A shriveled-up nut in a bag of earth worms

"I'm going to do today's post about our book collections."

"Do we have book collections?"

"Yes! You collect leather-bound Victorian books full of ill-informed medical advice and I collect books with rude titles."

"Oh yes!"

It has been several years since either of us added to our respective collections. Having a child really fucks about with your hobbies.

"Do you want to come and have your photo taken in front of your collection?"

"Would you like me to?"

"Yes please. It'll add some life to the photo."

"Shall I just preen my moustache?"

"Aren't you worried I'll take a photo of you doing that - " [Click] "and tell the Internet you preened it especially?"

"Do! Then they'll know I made the effort to look nice for them."

"Okay."

Here is Ian's book collection, in the shelves on the right. To get to it, you must be over six feet tall and able to fight your way through well-developed cheese plants. It is watched over by Dolores, the inflatable and frequently saggy shark.

Ian collects nineteenth-century medical encyclopaeaediaeaeae. The book I scanned the other day, with the remedy for sweaty canaries, is one of these. He likes them because they are written with absolute authority on the basis of total bollocks.

"For ailing eyesight, apply three drops molten lead and tincture of laudanum. The entire head to be boiled in horse's milk, then the patient to be left in a cold draught for a week until improvement is shown."

I made that up because it was quicker than finding an actual funny bit. But look here!

Ian has found me a bit that really is all bollocks: the section on Testicles from Common Sense Medical Adviser, 1883.

"Fig 190 shows a healthy testicle. It is round, full and plump, like an egg, with only sufficient vessels to supply it with blood, and to carry off its secretion. Fig 191 shows a shrunken, or wasted testicle, having the appearance of a shriveled-up nut in a bag of earth worms. This condition is not an uncommon result of masturbation or self-abuse.

"...In health, the testicle should feel full, firm and plump, and should round out the scrotum, which should also present a full, plump, well-contracted, or drawn up appearance, instead of allowing the testicles to hang low and pendulous, like the weights of a clock when run down."

I think the author really threw himself into writing that bit.

Most of Ian's medical books are united in their stance against masturbation, which they claim reduced the healthy man on the right to the dried-up wanked-out husk you see on the left.

I don't know how he got himself into that state, as this was actually in the days before penises, when all they had was bollocks and leaves.

And I'm not going to explain these at all:

My book collection is quite different to Ian's: its theme and appeal lie on a far shallower level. Also, it lives in the toilet.

"Do you want me to take photos of you, now, sitting on the loo and reading your books?"

"No, not really. My hair looks like shit."

But he did anyway.

One day about ten years ago, I was sitting around stoned, and thought it would be funny to collect books whose titles were double entendres. The very next day, I began. I went into a charity shop in York, to see what they had, and within a few minutes I found this book:

Then I knew this collection was meant to be.

Here I am trying to locate Back Crack Boy while Ian photographs another prominent conversation-piece in our loo: The Poo Shelf. I could explain it now, but it's late and I'm tired. All you need to know for now is, that's not real poo.

Some favourites:

The Horn
Hairline Cracks
The Pale Sergeant
Fanny
Wagner's Ring (from Helena)
Free Willy
Coming From Behind
Le Petit Soldat
Flicka
Giving and Receiving
A Wild Ride Up The Cupboards (an inspired gift from Ian's brother Stuart)
The Mottled Lizard (because after a while, everything sounds filthy)
Discovering Lost Canals

There's one I really want to steal from the church hall where Esme goes to playgroup, but I can't bring myself to do something so immoral. It's called The King is Coming. I shall do the decent thing and find it on Amazon, like I did for this:

I first saw a copy of this one on a shelf at my grandfather's 80th birthday party. I'd only met my grandfather for the first time a couple of days beforehand, along with all this other long-lost family I never thought I'd meet, so it was this big touching family thing and suddenly OH MY GOD RIDE THE PINK HORSE! I briefly considered explaining my book collection to my new-found uncles, aunts and cousins, then thought ... No.

The pride of my collection is Forging The Tortilla Curtain. Ian bought it for me and it's never been unwrapped, although Esme is desperate to tear off the clingfilm.

Top of my wishlist these days is Helmet of Flesh. Just so you know.