No one article encapsulated the wrong turn political correctness has taken in recent years than the piece depicted above, entitled Come on Boys, Grin and Bare it, and supposedly written by a Scot Lehigh of the Boston Globe. The article appeared in the Sydney Morning Herald on Saturday, February 26, 2000, and shamelessly demanded that seeing it was now standard fare for naked women to be shot "from all angles" in mainstream movies, then men should show their penises – well, one each – more often. The Bug editor DON GORDON-BROWN has no doubt that Mr Lehigh wants to see more cock and he picked the right city to express such views, and congratulates him on his.....

Raw talent ..... for missing the bleeding obvious!

Women shot from every angle, eh, Scot?
Nothing left to the imagination, whatsoever? And we hardly ever see the male member on the silver screen, right?
Soft focus or hard? Which makes it all very unfair and one-sided?
Well Scot, for your edification, here's a brief tour of the human body. Physiology 1 for Scot Lehigh of the Boston Globe.
Men, by and sometimes large, have a penis and a pair of testicles.
They are called the male external sexual organs. The male of the human doesn't have any internal sex organs unless he's in a hospital with a vibrator stuck up his arse.
If God exists – and s/he must have had a sense of humour – the equivalent external sex organs of the female are the labia majora, the labia minora (visible only when hurdling in the nude) and the clitoris.
The labia are a woman's equivalent of the testicular folds; the clitoris her rudimentary penis. A female's actual equivalent of the testes proper, are of course, her ovaries. These are, for incubation purposes, relocated in the modern female internally for incubation purposes. It's all really poor design when you think about it because men are far more likely to work in situations where they might try to step over a conveyor belt or tractor PTO. Ouch!
So, you see, Scot, the labia and clitoris are women's pink bits; the testicles and penis are men's.
With us so far, Scot Lehigh of the Boston Globe.
You are Scot, are you not? The first thing we looked for when we read your feature was the date. We were a bit disappointed that it wasn't April 1. You could have been forgiven.
Maybe Scot is a pseudonym for a piece of pussy with her tongue firmly in someone else's cheek?
Sadly, we guess not. We're assuming that you were a male at the time of writing, and somehow just had a gigantic brain fade about the basic facts of life.
So, Scot, before we go on, a quick refresher. What happens if you get your girlfriend to cut off her pubic hair, put it in a coffee cup and then, you, Scot, dump your load in it every day for a week before putting the whole shebang in a dark cupboard for nine months. That's right. Sweet fuck all.
Because, Scot? That's right. Female pubes aren't reproductive organs. Neither are female breasts. The scientific journals are bereft of one single case where a woman got pregnant having a good old-fashioned tit fuck.
So, Scot, what we're really trying to get you to understand in Physiology 1 for Scot Lehigh of the Boston Globe is that pubic hair and breasts are not reproductive organs.
Want more proof? Too many years for this correspondent to remember, he covered a Magistrates Court committal hearing where all these gorgeous looking strippers were charged with wilful exposure of their sex organs at a city strip joint.
Me and my fellow court reporters had never been so thirsty, always at the water cooler just outside the witnesses' waiting room. Inside, the likes of Chantelle, Breeze and Misty tittered and giggled as they waited to give evidence and got us all hot and bothered.
As it turned out, Scot, their defence barrister explained to the court that there was no chance at all that any of these beautiful creatures had exposed themselves.
The court was cleared while a doctor testified – aided by some nice Polaroids – that each and every one of our gals was a bloke with average sized male sexual organs.
Whenever they performed, their meat and two vegies were strapped up under their arseholes and the whole non-box and dice was covered by a pubic hairpiece – a muff – that may or may not have had a strip of pork jerky stuck to it.
Amazing, eh? Now, Scot, if experienced, grizzled old Licensing Branch detectives don't know a cunt when they see one from the front row, what chance us, eh?
I suppose what also pissed us off about your article, Scot, was that while demanding more cock on screen to redress some terrible imbalance, you compounded your folly by listing quite a few scenes of recent years of the dangled donger, writ large. We won't even count on one you mentioned, Dirk Diggler's prosthetic protuberance in Boogie Nights.
So let's look at some others. You mentioned Harvey Keitel in Bad Lieutenant and The Piano. Fair enough too. How about that scene from Basic Instinct where that half-mongrel battled for screen time between Mr Zeta Jones and Sharon Stone? Poor Bruce's willis was out in the open in that crappy Colour of Night, as both of you so rightly pointed out?
Heck, The Bug didn't rush out to see it, but remember all the fuss over that movie, Romance, where new ground was broken with a ... gosh, how can we describe it in a family newspaper like this ... Erectus pinkbitus, Glandius maximus, Toolus unbendicus – yes, a penis which, if not completely angry, was certainly in a bit of a tizz.
So, Scot, let's run through the movies where we copped an eyeful of, shamelessly shot from all angles, the equivalent female pink bits.
Hmmm? How about...no wait, that was a home video and I must get it back to my mate.
How about Basic Instinct? That scene where Sharon Stone crosses her legs. Now I'm pretty sure I saw something for a brief moment there until my glasses fogged up. It was all sort of blurry but it could have been female pink bits, or maybe that's how she keeps her baby pet guinea pig warm.
But how about a movie where the female pink bits were exposed for as long and as clear as their male counterparts have been in recent years? Tastefully presented, of course; nothing too gynaecological.
How about .....mmmm. Then there was.... uumm...... ahhhh......