While suffering a severe bout of man ‘flu this week I took a visit to the local GP to procure some pharmaceuticals that would stem the onset of death. The visit was enlightening since, in the waiting room, lay a pile of womens magazines jammed full of interesting information. To pass the time as I waited for my appointment I leafed through a couple, turning inevitably/immediately to the problem pages. In one publication there was an arresting question concerning the male G-spot so, as a way of imparting some helpful consumer advice for you I have decided to re-publish both the question and the answer concerning this very issue. I have ever-so-slightly paraphrased the response and, in a bid to head off any copyright issues I have cleverly disguised the name of the publication so you have absolutely no idea which one it is.
Does the male G-spot exist, and if it does, where can I find it?
P. Belter, Hull
Irritatingly, the man’s G-spot is, well… up your arse, so for all you thrill-seekers out there Smelly Finger is the inevitable result. If you are a lone-gunman then there’s going to be a bit of waggling needed to locate this particular pleasure zone but be careful to make sure that you have released all the contents of the bomb bay first.
If you have taken the trouble to take a dump prior to your search you might need some Swarfega to make the whole experience less finger-up-your-arse uncomfortable. If you do find the spot and find yourself howling at the moon do your best to remember exactly where it was – it’ll make repeat visits much more tolerable.
If you invite a loved one to have a bit of a shuftie around the old rusty bullet-hole, again, do make sure the tunnel is more Metropolitan Line than Bakerloo.
There is, of course, a slim chance that, like the Woman’s G-spot, this is a myth and that the tradesman’s entrance is merely a place for you to release excess luggage, but we hope not, because it keeps us all in business.
I hope that helps. And, as way of extending my research while the nurse was taking my blood pressure I did ask her, if she was not too busy, would she mind, well, having a quick shuftie round the um, well, y’know…
She said no.