Tearing a strip off the Kissogram craze!

 

 

TEARING A STRIP OFF

THE KISSOGRAM CRAZE!

 

 

 

First we had the Kissogram. Then came a whole assortment of strippers, gorillas, naughty nurses, vicars and schoolgirls and (worst of all) those Incredibly Gross and Ugly-grams! 

For a fee as fat as their figures, an increasing number of Pavarotti-sized men and women seem willing to publicly degrade themselves - and humiliate their unsuspecting victims - in the belief they are providing a “fun” service. But a service to whom? 

It makes me cringe to witness the sheer look of helpless terror on the faces of the poor people with the misfortune of having a birthday, moving to a new job, or retiring from work. 

 

 

 

In my experience, most wish that the floor would open up or that Scotty would beam them up pronto - but being the focus of attention, they are trapped for fear of being considered a “killjoy.” 

And the thigh’s the limit if their chosen greeting comes courtesy of one of those roly-poly revoltograms straight out of the pages of the Sunday Sport. It’s difficult to tell who is the most embarrassed - the victim, his so-called friends, or the poor woman herself! 

The trouble with this whole tasteless industry is there are no half-measures. To flaunt herself in undergarments that fit like a sunburn, the girl must either have the figure or the nerve. But I have to say, not many have the figure. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For some reason Kissogram girls either have chests which resemble a toast rack or a dead heat in a Zeppelin race. 

The blokes are no better, especially the so-called “Tarzans” who look more like contestants in a Mr Punyverse contest. One poor weed I felt sorry for had muscles in his arms like potatoes (the mashed kind). He could tear up a phone book a page at a time, no problem!

It’s bad enough that we are subjected to these tacky charades in our offices and factories without having them inflicted on us when we’re out for a quiet pint. 

 

 

 

I was in a crowded pub in Hatfield two years ago when one of those “pornogram” girls took the lot off - ending up in a pathetic undignified heap on the floor with two salivating drunkards. 

On another occasion I saw a girl pose as a Sally Army collector before stripping down to her bare essentials. And if I had worn what I saw one bloke wear in a pub full of young women not long ago, I’m sure I’d have been arrested and charged with offending public decency! 

I take my hat off to Sue Lawley who recently stamped on plans to end her stint on Wogan with a Kissogram Muscleman. If anyone EVER tried to pull such a stunt on Smith on Saturday, you can be sure they’ll be told to kiss off!

 

(This column was originally published in the Northamptonshire Evening Telegraph on Saturday, 10 November, 1990)