DOUBLE O: THE ART OF RAILWAY MODELLING / 2001

PART 1

Railway modelling - a creative and fulfilling pastime for all the family. In these days of Pokemon and Playstations, one could be forgiven for thinking that the demise of such low tech, old fashioned toys is at hand. Well, I would say, think again.

This footage (above) testifies to a wonderful day spent at the Pecorama model railway museum in Devon, an excursion I can heartily recommend to anyone with more than a passing interest in this field. And the news I bring back from the West Country is that a vibrant and stimulating scene does exist, and this talk will hopefully serve to open your eyes to the cornucopian possibilities for enjoyment and satisfaction represented by the discipline of railway modelling. So, it's Christmas day. Your child has joyously unwrapped his big present, concluding the present giving ceremony - he beams with delight upon seeing what lies underneath the colourful paper and bows - his first model train. What now? Well, I can certainly tell you what NOT to do. The temptation is to plonk your track just anywhere. This is pure folly. Never lay the track directly onto a carpet unless you want to spend Boxing Day removing cat hair and dust from the delicate motorized mechanism that drives your child's model locomotive. Soft carpets also increase the possibility of derailment, so what is needed is a level base board upon which the track can be tacked with small pins, keeping it firmly in one position, and away from direct contact with the floor, thus protecting the motor from fluffy carpet residues. Usually, a simple oval of track is ample as a starting point for the average child. And here is where the fantasies can start. When I was a child, I had favourite kinds of train, and the wonderful thing about railway modelling was that you could have those very trains in your bedroom.

This (below) is a Class 50 - you used to find these locomotives plying the route between London Paddington and the West Country. Only 50 were ever made, but they were amongst the most distinctive looking and sounding locomotives ever to operate on the British Railway system.

Everything about them was unique. The lighting configuration; the cab design - fascinating - and most of all, the roar, which unfortunately can't be reproduced here. Indeed, not only the sound, but the mere sight of one of these locomotives in my youth would, with few exceptions, produce enormous erective pressure. Of course, I'm speaking in the past tense as all the class 50's have now been withdrawn from service after 30 years on the front line. As John Vaughan put it in the Motive Power Review of 1990: "Personally speaking, there will be a tremendous void when the Class 50's take their last bow. It is hard to envisage getting wildly excited over the Class 165 diesel multiple units that have been mooted to replace them" Luckily for me, my favourite train was, and still is available in model form, thus providing much in the way of masturbatory possibilities. However, for the purposes of this demonstration, I will be using a small generic steam locomotive and a rake of proprietary rolling stock. Once the track is laid, and the train is up and running, the next stage is to develop ones scenic skills. There are many items available not only from specialised outlets, but from any DIY store, such as chicken wire, very good for forming the basis of mountains and hilly areas - this can be moulded into shape, covered with papier mache, then painted. We also have granite chippings, useful for rubbing into the flaccid penis to induce an almost instantaneous erection. All can be used in conjunction with dilated - sorry, diluted PVA glue. This grass powder and lichen can make a bucolic country scene look almost like the real thing! Look - I'll show you…a world in miniature (below).

PART 2

Lets take a look at what's really happening down there...

We have the passengers waiting patiently at the wayside halt for the local train service. The signal box workers carrying out essential duties, making sure your train arrives at its destination safely, and on time. Away from the railway, we even have the postman making his morning deliveries (see above). So as you can see, all kinds of scenarios and positions (below) can be accurately created

But perhaps, there comes a time in every man's life when he really ought to put aside such childish things. This started to happen to me when I was about 14 with my graduation to a slightly more specialised, adult orientated market. By this, I mean, non-commercial, 'under the counter' product so to speak. However, such things can introduce…complications, and at this point, I was induced to seek help. Railway Modeller magazine can only be described as a bible to any self respecting rail enthusiast. I'm just going to read you something from the letters page:

It wasn't until a few years later that my prayers were answered when Hornby launched the Class 466 Networker train packs. Try and imagine how this feels - with very slightly trembling hands, you open the box, and there nestling in a bed of soft tissue paper is a model to rival anything in the hobby today. Now although this was not the Class 319 I had originally wanted, it was one of the first ready to run representations of an electric multiple unit released onto the market. It was also groundbreaking in terms of the levels of detail - crisp and well defined are the watchwords.

