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Aunty Bill,

Last night my partner told me he had fallen in love with the back door. This morning I awoke to find my partner gone and just a draught where the back door used to be.

There was a note on the table, presumably written by the back door as my partner is illiterate. The note said, “One day you will find closure.”

Not only am I heartbroken I am freezing. How do I win them back?

Meredith, Ottawa

Aunty Bill Replies;

Dear Meredith,

You don’t state in your letter whether the door was UPVC or standard wooden half Georgian wired glass.

At this troubled time you probably wonder why I am asking what type of door it was, but in the days ahead, when a window of clarity appears you will have to think about a replacement door and depending on the type that ran off with your (ex) partner this will dictate what type of frame, lock and extra security you require.

I always recommend a standard 5 lever bolt lock (ISO234567) is fitted where the door is UPVC, although for a wooden door an Ingeroll Chubb and separate mortice should suffice. Be sure to allow for the stress factor on wooden doors and if in doubt fix an extra hinge to allow for any slippage.

Experience dictates that men who run off with doors seldom return. At this point I could make a cheap jibe about knockers. But won’t.

Aunty Bill

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Still Giving Lurve One Year On

Cellulite Blues

Please help me Oily George!

At first I thought cellulite was the lost tribe of Israel. Then my friend Amanda thought it was a low fat spread. She is kinda right as it has spread all over my thighs. I’ve tried lard, monkey innards and even laid a Barbara Taylor Bradford novel over the affected area – alas to no avail.

What can you suggest?

Sue, Melton Mowbray

Oily Replies

What you mean they aren’t a lost tribe of Israel?

In my line of business – ‘grown ups art’, cellulite is indeed a concern as I know that my discerning fans, as they sit peering at the screen, tissue in hand, do not wish to observe what looks like discarded orange peels wriggling in ecstasy. Puts some people off their, eh, stroke, if you will. There is a surgery close to my home here in Silicon Valley which deals with this problem. I’ll send you the contact details. Meantime Sue perhaps you could send me a picture of your breasts lathered in baby oil? It’ll give the surgeons a better idea of which procedure best suits.

Lasciviously Yours

Oily

 

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Hello Oily,

Several weeks ago I went to a health spa and had the nose spore cleansing that uses Siamese cat spittle as the cleansing agent. My nose has never been so shiny!

However since then I am becoming increasingly feline in my daily activities. Nocturnal, urinating over furniture, munching on mice and not really giving a shit. I have also developed a taste for licking my bottom in front of the TV.

My man has put a bell around my neck.

Do you think I should ask for my money back?

Tiddles, Avondale

Oily Replies;

Tiddles

This problem screams to me of someone who ain’t getting any.

Not surprising if you have allowed your pink canoe to go unused. My lady loveboy is always kept well manicured. In fact I insist on helping in this task myself using my own personal bag of tricks to aid him. I will send you one of these Lovebags on receipt of £ 39.99 plus p&p and a DVD of you and your girlfriend at the masseurs all hot and lithesome and……

Ahem oops..sorry I got sidetracked. Slightly. God is it hot and clammy in here or is it just me?

Anyway poppet the important thing is that once that lawn has been mowed and your punanny pavement has been pounded, the world will seem a much better place.

Have a saucer of milk to get you in the mood…..

Oily

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Aunty Bill,

6 weeks ago I was walking along Blackpool Pier, whistling a cheery refrain when a seagull swooped down and pecked me in the unmentionables.

A nearby dog saw this and ambled and sniffed me “downstairs”. Then a monkey, who was eating an ice cream, came over and stuck the cone on me privates.

Finally a rather large Trappist monk leered at me and mimed a spanking motion – I deduced  a form of atonement for my sins.

At no time did my wheelchair bound partner offer to help me fend of these attacks. The monkey let down her tyres and I walked off in a huff with the ice cream cone still plonked on my little stick of Blackpool rock.

Blackpool Council called me this morning to ask when I was going to collect my girlfriend as she was still on the pier and struggling with barnacle build up.

Do you think I should go and collect her or just Fedex her a tyre pump and tell her to get on with it?

Daniel Defoe, Letherhead

Aunty Bill Replies!

Dear Dan

The scenario you describe has all the hallmarks of a sustained sesh on the bong. Seek help (and give me the number of your dealer).

Many years ago I witnessed first hand the damage drugs can do as a similar situation happened to a dear friend of mine (without the appearance of a monkey and wheelchair).

