A man holding his cock

From Drummer Dick’s Discharge to Shag: The Story of a Dog, there are plenty of contenders from literary history for the Guardian award for smuttiest book title.

The Wankh Award is named in honour of that classic of science-fiction, Jack Vance’s Servants of the Wankh (1969).

The best book of this type that I’ve come across is Penetrating Wagner’s Ring and I keep a well-thumbed copy in my bathroom. Indeed, I will have to replace it because so many of the pages are stuck together.

I am reminded of poor old Robert Browning’s lines in Pippa Passes:

But at night, brother Howlet, far over the woods,
Toll the world to thy chantry;
Sing to the bats’ sleek sisterhoods
Full complines with gallantry:
Then, owls and bats, cowls and twats,
Monks and nuns, in a cloister’s moods,
Adjourn to the oak-stump pantry!

Browning was under the misapprehension that “twat” was part of a nun’s habit.

I am further reminded of the occasion when my young friend Melissa walked into a bar in Manchester and ordered a double entendre. So the barman gave her one.

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