From phone box to phone box across London...

I had a rather thrilling time last week, when a male friend and I went from phone box to phone box in SW7 ripping down the porn and binning it. Simple strategy; my tall, dark friend gave me ‘cover’ while I nipped into the phone box tore down the porn postcards (who says long nails aren’t useful?) and binned them. We were as giddy as kids released from school.

In my neck of West London, there are telephone boxes lined with lusty lacy pics of girls advertising themselves. Each time I go past them, I think, thank God I don’t have a child of my own who would see these porno postcards in the phone-box just by walking down the street outside our house. So, much as I Love living near Hyde Park and the Oratory, I don’t think I’ll be raising kids here.

And I’m still waiting for Boris Johnson (who I find endearing) to honour his promise to stop the posting of porn and prostitute adverts, and bring ‘those’ who put up the postcards to justice

If Boris doesn’t, would we be within our rights to ask Boris how he would feel if he were passing a phone box (like the VILE box near Harrods) and if he saw one of his female relatives on a postcard? This sounds preposterous, and not a little fantastical. But then to return to the point of the previous post; every 'sex worker' is someone's relative. You may doubt that all Boris’ buffoonery could help him laugh his way out of that one.


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