[Philip Quinlan]

Do any other of the males on this board receive what I shall call "Natasha Emails"?

A Natasha email is an email (purporting at least to be) from a nubile 27 year old Russian girl who is desperate to find an English (or American, Australian) mate. There is a shortage of Russian men apparently - sober ones anyway.

The language of them is fascinating and I think there is an amusement, if not a drill, in there somewhere. What if the the hapless 51 year old romantic, driven by flattery, responds in like manner?

Some samples from a recent missive:

"At first I wish to be present" [Tr. Let me introduce/describe myself to you]
"I want to have the relation" [Poss Tr. I wish to engage in incest?]
"they gave me yours e-mail the address and spoke that you search yourself the woman" [Tr. Apparently you do not have a bodyguard to do this for you]
"would you like to begin dialogue and relations with me" [Tr. Or we could talk afterwards if you'd prefer]
"It is possible I ask you very fragile person" [ Tr. God alone knows...]

How about it chaps?

Philip

[John Whitworth]

Since I have so far notably failed to come up with a Darwinian Limerick (though the rest of you have done awfully well, I must say, I think I ought to have a go at this. Meanwhile, Here's a Robert Conquest masterpiece on the Darwinian theme - well almost.

At the Zoo

There was plenty of good-natured chaff
When I called in to fuck the giraffe
And the P.R.Z.S.
Could scarcely suppress
A dry, professorial laugh.

The PRZS is the President of the Royal Zoological Society, There is another one about rogerinhg the gnu, but I can't remember it at present.

[Philip Quinlan]

Boobed and double posted

[Philip Quinlan]

John

My Natasha sonnet:

I feel that I have groped you all my life;
now you have come, my ecstasy completes.
Let us, my fragile one, commence relations,
and save the dialogue for later on.

The Russian men are short, or so it seems;
I, on the other hand, are very large.
Allow me to present you my credentials;
here is my data for your eyes to feast upon.

My photo tells it how I look in life;
much maturation has occurred, you will observe.
I part my hair behind, dare not eat peach:
it is the teeth of me unfortunately gone.

I am the terminal relation that you seek.
I hope that you will come again, then speak.

TA-DA!

Philip