On hiding stuff
Circumstance took me to the Japanese island of Okinawa, where I spent a week holding the rank of Captain in the United States Air Force.
The awful thing about living out of a suitcase in some dreadful cheap foreign motel (Five quid a night – in Japan!) is that you're going to get bored very, very quickly.
My Stephen King door-stop despatched within two days – it wasn't even one of his decent novels – and English-language literature as rare as hen's teeth, I did what any normal USAF Captain would do.
I went out and bought a load of Japanese MILF porn with my stash of cold, hard yen. It was called – according to the shonky Engrish translation – "Kimono Dragons".
And no, we're not talking Moro Islamic Liberation Front here.
Well, it passed the time.
And when my time came to depart for the bright lights of Tokyo, and then the blessed, green fields of Blighty, I must admit I panicked. I had, in my possession, a quantity of Japanese MILF porn, which would be flying with me on All Nippon Airways later that day.
So, if any of you lot are planning to stay that the Shogun Inn on Okinawa, go into the bathroom, lift the ceiling tile above the bath, and you will find your very own stash of Japanese MILF porn. FREE of charge.
There's an internet start-up in this. Take the idea of Bookcrossing and/or Geocaching and apply it to your secret stash of hidden MILF porn.
Categorised by location, quantity and genre, it would take sweaty old perverts away from the computer screen and into the countryside on the hunt for free fat bird jazz.
I'll call it pornstashing.com, and this time next year Rodders, we'll be millionaires.
I've made a start already. Look.