The Joy Of Doctor Who
(or Sex for lusty young Whovians)
Sex is one of those things that we are told is beautiful, and indeed natural, within a
loving relationship, but I'm talking to Dr Who fans here, and sex with your Dapol Bonnie
Langford is neither beautiful nor natural. As far as sex goes, being a Doctor Who fan is a
bit of a no-no. How often have you begun to make that passionate advance when casually you
tell her that she means almost as much to you as Tom Baker, and she quietly remembers that
appointment with her lobotomist that she must get to immediately? What you need is some
help. Like "What is sex?", "Will I meet it in Woollies?" and
"Where does the the spaghetti fit in?"
To answer this we have "Fun", "Not on a Wednesday" and "You'll
have to ask Stephen O'Brien". What do you mean that doesn't help? Okay I suppose I'd
better go back to basics.
Sex is a very complicated indeed, and, believe it or not, involves more than just your
hand and a copy of 'Penthouse'. Normally it involves at least two of you (and no copies of
'Penthouse'). How do you do it? With someone else normally. Why do you do it? Why not?
Look, there are plenty of books to deal with the mechanics of all this so read one of
those. What Auntie Paddums is here for is to deal with are the Doctor Who specifics of
Who to have sex with. Well, me old bucko, your choices are a little
1) Yourself (why change the habits of a lifetime?).
2) A Girl (this is a real challenge).
3) A Boy (not quite so much of a challenge, especially if you are that almost legendary
creature, the female Whovian).
4) No one.
How do I meet them? In the same order as above (assuming you are of
the male persuasion - a simple test is to count the number of things dangling between your
legs when naked and divide by 3. If you get 1 you're male, 0 then you're female. Any other
answer and you're probably a member of the Nazi War Cabinet);
1) Just stay in with your copy of 'Penthouse': you're bound to come into contact
eventually, you grubby little person.
2) Forsake Doctor Who fandom forever and become a normal person. Do normal things; lose
the anorak and the greasy hair; and under no circumstances do a degree in computer
3) Go along to a Doctor Who convention. There's an awful lot of them there. Something
to do with the all male environment.
4) All this means is doing like the priest told you.
How will I know a girl when I see one? If they are willing, conduct
Paddy's Patented Sex test above on them and see if you get the answer 0. If you can get
them to do that you've really got no problems at all pal. Another way, if you should meet
them at a convention, is to casually drop the subject of Star Trek or Battlestar Galactica
into the conversation, and if they go all excited and won't shut up about either of those
for a long time, chances are that they are indeed female. Unfortunately they may be even
more boring than you are. If looking for something a bit more kinky apply the same test
with Avon, Blake's Seven and Leather Trousers as the topic of conversation.
How will I know a boy when I see one? If you're at a Doctor Who
convention, look around a bit. 99.99% of the people you will see are NOT female. Work the
rest out for yourself.
How do I get them to have sex with me? If you are one of the 0.01%
this should be relatively simple. Just find a male, put a bag over your head and spread
your legs. You weren't wanting to be too fussy were you? If you should indeed be male then
this may be a bit more tricky. Go up to a DWAS exec member, tell them that you have a
matter you'd like them to go into, and when they ask what, say it's your underpants. This
will either meet with immediate success or the author has been over-stereotyping again.
Another alternative is to dress up as a pink Cyberman and jump on the first Dalek that
takes your fancy. Endless hours of fun to be had with that sink-plunger ...
Does size actually matter? No, he's probably just as big a pillock as
Marital aids for whovians. To bring that essential 'Dr Who-ness' to
the relationship there are always those dubious Hammer films that Lalla Ward is reputed
(possibly) to take her clothes off in (besides the anticipation might just be enough for
all you pervos), or those pictures of Katy Manning and the Dalek, or you could get some
green-coloured condoms and pretend you're Erato. The scope is limitless. Choice phrases to
throw in in the midst of passion are "It's bigger on the inside!", "Oh
Doctor - it's huge!", "Yes! Yes! I feel a cliff-hanger coming on!" and of
course "Exterminate! Exterminate!"
Contraception. The ultimate form of contraception is to tell her that
you are a Doctor Who fan, and did she know that Tom Baker's scarf was 23 feet long? Not a
chance of her getting pregnant by you after that one! Better than the pill or those
curious rubber contraptions.
Do I really stand a chance? No, not really. In fact, there's more
chance of Patrick Troughton becoming the movie Doctor than any of you getting anything
more than a dirty hankerchief into bed with you. But don't give up hope. One day you will
meet the woman of your dreams, and then you too can write smug articles about poor nerds
with no sex life and make them green with envy. (Back to Erato again, I'm afraid.) Until
then, you still have your Sophie Aldred poster, your Planet of Fire video, and your right
hand. But rest assured, it is just a coincidence that most Doctor Who fans wear glasses.
And above all, remember :
There is nothing wrong with Dr Who fans that a good rogering wouldn't cure.
This is the problem.
Issue five contents
Five Hundred Eyes index