We-All-Adora-Marmora

Hmmm interesting... funnily enough me and my current beau (I say "current" not because I am some commitment phobic foppish cad, but because it remains early days...) were asking ourselves the very same question after a delightful bout of slightly hung-over Sunday afternoon love making... and we concluded the following: The size of a ladies "whatsit" (and I'm not taking garish orange cheese snack...), matters just as much as the size of a fellas "ding-dong" (and I'm not talking big shiny bells, or may be I am... I digress, as usual.). Indeed we concluded, on this basis, we were a perfect match (Yes, I know, sure she tells all the boys) - due to (drum roll please)... the rare phenomenon that is "MBSS" or "Mutually Beneficial Sexual Sizing" as we have now rather pompously coined it (course we haven't... that would make us wankers...which, actually, we also are - mutual ones of course - I digress, as usual). And, as a fairly alluring thirty plus fella, I can confirm the crucial importance of MBSS. Over the years, I've frustratedly waved my wand in a Royal Albert Hall or two, barely touching the sides and, conversely using exactly the same appendage (thank god), I've squeezed my perfectly satisfactory party-sausage into pleasingly tight spots - a la Mrs Chumley-Warner in a Porsche Cayenne on a residential side street. So in rigorous scientific conclusion? The size of a man's tackle matters little if you have a chuff the size of a bucket.

Sweet Home Alabama! As a newbie and having just been booted off of some serious thread (invariably about property prices) for popping off-topic, I find this beauty ? Innuendos R US !!! Hoorah! Far more suited to the musings the imaginatively inclined?. indeed ("hrrrumphf" clears throat)...imagine my delight as I felt myself rising to the occasion ? and what an occasion; grappling with and bedding down a rounded, firm and ripe innuendo! Hmmmm, I mused. Where to start? For this innuendo had to be grammatically robust, penetrative and deeply satisfying; indeed, I?d need to fully explore its possibilities and, ultimately, thrust its point to a steady climax - either in the form of a dot, dot, dot or a conclusive, hard full stop. And how would I lay bare said innuendo for all to see? Well, I might choose to spank said innuendo onto parchment paper, scan its arse and post it double J-pegs for all to see. But first, I'd need to replenish my pen-nib by plunging it deep into sodden ink-pot, withdrawing quickly ? nib laden and glistening before sinking said nib back toward that magic spot at the end of said innuendo... "Ooh right there! Bosh!(?!)" heaving with exhaustion, full stop administered, pen nib back in sheath, kettle on, rich tea biccys at the ready, job done. Buy hey, probably quicker to just bang one out on the computer, though given the Nazis in IT, I might well find myself in a sticky situation. Enough already! Time to pen said innuendo?.

re: strong hunter gatherer women... Depends if we're talking Fatima Whitbread or Sharon Davies? Personally? I'm a Fatima man - she can toss my javelin any time* * apologies - crass and entirely predictable.

Whoops, sorry! ...suitably chastened, our newbie slinks to the lounge; fruit n' brolly laden Pi?a Colada in left hand, a copy of "Jaaaazz - Pilates for the Soul" in the other....

As a newbie to the ED forum, despite living on (you guessed it, Marmora Road) for the last 6 years, I was sat here reading through my second ever thread thinking "this is bloody great"! ... an entertaining jilly-cooper-esque romp, centring on a jodhpur clad (gross assumption) Oxford-educated local estate agent banging on about "best university in the country"!!! Hooorah! Oxford-tastic! Juicier than Vanessa feltz's hiney! Having gone to the quite splendid Warwick University (Law, 1994-1997, 2.1., 68% average - get me!), my intensely well developed brainage let forth an audible "whoop" as it drunk in the razor-sharp prose and insightful musings of our Oxford-educated anti-hero as he battled East Dulwich?s hordes of illiterate proletariat. Unsheathing his moral and intellectual girth and like an unsupervised cad on an oily-buttock-farm, our very own ED Stephen Hawkin* set upon the protruding (and almost certainly organic) buttocks of the uneducated masses ? expending his Oxford-approved authority and unbridled superiority all over the aligned pink, ebony and caramel-cheeked butt-sparagus! "Stupendous! Hoorah! etc", I exclaimed - what a rip-roarer of a thread! Imagine my dismay then, KFC family chicken bucket still brimming, the thread reverted back to property prices and stuff... I cast my 3D specs a-sunder, deployed the trusty lazy-boy to vertical and sloped off in the hope of returning to a juicier ending**? and news of the opening of an oily-buttock-bar just off Lordship Lane. * Also a graduate of ?the best university in the country? - titter. ** one possible suggested ending: ?Exhausted, and girth safely tucked in pants, our protagonist settled down to a cup of tea, a copy of Living South, a half finished treatise on his own Theory of Relativity and a battered copy of razzle (for our man could also multi-task!).?

Completely agree with Benmorg - I was in Ludlows Lordship Lane at the weekend having a nose - and the "Wisened" (all well over 17 years old) Estate Agents and I concurred that there was a considerable amount of froth a-top our East Dulwich Frappa-Cappa-Nero-Chino house prices. Problem is, like Clapham, will this froth simply remain - given East Dulwich long since "arrived". Also, for what's it worth, re: price comparisons - I recently (3 weeks ago) remortgaged on my 2 bedroom top floor flat (avec terrace) on Marmora Road (yes it's SE22...), it was "conservatively" valued at ?280,000 - which for marmora I would say is standard, with any thing over 300,000 for a two bedder looking distinctly toppy. ta ta.