Every month in the mag, boudoir consultant Tanya Gold dishes out advice on whoring, whipping and weird female fantasies. We thought it was perfect for the web, so here are a few of Gold's past pearls of wisdom for your distraction.
Q I love my girlfriend very much but I have a profound desire to whip her. Does this mean I hate women?
A Probably. Most men hate women - and don't think we don't know it. All that beating and raping and unequal pay and genital mutilation and rude comments about Harriet Harman - they're clues. A tiny, little clue is when you say, "I love you," but what you really mean is, "I hate you and I want to rip off your head and ejaculate into the cavity. Darling. Then you can cook me dinner, except you can't because your head is only an absence now."
I was with a group of gravediggers last week. I was certain that, should the fragile scaffolding of civilization collapse, they would have eventually ripped off my head, out of boredom more than anything else, despite my dazzling ability to assemble a scaffolding-themed metaphor. What is a football but a woman's head, after all?
So the violent fantasies that men have towards women are the jungle we are ambling through, arm in arm. (Stop - you're hurting me! Please stop! Stop! Don't rip my arm off! But nothing on this planet - except poached fish - is as dull as that dullest of creatures, the passive-aggressive man. You see him everywhere, wandering around with his IQ of 125 and his dreary coping mechanisms, trying to keep a lid on the saucepan of his hate. Seethe. Breathe. Seethe. Breathe. (Pay Barclaycard bill.) So I actually commend your desire to make explicit your rage by actually thumping Woman with an implement designed for the purpose. Better a whipper than a sulker.
Love and hate, as it says in The Vikings, starring Tony Curtis and Kirk Douglas in an eye-patch, "Are two horns on the same goat." You are holding two conflicting ideas in your head at the same time. Congratulations. Do not forget to secure consent. Or my enemies will beat me with this column.
Q My girlfriend is obsessed with Kevin from Grand Designs. What should I do?
A I have a secret to tell you. Women all over the country are masturbating to the theme tune of Grand Designs, right this very moment. It is not funny Kevin and his funny ambivalence and his funny head that makes up stick our fingers down our pants like ants invading a chip shop.
It is the lovely houses. Sinks! Ah. Floorboards! Ah. Staircases! Ah! Do not worry. It is not Kevin she dreams of. It is the house. Buy her a house and re-enact Jane Eyre. Jane Eyre is a masturbatory fantasy about a big house. When Jane said, "Sir," she was actually talking to the sink.