The Saga of the Clap Clinic

There are lots of reports these days that old people are foregoing knitting in favour of a good hard unprotected rut with other similary saggy skinned biddies. (well, unless you are Ronnie Wood)

When I was at the Clap Clinic today (there ain't no shame, regardless of how you may feel when asked to describe your discharge and you turn into a twittering idiot who goes 'ohmywellisupposeitsabitlikeummmmohwelltheotherweekarentwehavinglovelyweatherthesedays?' much to the chagrin of the long suffering doctor) the only reading material in the waiting room was a copy of SAGA magazine. From December 2007.

And a fascinating read it was too!

But yeah, this would suggest that the oldies do grace Clap Clinics with their presence, although possibly they are so engrossed in readers' photos of snowmen from years gone by (my favourite: This is the snowman we built outside Hounslow Police Station in 1978. Back when we could see to the prisoners how we liked without letting the 'PC brigade' get involved. Pardon the pun!) that they don't hear the doctors call them in, and after a satisfying read, toddle on home again, still riddled with STD 's and without their free bag of condoms and lube.

Incidentally, I do now feel compelled to tell you all, dear readers, that I do not have any diseases, but I did accidentally pee on my hand while taking a urine sample, so I would still give me a wide berth.