I was having a barbecue at the house of some relatively new friends the other month. The weather turned a little unpleasant so we took our nibbles and drinks and adjourned to the living room.

Taking pride of place above their fireplace was an enormous photograph of the lady of the house in her lingerie. I was taken aback for a few seconds and Melsie noticed I was looking at her portrait. I felt like I’d been sprung.

Melsie – “Do you love it Jase? Best thing I ever did, just for me”. She beamed with pride.

I couldn’t think of anything to say.

Me – “You look very… enthusiastic”. This was probably not the most complimentary word to choose.

I never really understood the upside of the whole portrait thing. Family shots I get, but a single photo of the family mum, displayed relatively publically, I just find a bit unusual. I know they are designed to make women feel beautiful, special and the process itself allows them to be spoiled for a day, which happens very rarely in their busy lives. But…

Nobody would ever accuse me of being a prude, ever. However, in this case I felt a tad awkward standing next to Melsie, her eleven and seven-year old daughters and her husband Phil, smiling as we all admired the massive photo. The likeness of Melsie was… provocative.

She had her hair teased up and blonded, her lips were bright red, glossy and were unusually Angelina Jolie like. She was wearing black lingerie (and a fur) and her ample cleavage was very much on display. Melsie was lying on what appeared to be a rose petal-strewn, heart-shaped bed!


Not only did Melsie look like one of Heidi Fleiss’s girls, but the portrait didn’t even resemble her. She was so teased, made-up, dyed and airbrushed, that I could barely recognise her. I’m pretty sure good old Phil feels like he has two women in his life. His lovely wife and mother Melsie, and her sexed up young doppelgänger “Melsie Sweet Stuff”.

I cannot see how it could do anything other than constantly hammer Melsie’s self-esteem. In the photo she looked fantastic, not a hair was out-of-place and not a wrinkle or blemish was present on her skin. She looked slim, young and passionate.

What must poor Melsie feel when she looks at herself in the mirror and sees her actual face – a normal woman’s face, a real face with a few crow’s feet, carrying a bit more weight than she probably wishes and looking her age. How is Melsie seriously meant to remain confident and energised when she has to constantly look at the “perfected”, Melsie Sweet Stuff version of herself every day?

Wouldn’t she feel that people (blokes in particular I suppose) will look at the portrait and think to themselves, she used to be such a hotty!

I suggest all portraits which are hung in living rooms should be designed to make the real person look good by comparison.

I saw a photo the other day of me at a birthday, dancing. It was a shocker and if I didn’t know better I’d swear I was fat and bald (I know, I know, I am fat and bald). That’s the photo I would have above my fireplace! One like my profile picture, that makes people say, you’re looking bloody good today.

Looking good, feeling good.


Thanks for reading. I write blogs, oftentimes simply to claim at parties much to my wife’s chagrin, that I am in fact… a writer. At other times, to allow businesses and business-people to get their message across. Get ready for our upcoming Podcast!

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Cheers. Jase


I was sitting in Hornswood Westfield the other day, having a coffee and a slightly less-than-tasty, low-fat muffin. Nibbling and sipping, I couldn’t help but notice the very attractive, twenty-something-year-old woman who sat down at the next table. She was very fit, good-looking and wearing not much. You get the picture.

A couple who looked to be in their early sixties approached where the attractive woman was sitting and texting. What I then saw was an incredible performance in the art of perving. The old campaigner, who I will call… say… Churchill, unknowingly provided me with a tutorial on what perving is, how to get away with it and how to get maximum advantage.

Whether we men are young or old, gay or straight, fans of Neil Diamond or not, when a very attractive person is spotted we have to check them out. It’s not avoidable for us. It stems back to caveman days where we were hunters and the women were gatherers. We had to have the sharp, well-honed spotting eyes for tracking and predatorial-protection purposes. If the men got their spotting wrong, their entire wretched fire-huddled clan may be trampled by a rampaging, slobbering mammoth. If the females got their spotting wrong, the clan would have a few less berries to munch on that afternoon.

Here’s how the situation in Hornswood Westfield unfolded.

Churchill slowed and eventually the couple stopped in front of my table just near the entrance to the chemist. His wife had not noticed the lady sitting at the table


Lesson 1Subtly move away from your spouse and manufacture some reason to stay within the vicinity of your target.

Churchill being the consummate perver, needed to lose his wife. With a simple, “I’ll just make a call honey”, it was done. Pulling out his phone, Churchill had a valid reason to loiter. I had to watch the guy, he was good.

Lesson 2There are many different ways to skin a cat.

This guy had all the techniques and did not waste the opportunity to put them to good use. He brought out all the classics –

“The Chameleon” – the head looks forward, but the eyes are strained so hard to the side of the socket, that one can almost see behind themselves. Churchill in front of me, had incredible eyeball control.

“The Glimmer Man” – cleverly use any reflective surface. In this case Churchill was putting the glass frontage of the chemist to maximum use.

“The Incidental” – hold up something (in his case the phone) just below the line of vision to look like you are innocently focusing, while actually getting an incidental perv over or around said object.

I was watching a master at work. He was perving to his heart’s content, she was completely unaware and his wife was happily smelling perfume. I have never seen a man so practiced in the perv. He was the Minnesota Fats of perving. The Master Perver. El Perverino.

Lesson 3Don’t get caught.

If your partner catches you perving, or the person you are perving upon notices, the whole house of cards falls down.

The second that Churchill’s wife exited the chemist, with a ready to go honey his phone call immediately ended and with her, he started to move on. Pointedly ignoring the lady, he made his way past my table. I gave him a wry, yet respectful, smile. He gave me the tiniest of nods that said “here endeth the lesson son”.

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