So it turns out that good old Jimmy Savile may have allegedly had an eye for the under-aged.
Am I missing something here or is this not old news?
I’m sure that this was fairly common knowledge – like Gary Glitter being a bumlord and George Michael enjoying a turn or two on Hampstead Heath (although to be fair, that one did come as a shock to some – until you watch back the old Wham vids and go “Oh yeaah. now I see it!”
By all accounts security is to be ramped up around Jimmy’s graveside in Scarborough crem. This is something I’d pay good money to see. Public Enemy style S1W’s with Uzi’s, clad in black and flanking the graveside. By this I mean of course, a SBC drone in a Hi-Vis vest (Col Lester perhaps?) and a broom to fend off kids who want to deface his headstone.
http://www.thescarboroughnews.co.uk/news/local/picture-exclusive-savile-plaque-vandalised-1-4988667 (worth a look for the comments alone – a few Jim fans out there who apparently tell me it’s ok to feel up teenage girls if they are 14 or over – it doesn’t make you a ‘nonce’ – so I’m glad we’ve cleared that up!)
I’m in the neighbourhood at the weekend actually. I might take a stroll up to Woodlands for a nosey.
Makes you wonder if a certain oyster-eating ice cream magnate isn’t wishing he’d thought of some similar burial request? Like a 50p coin stuck to the path infront of his headstone so he could watch the young and the nubile bend down to pick it up. (Before any internet trolls decide to rail at me for this. I know that this practice went on, because everyone I know who ever worked for this man had the same thing happen to them.)
It wouldn’t be the first time my old homeland had turned a blind-eye to the sexual proclivities of it’s homegrown ‘heroes’. Though in fairness, from a town where the average age of a mother of 2 young children is around 17, it seems unfair to put the blame of it all squarely on the scrotums of the lecherous.
There’s a lot of it being put about!
I clung to my virginity until I was 18 years old (and not for the want of anyone trying let me tell you!) Frankly after such an achievement I still feel I should have been borne aloft through the streets and crowned in some kind of celebratory town festival. A bit like the ‘Hunger Games’ but where you have to fight off a crowd of horny young tattooed scrotes, vying to be the one to unceremoniously and unsatisfactorily pop your cherry in a bus shelter on the seafront or in the old Tesco loading bay.
Two’s-up on a Regal diddy and a swig of Pernod anyone?
Pics from google images