Said friend accompanied me to the city of Hamburg for a football tournament. After running away from an ex mate of the Beatles to avoid buying him a drink (another story for another time), he decided it would be a good idea to team up with a group of Mexicans and partake of a glass of Mescal.

This led to him to “Peyote Pete” and the beginnings of a Mescal Fury.

I myself was a tad messy and in the ensuing imbroglio we lost each other in the crowds of sozzled Mexicans. Some hours later I received a call from a panicked Oily who said he was on a giant gateaux travelling through the Black Forest with no idea how he got there.

It later transpired that he was in fact in a shop doorway near the train station covered in emulsion (Harvest Peach as it turned out, matt from memory).

Let this salutary tale be a warning to you Richard. Just say Nada.

However, If she can wheel herself to the nearest garage she can use the air line for a nominal fee (Jet Garages are free) thus saving you the cost and hassle of Fedexing a pump to her.

Trebles all round!

Aunty Bill

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Oily,

The drama teacher says my acting career will never amount to more than a hill o’ beans. Despite not knowing what that means, I’m assuming it ain’t positive as she always gets the class to laugh at me whilst I’m taking my turn on stage.

I have done all the classes and got top marks like, but my protruding tooth, flaming ginger hair and the mole sitting on the end of my nose are a hindrance. Any tips?

Bob, Over There

Oily Replies

Hi Bob,

A sad story, but there is inspiration out there. My fellow Oscar winning actor Ron Jeremy is no oil painting as you seen from his role in genteel Sunday night period dramas, Go Down on Abbey and Rockford’s Piles.

With his pot belly, webbed toes and dubious taste in sandals, Ron is no Ryan Gosling, yet pneumatic, breathy, stiletto wearing, badly dubbed girls the world over have loved him dearly. Frequently. All at once. Sometimes involving implements to!

So there is hope

Oily

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spermwithaperm Hi Everyone!

Been a while!

Two Words!

Tight Underpants!

As hot as hell in here while he wore that thong.

Then it all changed yesterday!

Boxers!

Aaaahh the sheer relief of a dangling pair of knackers. (Go the whole hog and make kilts compulsory – let ’em sway fellas!)

Oh well time to get back in the saddle. Giddy Up!

As Tennyson may have written, “Into the Valley of Death, rode the 40 million…….”

Right……Ready Or Not…..Here I Come!

sperm_wiggle

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Oily

I was wondering if there is an opening for a guy like me in your movies. I am 6 feet tall, tanned and my buttocks are pert. I can whistle the back catalogue of the Beatles whilst under water and recently escorted well-known Dolly Bird, Dolores Titwank to the opening of the “Dixy, Trixie, Lixie Southern Fried Chicken Y’all” shop in Harlesden, where I ate chicken nuggets off her ample cleavage.

I have no nipples though.

Any use to you?

Nippleless Nippleby

Oily Replies;

I know Dolores well. Met her through her sister Fellatio Felicity from Faversham. Lovely girl. So giving. Prone to speaking with her mouth full though. Causes a right mess. Little wonder my laundry bill is so high!

Nippy I have absolutely no doubt I could use you. On our books we have all manner of odd balls freaks, kinksters, fetishists, perverts, onanists, duoists, orgiests and various other made up words. So long as you aren’t a Tory blue blood. Got to draw the line somewhere. They always go too far. Not enough to f**k one, two or a small intimate group of like minded individuals, they have to f**k entire communities who never asked for it in the first place.

Oh my a bit of politics people.

My name is Oily George I’m here all week. Or until my bail is paid.

Free The Oily 1!

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Hello

About a year ago we cause quite a stir with this post about Gibbons, Banjos and the Diary of lost Missionary Obadiah Melordy, who was the first honky to witness Gibbons plucking banjos in their natural habitat.

Here once again are those revelatory images and the extract from Obadiah’s Diary

It was the American Baptist Missionary Obadiah Melordy in his zeal to convert the peoples of the Bangpang peninsula to all things Godly who discovered their talent.

His diary (published posthumously in 1907) recounts the extraordinary events;

March 23rd 1887

“There is still no sign of my banjo, taken two days hence from outside the tent whilst Mrs Melordy and I succumbed to the steamy surroundings in a rigorous bought of intercourse both sexual and social. My lovely wife had sought to reassure me that my instrument (which in an act of wanton sentimentality I had named Jefferson) would be returned with an immediacy that would allow us to draw a veil over this unfortunate act of larceny and Godlessness amongst the peoples of the peninsula.

Up to this point the natives had shown a typically witless savage charm when faced with superior Godly white folk. At approximately noon today however, they appeared restless and in a state of high dudgeon. Mrs Melordy attaching her seventh undergarment, advised me to draw back the flaps of the tent.

