I thought this might be a good time to broach the subject of obscene phone calls, being as I have received several of this ilk myself over the past few weeks, the majority of which were, unsurprisingly, anonymous. As for the ones I keep receiving that relate to oral abuse, I am asking you now, Uncle Len, pack it in before I tell your new girlfriend what you’ve been up to. I know you’ve recently got a job as a Merchandiser with Colgate, but neither snowballing with toothpaste or flossing with pubic hair does not promote dental hygiene, I don’t care what you say.
Works on cats too!
Actually, whilst I remember, if you get any more of those Sensitive Pro-Relief samples, my stocks are almost non-existent; and by the way, that last lot you sent tasted a bit weird, and they hadn’t been sealed properly. I ended up using the last two tubes on the cat’s eczema.
Returning to the topic at hand, I took the liberty of recording one of the obscene calls from someone who calls himself ‘Dave’, and transcribed it so as to give you an idea of what we are dealing with. This is how it went…
Returning to the topic at hand, I took the liberty of recording one of the obscene calls from someone who calls himself ‘Dave’, and transcribed it so as to give you an idea of what we are dealing with. This is how it went…
GRANNY D: Ahoy-hoy; Granny D speaking.
DAVE: (Heavy breathing)
GRANNY D: Oh, dear! Here we go again! I’m guessing that this is either Usain Bolt phoning to say that you’ve just broke another world record, or disgusting Dave taking advantage of your free pay-as-you-go minutes; either way I have a feeling it’s going to be a conversation involving sweaty groins and tightly-packed Lycra pants.
DAVE: (Welsh accent) It’s me… Dave.
GRANNY D: You don’t say. Let’s hope you can cum in 9.58 seconds so I can get back to my box set of Ugly Betty. Hey, I don’t suppose you look anything like Eric Mabius, by any chance?
DAVE: I don’t know. Does he look anything like David Cameron because, to be perfectly honest with you, that’s who I’m told I look like. In fact, I once went to a Conservative Party conference and two people actually asked for my autograph; that’s why I chose the name ‘Dave’ as my pseudonym. It’s not my real name.
GRANNY D: So what IS your real name?
DAVE: It’s… (tone of voice deepening) It’s Ewan.
GRANNY D: It’s not Ewan, either, is it?
DAVE: No; but if I told you what my real name was, the Police would be able to track me down and prosecute. I could even lose my job at Greggs, and to be perfectly honest with you, jobs in Cwmbran are particularly scarce at this time of year. So I’m not as stupid as I look, see.
GRANNY D: Ok, Dave, or whatever your name is, can we get on with it? I’m sort of intrigued as to how you’re going to follow last night’s revelations. Tell me, that Jammy Dodger, did you actually dunk it where you said you were going to dunk it?
DAVE: Of course I did. I don’t just talk the talk, I walk the walk.
GRANNY D: I’m surprised you can walk at all with one of those wedged up your Rhondda Valley. What’s it going to be tonight; a custard cream? a mini Babybel? a fruit shoot? If you go on at this rate, you could have your own little Co-op up there. You could even tattoo their slogan on your arse… “Good with food”.
DAVE: Do you mind? I’m paying for this call. I would at least like to get the odd word in.
GRANNY D: Sorry, my mind tends to race when I’ve had a glass or two of red wine.
DAVE: So what are you wearing?
GRANNY D: Oh, come on, we did this last night! Be a bit more original, for goodness’ sake.
DAVE: What do you mean? Like what?
GRANNY D: I don’t know… ask me what my views on anal insertions are, or if I’ve ever used a gear stick to masturbate with.
DAVE: And have you?
GRANNY D: Go get stuffed! Ask me one of your own questions, dimwit. I’m not doing all the bloody work for you.
DAVE: Alright… have you ever tried outdoor sex?
GRANNY D: Oh, for f**k’s sake, use your imagination! Everyone’s had it outside at one time or another. I can’t recall a single occasion when I went round the back of Sherbet’s Nightclub for a slash and didn’t trip over someone getting dipped. Look, when I picked up the phone, I was fully expecting to be confronted by a depraved individual looking to defile me with his sordid suggestions of degradation and vile cravings. David, luvvie, you should be asking me things that are likely to disgust me; things that will make me feel repulsed and insecure.
DAVE: Like what?!
GRANNY D: Like bestiality. We’ve been chatting now for nearly ten minutes and you haven’t once asked me if I’ve ever had dog sex. You might want to know if I’ve ever considered experimenting with scat, or maybe combining the two.
DAVE: I’m going to be sick.
GRANNY D: Good, at least it’s a start.
DAVE: No, seriously, I AM going to be sick! You don’t actually do those kinds of things, do you?
GRANNY D: Well you won’t find out unless you ask.
