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Friday, April 24, 2015

Slow Sex

Jonathon the Tortoise


I recently read about a tortoise who’s 183 years old and still manages to have sex with three different female turtles a day. That seems excessive to me; even if he was still a twenty-three year old stud it's unfeasible.

Plus, I don’t know why those three female tortoises agree to it in the first place.

Have they not heard the saying, “Why buy the tortoise when you can get the milk for free”?

His name is Jonathon (that’d be right, Jonathon sounds like a bit of a randy name) and according to the website he witnessed “the coronation of eight British monarchs from George IV to Elizabeth II and a staggering 50 prime ministers”.

I’m sorry, but I think if he’s bonking three different girls a day he wouldn’t give a shit about monarchs of England, especially considering he lives in a zoo and is a tortoise.

I mean… what are the female tortoises even getting out of it? 

Not that we girls should view sex as something to be utilised as a manipulative strategy to ‘get’ things; things like a diamond ring, lifetime security, a cup of coffee delivered in bed in the morning, a night off from having to be the one to turn the lights out downstairs …

No. If we’re going to be using sex as a manipulative tactic we should aim for far loftier goals. And the secret is in the promise of amorous entanglement, girls. We don’t even need to actually engage in the sweaty, nasty, annoying reality of it all, if we play our cards right.

Just a wink and an oblique, suggestive nudge should do the trick.

Don’t be exploitive about it though girls. Use it solely for urgent, desperate times, like, when you don’t feel like going to the shop because you forgot to buy dog food. Or when it’s six o’clock on a Friday afternoon and you notice the wine’s run out.

But back to those female tortoises; I wonder if they compare Jonathon’s performance amongst themselves? Imagine the stress he must be under, knowing they all live in the same compound and talk about him behind his back, comparing notes probably.

There are two other male tortoises where he lives. One is called Speedy, which is completely unfunny because it’s like the complete opposite of what he must be, and the other male has the dull but strangely ironic name of ‘David’.

Jonathon has cataracts and can hardly see so maybe he thinks he’s bonking the same girl every day. But even so, three times is a lot, even if he’s in love with the tortoise he thinks he’s canoodling with, although in reality it’s three different tortoises.

All I can say is, I’m glad I’m not a female tortoise if the men are still that keen at 183 years of age.

And imagine how long he must take to get through the entire act.

You’d be able to watch the entire third series of Game of Thrones just waiting for him to get in the mood and the fourth series before he’s got to first base. He’d be so bloody slow. There are only so many shopping lists you can make in your head. The female tortoises couldn’t just lay on their back and think of England either because… well you know what happens to tortoises when they wind up on their back.

Jonathon lives on salad apparently. But I’ve been existing on salad for the last three decades and it doesn’t have that same erotic effect on me.

I guess Aesop was right. Slow and steady really does win the race.

But honestly, Jonathon needs to hang up his tools and get a hobby, like golf or Twitter.

Do you think 183 years old is too old to be still doing it?