And lo! A sound, the like of which neither I nor my wife would ever have considered and Scripture had never prepared us for, swam around us. Banjos being played like a whispered lullaby.

“Mr Melordy! Jefferson is being strummed!” my wife declared, “I believe I can hear another. Now another! Now a fourth! Look up yonder in the lee of the great tree!”

My dutiful wife, so long a bastion of petticoated virtue fainted. I cast my gaze toward the direction of the sound expecting to see natives playing some simple, godless tune upon Jefferson.

Instead I saw a troop of Western Hoolock Gibbons, idly swinging in the trees strumming banjos, each with a practiced ease that took me back to the front porch of my Father’s stead in Kansas.

Within the notation I could hear the harmonies of a favourite Christmas Carol “Away in a Manger” sung by our small, but spiritually engaged community only three months previous to celebrate Our Lord’s birth. Truly a miracle.”

March 24th 1887

“It would appear from Nincompoop, our one eyed guide and valet that a startling event has unfolded. I had asked him to retrieve Jefferson from the light fingered Gibbons and in his innocent savage way he had set off at dawn eager to please me (They are such a happy people when guided by God’s word!)

He returned only to bid Mrs Melordy and I to follow him. With trepidation we followed. Only the sound of my beloved’s petticoats rustling under my tunic could be heard. Mrs Melordy fainted due to the Christian application of a whalebone corset.

We left a guide with her and moved on.

Nincompoop and I crept forward. Closer to the troop. We were greeted by a sight of such perspicacity and dexterity that I too nearly swooned. For in a clearing sat the large troop of Gibbons with the adults strumming Banjos.

A large male was threading a recently made instrument with steel wire, presumably stolen from our provisions. Around him were strewn several roughly made tools.

We watched. Amazed. Nincompoop produced an ancient revolver (a trophy from the earlier Wesleyite missionary St John Tabard of Sevenoaks, England, whose end has never been fully explained) and took a bawdy aim at the large male. I placed a hand on his shoulder and intimated that we back away and leave the troop to strum in peace.

March 25th 1887

I am pleased to say Mrs Melordy has fully recovered from her fainting fit and we had just completed another rigorous bought of intercourse, both sexual and social, when the Gibbons’ Banjos struck up once more.

This time they played a Waltz! Seized, I am ashamed to say by the Godless desire to dance, Mrs Melordy and I reeled for several minutes as we used to in our courting days before sadly she succumbed to the heat and fainted once more.

I am no longer convinced about the efficacy of Whalebone corsets and have vowed not to wear women’s under garments in the tropics.

As I awaited her revival I studied scripture. There was nothing I could find that  explain how Gibbons, low savage beasts as they are, could construct and play Banjo’s in such a delightful manner. I am perplexed.”

So are we Mr Melordy, so are we!

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Oily

Several years ago I followed your fabulous diet book, “Masturbate Yourself Thin”, lost three stone and could crack walnuts with my right hand. Sadly I tugged with such ferocity that my foreskin is now over three feet long and when I am in the shower my love missile looks kinda…..weird. Do you have any tips for reeling it in. Or is surgery the only way?

Bellend Tom, Belenses

Hi Bellend,

My we have quite a few wankers contacting me this week! Fine by me!

Could you contact my secretary Salacious Sadie? We have just the part for you. It’s an updated/skewered/perverted version of the Elephant Man and tells the story of the many scraps and bedroom farces old Merrick might have got into with various buxom wenches if he had been a bit less depressive, more outgoing and could run fast like Benny Hill.

Oily

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new oilyHello Oily

I recently saw you at the French Polishers having your tan topped up. I must say I was impressed with the lengths you go to perma tan yourself and may I say your buttocks are an exemplar for a man of your age. My question is would you ever varnish your penis? And if so what lacquer treatment would you recommend?

Stiff Ben, Wendover

Oily Replies;

Hey Stiffie!

Good to hear from you, its been a while. One of Hefner’s party’s if I recall? Was the hospital able to remove the gerbil?

Having a right beast of a penis I enjoy polishing it alot. Sometimes I apply the polish myself though I am a great believer in the old adage ‘many hands make light work; especially when you have an unfeasibly large one’.

I tend to apply to my appendage whatever is lying about the house though this has proved painful in the past when not wearing my reading glasses. There are household cleaning fluids most definitely not meant for application to one’s extremities. But hey ho no pain no gain as dear old Granny Oily used to say.

Oily

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