I'm supposed to be working but some nights you just can't get into it.
Anyhoo. In the modern world of witchdoctor-science you can get funding for anything that matches The Agenda even if your results have more hard centres than my plum tree.
Yes, my plums are vast and full of juices. Look on my plums, ye wenches, and despair, for I am Ozyplumdias, King of Plums, and possibly slightly pissed.
Even the study of women who are unsatisfied with their USB port and wish it converted to USB 2 draws funding as long as it blames something the Puritans want banned. Look, wenches, I have never met one of you where I have had cause to complain about your loading bay. I have met a few who have complained about what I'm loading. Hey, I'm just the delivery boy. Complain to the manufacturer.
What is this female genital mutilation all about? I thought women weren't keen on it and here they are demanding it on the NHS. What are they having done? Shaving it into Groucho Marx eyebrows? Try not to picture that with a cigar. Oops, too late. Having it made less wrinkly than Gordon Brown's face? Ladies, that face has been called the same name as your lower bits for so long that most of us men expect to see him there. We look forward to hearing someone else getting the blame.
If porn was the cause of genital surgery, every man on the planet would be looking to have the end threaded so he could attach an extension. Those films might look raunchy to females but to men they look like fireman training films. We normal blokes can't compete. If those things were real, when they filled with blood the man would pass out.
Look, wenches, if you want to attract someone with that kind of equipment, forget surgery and learn to speak horse. There are very few of those freaks out there and they all work in porn films. With women who also work for Defence as aircraft carrier dry docks.
This fanny-fiddling does not trouble me in terms of 'cost to the NHS' because the drones already believe I've bankrupted it anyway, even though the NHS don't know who I am. It troubles me because it's silly and not in a funny way. Elective surgery is not something to be taken lightly and fiddling with your reproductive bits can leave you childless or worse. Worse? Yes, someone gave birth to Jonathan Ross, remember. Do you want to be that woman? Well, do you? Fiddle with your bits and the next one might be you. And you thought the hairy palms tale was scary.
Circumcision is, to me, ridiculous. It's like God says "I made you perfect except for that bit. That's a bit of moulding flash, just trim it off. Then you're right. You'll understand when Airfix is on the go, that's my message to you. Trim the flash and it's just right. You'll see."
So Airfix was a message from God. Deny it if you can.
Female chopping of the bits is far worse. Even if there's a whole wizard's sleeve thing going on, there is no benefit in slicing and dicing those components. We can say what we like about porn stars but real life is not like that. Not for me anyway. Not for most people, I hope, because that would make me the only one not getting wild sex with every passing stranger (if that's true, don't tell me).
I have to wonder what a 'designer vagina' is, though. can you get the 'Cherie' that looks like a post box or maybe the 'Jean-Paul Gautier' that is indistiguishable from your arse? The Vivienne Westwood... no, I am nowhere near drunk enough to envisage that.
Women, realise this. We men are simple creatures. We don't care if you dye it purple and give it a Joker smile. We don't care if you make it look like Kate Bush or Alfred Hitchcock. We don't care too much if it's a fairly randy goat or a bag of sand with a hole in it so worrying about what your lower receptacle looks like is futile. No man cares unless he's gay and then the only thing you'll get is a critique.
You women who worry about whether you should get it strimmed to bowling-green standard or leave it as three acres of brambles. You women who want the wizard's sleeve retailored into a Mod cuff, know this.
Men don't actually know the difference and don't care to. Really, we don't. If you are hurting during an intimate encounter because of some surgery you didn't need, most of us will notice and it will result in a visit from the Floppy Fairy. Neither of us want that.
Do. Not. Cut. Yourselves.
There is really no need. We left that tribal fanny-chopping behind a very long time ago, and neither gender wants it to come back.
Especially not on the NHS.