Sound of vomiting
Sound of phone hanging up
GRANNY D: Hello? Dave, are you still there?
CALL ENDED
DAVE: (Heavy breathing)
GRANNY D: Oh, dear! Here we go again! I’m guessing that this is either Usain Bolt phoning to say that you’ve just broke another world record, or disgusting Dave taking advantage of your free pay-as-you-go minutes; either way I have a feeling it’s going to be a conversation involving sweaty groins and tightly-packed Lycra pants.
DAVE: (Welsh accent) It’s me… Dave.
GRANNY D: You don’t say. Let’s hope you can cum in 9.58 seconds so I can get back to my box set of Ugly Betty. Hey, I don’t suppose you look anything like Eric Mabius, by any chance?
DAVE: I don’t know. Does he look anything like David Cameron because, to be perfectly honest with you, that’s who I’m told I look like. In fact, I once went to a Conservative Party conference and two people actually asked for my autograph; that’s why I chose the name ‘Dave’ as my pseudonym. It’s not my real name.
GRANNY D: So what IS your real name?
DAVE: It’s… (tone of voice deepening) It’s Ewan.
GRANNY D: It’s not Ewan, either, is it?
DAVE: No; but if I told you what my real name was, the Police would be able to track me down and prosecute. I could even lose my job at Greggs, and to be perfectly honest with you, jobs in Cwmbran are particularly scarce at this time of year. So I’m not as stupid as I look, see.
GRANNY D: Ok, Dave, or whatever your name is, can we get on with it? I’m sort of intrigued as to how you’re going to follow last night’s revelations. Tell me, that Jammy Dodger, did you actually dunk it where you said you were going to dunk it?
DAVE: Of course I did. I don’t just talk the talk, I walk the walk.
GRANNY D: I’m surprised you can walk at all with one of those wedged up your Rhondda Valley. What’s it going to be tonight; a custard cream? a mini Babybel? a fruit shoot? If you go on at this rate, you could have your own little Co-op up there. You could even tattoo their slogan on your arse… “Good with food”.
DAVE: Do you mind? I’m paying for this call. I would at least like to get the odd word in.
GRANNY D: Sorry, my mind tends to race when I’ve had a glass or two of red wine.
DAVE: So what are you wearing?
GRANNY D: Oh, come on, we did this last night! Be a bit more original, for goodness’ sake.
DAVE: What do you mean? Like what?
GRANNY D: I don’t know… ask me what my views on anal insertions are, or if I’ve ever used a gear stick to masturbate with.
DAVE: And have you?
GRANNY D: Go get stuffed! Ask me one of your own questions, dimwit. I’m not doing all the bloody work for you.
DAVE: Alright… have you ever tried outdoor sex?
GRANNY D: Oh, for f**k’s sake, use your imagination! Everyone’s had it outside at one time or another. I can’t recall a single occasion when I went round the back of Sherbet’s Nightclub for a slash and didn’t trip over someone getting dipped. Look, when I picked up the phone, I was fully expecting to be confronted by a depraved individual looking to defile me with his sordid suggestions of degradation and vile cravings. David, luvvie, you should be asking me things that are likely to disgust me; things that will make me feel repulsed and insecure.
DAVE: Like what?!
GRANNY D: Like bestiality. We’ve been chatting now for nearly ten minutes and you haven’t once asked me if I’ve ever had dog sex. You might want to know if I’ve ever considered experimenting with scat, or maybe combining the two.
DAVE: I’m going to be sick.
GRANNY D: Good, at least it’s a start.
DAVE: No, seriously, I AM going to be sick! You don’t actually do those kinds of things, do you?
GRANNY D: Well you won’t find out unless you ask.
Sound of vomiting
Sound of phone hanging up
GRANNY D: Hello? Dave, are you still there?
CALL ENDED
'Dave' takes a break from work to enjoy a cheese and ham pasty
Obscene callers are often thought of as emotionally or behaviorally maladjusted individuals that have shown previous signs of sexual abuse, as well as having already committed sexual abuse. They are often male, feel inadequate, have feelings of isolation, have trouble forming relationships and consider making obscene phone calls to be the only way that they can sexually express themselves.
Dave seemed to tick most of the boxes. However, in my professional opinion, he may just have had a small dick, who knows? The fact remains, he was a huge disappointment. So, if you’re out there, Dave, please do get back in contact and I can talk you through the basics. You have my number.
Ciao
Granny D
Dave seemed to tick most of the boxes. However, in my professional opinion, he may just have had a small dick, who knows? The fact remains, he was a huge disappointment. So, if you’re out there, Dave, please do get back in contact and I can talk you through the basics. You have my number.
Ciao
Granny D
Who's next? Dave refused to serve these customers due to their working-class status
.
