Getting your own back

Loaded Magazine - 1995

Mess around with other women, sunshine, and your bollock off with a claw hammer

'Hell hath no fury I like a woman scorned.' I wonder how many men grow pale and tremble whenever they hear that cliche? It's true though. Which would you rather do: crawl through a sewer on broken glass in a force 1 2 hurricane or go back to the little woman when you know she's just found out that her darling scrumptious fluffikins boo boo has been playing away from home? Well, don't come running to me with your cock in your hand looking for sympathy, cos you probably deserved it you bastard.
All right, so I wouldn't go as far as Lorena Bobbitt, but I have to admit I joined the millions of other women round the world who were laughing up their sleeves when Mrs B got off after pleading temporary insanity. After seeing the prick she was married to (neither of them seemed up to much) I'd say she did him a favour. Following salvage and micro-surgery (the surgeon's needle was rumoured to be bigger than the severed appendage), John Wayne Nobody became the most notorious philanderer since Casanova, proceeding to make a small packet from his newly restored small packet - reportedly his dire porn flick grossed him close

was he to trade in on his new-found fame that the 'film' was made before he'd healed, so it was "lights! camera! not much action!" -the story of the Bobbins' marriage, I suspect.
For the rest of us, something good came from this typically tacky American Greek tragedy: a new phrase, 'to do a Bobbitt'. Thanks Lorena, you mad cow.
Revenge is the name of the game, and between couples it is usually the result of one or the other having a bit of the other and not having the brains to cover their tracks. But talking of brains, more often than not it's the male who does the straying, and we all know where his brains are at that particular time, don't we? I've heard the same pathetic mantra countless times: "I can't understand why she got so upset, it was only sex, it's not as if it mattered". And that’s why men and women are so different. Women find it very difficult to separate sex from love whereas for men a one-night stand is often akin to being serviced by a human spunk bucket. But try explaining that to your girlfriend/wife etc (give me a call first. I'd love to be a fly on the wall). It's a rare woman who can accept it and if you have one who can she should be cherished and treated with respect. However, if you're still determined to dip your wick in another pot of ink remember that old villains' adage, 'if you can't do the time, don't do the crime'.
Though I am in favour of retribution (girls: do your sisterly duty or you'll be handing a serial cheat on to the next poor sucker, unless being a poor sucker is the reason for his wanderlust in the first place), it's not a course I've taken, thus no man has ever been dealt with. The House of Commons call-girl Pameila Bordes and Arena editor Kathryn Flett, who both (strangely) employed the same method on their then 'special' friends, who were (stranger still) ex-Sunday Times editor Andrew Neil and ex-Arena editor Dylan Jones. The girls were so cut up that, being bright, they chose to translate their anguish literally, and cut the crotches out of their men's precious wardrobes of Paul Smith suits. A fate worse than death for two blokes who really fancy themselves as arbiters of sartorial taste.
When I quizzed my female acquaintances for advice on revenge, one suggestion kept cropping up: always go for the thing they love. That's what La Bobbitt went for as did the wife of a friend of a friend. She waited for her adulterous husband with a claw hammer and relieved him of a testicle. In spite of now being mono-bollocked, he hasn't left her, saying, 'I deserved it and I still love her.''
The girls were a great source for helpful hints on how to get your own back. We're not talking Mickey Mouse stuff like pints of beer poured over heads here either. Let's get serious: how about nipping down to "any pub on the Old Kent Read, though they don't do killing, only maiming"? Shame. "I was going to hire this bloke to break an arm and a leg. it was only £35." Bargain.
Those polled had much to offer in the way of hi-tech revenge too. Get your computer to send black paper direct to his fax, keep it running as long as you can and it'll blow up his machine. Or do it over the Internet. Get all your friends to mail bomb him, bombarding his computer with messages. It fills up his time and overloads the system and if you're lucky, you can blow up his computer too. (Apparently, there's a Book Of Revenge on the Internet, but I can't imagine any of those nerds having a relationship with anything apart from their PCs so who's going to use the book?) Other wheezes include sending them "as requested" dirty mags if they have a secretary who opens their post, or informing the Child Support Agency about your love-child, real or not. What you have to remember, say the girls, is to "embarrass them at work or in public and humiliate them in front of their peers".
Still got lead in your pencils, lads? Still contemplating a sly bit of extra how's-your-father? Boys? Boys?