Pitchfork-wielding outrage in the outer-suburbs

Admittedly it doesn’t happen very often, but very occasionally, while trolling through the paperwork at Saving the World HQ, I come across the odd policy document containing phrases or words which bring a cheeky smile to ol’ Donkey’s lips.

It’s a bit naughty of me, really, but when I occasionally find one of these which stir the ever-smouldering embers in my belly into a lick of flame, causing me to snort mirthfully and break the otherwise crypt-like atmosphere of the office, I feel it’s important to share it with you all out there in Blogdom.

So, the one that got me chuckling away this morning, was in an otherwise stuffy policy document. It read,

“As we know, India is one of the greatest sex markets in the world“.

What? Is it? I didn’t know that! I thought the greatest sex market in the world was SexyLAND. For the uninitiated, SexyLAND is a recent, super-barn-like phenomenon to have sprung-up next to the Bunnings Warehouses, Super-cheap Autobarns, Bathroom Tiles Megamarts and Doors Galores which sprawl across Melbourne’s outer suburban landscape like a cancer.

Since it floated on the Australian Stock Exchange a couple of years ago, this franchise has opened-up in ten massive, convenient locations, each with free and extensive parking and a concealed back door, but instead of marketing hammers, spades, timber, bathroom fittings, paint, barbecues, white goods or doors, like its neighbours, SexyLAND boasts the world’s largest, biggest, longest, hardest, bounciest, stretchiest, fluffiest, shiniest, slipperiest and most comprehensive collection of adult entertainment products, DVDs, publications and other assorted objects which could never possibly be used by human beings … in the World!

Although I’ve never actually had the guts to step foot into one of these Colosseums to Consumerist Depravity, I still believed the advertising … until this morning. It seems the shareholders and management of SexyLAND have hoodwinked us, and all those sexually enlightened suburban men, women and couples (or so the advertising would have us believe) who thought they were selecting from the largest range in the World, would have done better to have turned their salivating leers in the direction of the sub-continent, where it appears the Kama Sutra is taking its rightful place (nestled snugly between nuclear arms and child labour) on India’s international economic juggernaut.

The changing landscape of the outer suburbs