Tag Archives: party

No Ifs, Ands or Butts 2

Cordially Invited asks:peeping_tom

Dear Dr Cragglehold,
What are ifs & ands?
I’ve received an invitation that says “no ifs, ands, or butts.”
What am I supposed to wear?
Thanks, 
Cordially invited.

Dear Cordialia,

I know what you’re trying to do here; by intentionally misspelling the word ‘but’ as ‘butt’ you’re baiting me into writing about your backside.  I’ll avoid speculating as to whether your motivation is simply an interest in harmless amusement or a hurtful attempt to portray me as a witless ass and simply state that, although I would quite enjoy describing the subtle curves and bounce of your caboose, such wordplay would be better served through a more poetic medium than this prose affords.

Let’s cut to the heart of the issue, shall we?

What the host of the event in question meant to say with their dimwitted old chestnut was that no excuses for your absence at their event will be tolerated, regardless of how valid said excuse may be.  Even if your leg was mauled to a pulp by a timber wolf and your blood is pulsing from your thigh in crimson jets but there’s no time to apply a tourniquet before the party you are expected to attend.  In fact, if you’ve just started to peak on a quadruple dose of some hallucinogenic like DMT and no one can convince you to stop stripping away your clothes and masturbating for strangers with a celery stalk sticking out of your butt you are still anxiously awaited at the soiree.  

If your car broke down and the only ride you can get is with the Eastern European gentleman that watches you change through his binoculars from the oak tree outside your bedroom window on the condition that he gets to rub your thigh on the ride there but you can’t tell anyone this time, you must still arrive on schedule.

So to answer your question, Cordiallia, you should wear nothing.  If the host complains – as they likely will – explain to them that if they have a problem with what you’re not wearing they can shut right up and suck your exposed butt.

Your Social Consultant,
Dr. Cragglehold, Ph.D.

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The Panty Remover

Clothed and Helpless asks:ymdTa

Dear Dr. Cragglehold,

I heard from a friend of a friend that gin is the panty-remover.  But then I poured it on some panties and they didn’t come off – instead I got smacked and screamed at and had to run away.

What am I doing wrong?

Sincerely,
Clothed and Helpless

Dear Clothed,

You have step one figured out – albeit rather clumsily – but you’ve forgotten the second part of the process.  You see, gin alone isn’t enough to remove such a lacy garment.  You need to provide a source of ignition such as a match or the glowing end of a cigar.

The reason gin is so effective at removing panties is that it burns with a dull blue flame.  Whereas gasoline or moonshine may ignite brightly and alert the wearer to the combustion process, the flame produced by gin is subdued enough that it can easily be mistaken for the glow of a black light on the frilly fabric in a dark nightclub.

You’ve got me thinking though, Clothed, about why gin is reputed to remove such a specific article of clothing.  Could the same process not be used to remove a parka, or a pair of moccasins?  What about bellbottoms?

To prepare for my experiment I once again called upon that most trustworthy of control groups – the college student looking for extra credit.  To my chagrin, however, the only volunteers that showed up to my lab were male, and those having been dared to do so by their peers.  Apparently my experiments have developed a reputation for being somewhat unorthodox.

I’d had Peabody fetch our supply of garments an hour beforehand, but had made the mistake of allowing him access to my supply of gin before he left.  It took some time to find him, but eventually I did.  He had unearthed a wealth of clothing in the form of a ‘lost and found’ box, into which he’d climbed, drunk, and promptly fallen unconscious.

Nevertheless, my subjects were stripped and fitted with panties, several of which were stained with one bodily fluid or another.  Peabody assured the complaining students that he’d correct the situation by sterilizing the garments, and immediately urinated on them.

At first I was upset with him, but after discovering he’d consumed our entire supply of gin I realized that his urine must doubtless be saturated with the combustible substance.  So I lit a match, touched the burning end briefly to each waistline, and found myself impressed at the speed with which the underwear disappeared.

Gin works quite efficiently to remove panties, I noted on my clear-plastic clipboard.  But what about other types of clothing?

Rich, the captain of the badminton team, was fitted with the retired costume of his team’s former mascot – Birdsley.  As the bulbous, beaked head was placed on top, completing the outfit, Peabody climbed onto a chair and soaked it down.

Upon ignition, however, the costume did not disappear in seconds as expected.  The yellow feathers burned long enough for the plastic frame beneath to catch fire, and soon a blackened, flaming Birdsley could be seen sprinting from my lab, into the gymnasium, finally becoming entangled in a badminton net.

There was a game in progress, and a quick-thinking water boy sprang into action, emptying a ten-gallon container of orange-drink over the heap of smouldering polymer athlete, effectively extinguishing the fire.

Fortunately, Peabody claimed responsibility for the whole fiasco, and spent the next three months in prison.  While there he was able to strike a deal with the Warden of the facility, granting us access to the prison population for future experiments.

All in all, this was a ‘win.’

Furthering the horizon of human knowledge,
Dr. Cragglehold, Ph.D.


Origin of the Turtleneck

My asks:

Dear Doc Cragglehold!

Why is it called a turtle neck?

Dearest My,

The name of the turtleneck sweater has it’s origins in the otherwise dull annals of the Swedish patent office.

You see, in 1871 the eccentrically brilliant tailor and turtle-lover Gerhard Thern took out a patent for this unique style of overwear.  And, as we all know, when somebody holds a patent to something they are endowed with the sole privilege of governing all aspects of it’s production.

As I’ve mentioned, Thern was a bit eccentric.  He’d taken to walking his turtles at night during the winter and so had developed the turtleneck to keep them from freezing.  As walking a turtle can take an extremely long time his activities and, consequently, the sweater were seen by a critical mass of the Swedish population.

It wasn’t long before they began approaching Thern on his walks and asking him for a sweater of their own.  Thern’s response was always negative, however.  In his words the sweater was ‘for only turtles’.

The ironic twist in his tale stems directly from Thern’s stubbornness.  You see, without developing the turtleneck for general human use Thern was unable to keep himself properly clad for these extremely long turtle walks.  It wasn’t long before he came down with pneumonia and died.

His body lay in the snow for some six hours before it was discovered.  The coroner was able to determine this figure as the turtles Thern was walking were almost ten feet away by the time he was turned up.

Celebrations erupted all over Sweden as Thern’s son expanded the patent to include a sweater large enough for a human being to wear.  The festivities continued through the next night as the Swedes were now able to keep warm enough to stay outside for lengthy periods.

As you’re from Sweden I’m surprised you didn’t learn all this in school!

Your fashionista,
Dr. Cragglehold, Ph.D.