Autassassinophilia
(Letter received mid-August 2012)
Dear Granny D
As strange as it may sound, I get aroused by being in life-threatening situations. I’m not even sure if it’s normal or not. All I do know is that I get the urge to place myself in mortal danger more and more frequently these days, and it usually ends up with me covering myself in albino custard. Of course, there is usually a moment or two during the act where I realise how much danger I’m actually in but, by then, I’m only a short bus-ride from Utopia, so to speak. Do you think I need to see a shrink, or what?!
(Reply sent end of August 2012)
Dear Derek
Unfortunately, you haven’t described the kind of situations that bring on these moments of pleasure. Are we talking bungee-jumping or going to a parents evening dressed as Jimmy Savile? Try and elaborate, Sweetie.
(Letter received mid-December 2012)
Dear Granny D
Sorry I haven’t been in touch for a while. I have been laid up in hospital after almost suffocating to death during one of my ‘moments of self-gratification’. After reading about the former MP for Eastleigh, Stephen Milligan, I thought I’d give asphyxiophilia a bash. So I dug out a bit of old guy-rope from my boy scouting days, a Satsuma that was lying in the bottom of the fridge, and a Morrison’s carrier bag. Although I wasn’t entirely sure what purpose the Satsuma filled, I stuck it in my mouth anyway on the reasoning that, should I get stuck for any length of time, at least I wouldn’t starve to death. Unfortunately, I had overlooked the fact that a lack of oxygen might also cause the odd problem. Luckily for me, my next door neighbor, Irish Jim, came round to borrow my hammer drill and found my bound, semi-naked body lying prostrate on the kitchen floor. After a lengthy period in hospital being treated for post-traumatic stress, Jim is now on the way to making a full recovery. Just in case you were wondering, there was certainly no cock vomit on this occasion.
(Reply sent Mid-December 2012)
Dear Derek
Quite simply, you are an adrenaline junkie with a twist. Jack Osbourne was exactly the same, though I don’t think he offloaded his Jiffy Pop whilst running with the bulls in Pamplona, at least not on camera anyway. Whilst you might expect me to advise you to stop risking your neck for the sole purpose of letting off steam, I’m not going to do that. Why? There’s an old proverb that’s goes something along the lines of, ‘It is better to have lived one day as a tiger than a thousand years as a sheep.’ You, Derek, are THAT tiger, and don’t you forget it! Now go out and show the world your masculinity (not literally, of course), but I won’t rest until I feel assured that your sack is as empty as Santa’s on Boxing Day.
All the best
Granny D
Derek Arthur Lonsdale - 16th June 1988 to 22nd December 2012 – Taken from us whilst playing chicken with the 11.00 Santa Special from Leeming Bar to Redmire. Laid to rest in Leeming Bar, Bedale, Finghall & Leyburn.
(Letter received mid-August 2012)
Dear Granny D
As strange as it may sound, I get aroused by being in life-threatening situations. I’m not even sure if it’s normal or not. All I do know is that I get the urge to place myself in mortal danger more and more frequently these days, and it usually ends up with me covering myself in albino custard. Of course, there is usually a moment or two during the act where I realise how much danger I’m actually in but, by then, I’m only a short bus-ride from Utopia, so to speak. Do you think I need to see a shrink, or what?!
(Reply sent end of August 2012)
Dear Derek
Unfortunately, you haven’t described the kind of situations that bring on these moments of pleasure. Are we talking bungee-jumping or going to a parents evening dressed as Jimmy Savile? Try and elaborate, Sweetie.
(Letter received mid-December 2012)
Dear Granny D
Sorry I haven’t been in touch for a while. I have been laid up in hospital after almost suffocating to death during one of my ‘moments of self-gratification’. After reading about the former MP for Eastleigh, Stephen Milligan, I thought I’d give asphyxiophilia a bash. So I dug out a bit of old guy-rope from my boy scouting days, a Satsuma that was lying in the bottom of the fridge, and a Morrison’s carrier bag. Although I wasn’t entirely sure what purpose the Satsuma filled, I stuck it in my mouth anyway on the reasoning that, should I get stuck for any length of time, at least I wouldn’t starve to death. Unfortunately, I had overlooked the fact that a lack of oxygen might also cause the odd problem. Luckily for me, my next door neighbor, Irish Jim, came round to borrow my hammer drill and found my bound, semi-naked body lying prostrate on the kitchen floor. After a lengthy period in hospital being treated for post-traumatic stress, Jim is now on the way to making a full recovery. Just in case you were wondering, there was certainly no cock vomit on this occasion.
(Reply sent Mid-December 2012)
Dear Derek
Quite simply, you are an adrenaline junkie with a twist. Jack Osbourne was exactly the same, though I don’t think he offloaded his Jiffy Pop whilst running with the bulls in Pamplona, at least not on camera anyway. Whilst you might expect me to advise you to stop risking your neck for the sole purpose of letting off steam, I’m not going to do that. Why? There’s an old proverb that’s goes something along the lines of, ‘It is better to have lived one day as a tiger than a thousand years as a sheep.’ You, Derek, are THAT tiger, and don’t you forget it! Now go out and show the world your masculinity (not literally, of course), but I won’t rest until I feel assured that your sack is as empty as Santa’s on Boxing Day.
All the best
Granny D
Derek Arthur Lonsdale - 16th June 1988 to 22nd December 2012 – Taken from us whilst playing chicken with the 11.00 Santa Special from Leeming Bar to Redmire. Laid to rest in Leeming Bar, Bedale, Finghall & Leyburn.
