Ecuadorian wife and we would all end up grovelling in that long grass arguing about which one belonged to whom. In that event there would be some whopping lies told, with Norman probably foolishly laying claim to a large black job. Yes, I fear the lady from Ecuador might have started a new fashion which will become all the rage.
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