PART 3

What really sets this model off are the subtly defined window frames, door control panels and bogie damper brackets faithfully moulded along the bodyshell skirt.

So to conclude, this Class Hornby 466 was most certainly in a class of it's own. (see above). Reading that letter written all those years ago, it gets me thinking that clearly, there is a paradox here. Surely most other boys of that age would be out indulging themselves in soft drugs, and underage sex, whilst vandalising bus stops and listening to gangsta rap.

While the rest of the model railway is constructed, the video Passionate About plays:

"I know there are model locomotives lovelier than mine, and costlier by far, but the pleasure I derive from my '0 4 0 number 8' is immeasurable. It runs on double 0 gauge track giving off a compelling aroma of steam and hot oil. The boiler capacity is 200ml or thereabouts, and operates at a pressure of 30lbs psi. However, it at present lacks a pressure and water gauge. The spirit burner is snugly fitted through the aperture to prevent its ejection during motion. It has some fascinating characteristics when in steam and is a delight to the eye like bitches, all kinds of bitches, to take off my clothes and pull down my britches. If she's got big titties, I'll squeeze them and hold them, the exhaust pipe passing into the forward chimney while she sucks my dick and licks my scrotum, which is connected to the firebox, mounted on a small brass tank adjacent to the slide case. This collects most of the waste oil and condensate, directing it out through a 2mm pipe. If she's got a friend, I'll fuck her to, together we can play a game of switcheroo. The methylated spirit burner enters through the lower aperture as I ain't the type that gets all mushy; I just like to site back and watch them eat each others pussy's."

"A straight nose cock is fitted to the front end of the cylinder which when opened becomes single acting when you see you ho's got it wrong; think since a nigger say he love you, he ain't strong; with a rather impressive hissing steam sound. The copper boiler with super heater lieu is housed in a 32 gauge aluminium untouchable firebox; as a precaution however, I always fill the spirit burner and place it in the firebox and ignite it through the side hole. But that's the kind of nigger I am; a pussy fucking gangster, goddamn. Six different ho's a night, but number 8 responds more willingly to a favourable gradient, when I use lubricated rubbers to make the pussy feel right. However, there is always some water remaining in the boiler after the burner is extinguished. I try not to use solid fuel tablets as they cause deposits to form on the underside of the boiler. To clean the copper boiler, I put the pussy in its place, and right before I nut, pull it out, then to the face; and tell the bitch to keep licking, and prepare herself for another ruthless dicking. This sometimes results in a loss of tractive effort."

"I've never been played by a ho; if the bitch is acting stupid, she's got to go. Some motherfucker missed that? If she fucks with me, I'm a kick her little monkey ass. I'd also like to thank 'Sir' for the loan of the Stuart lubricator, Brownlow for the Mammod wheels, and my long suffering mother for tolerating all the stains on the carpet. The copper flange piping contributes to its two kilogram weight, but if you've fucked one mother, you've fucked them all; because if you mum offer me the pussy, the plumbing lagged with silicone tubing runs a rather bizarre course, the double acting cylinder determined by the position of the lubricator which faces the wrong way in relation to the type of nigger tell a ho suck dick. And if she ain't sucking, I've soldered a brass baffle across the top of the chimney as the steam exhaust pipe sometimes has a tendency to spit."

"Bitches look at me like I'm a faker, knowing goddamn well I'm a motherfucking heartbreaker, with a mechano brass reduction gearing to a 1 to 7 ratio transferring the drive by a wire belt with pulleys to the forward wheels. I've had them crying for months, because I fucked their best friends and put a whipping on their cunts. At the present time number 8 is confined to a test track in the garage but if the bitch don't give up the play, fuck her. Combined with a displacement lubricator, I'm a motherfucker. I put a bitch through a test, if she don't pass, she don't get blessed with a fibre wheeled stop valve. And if that test consists of fucking my whole crew, well goddamn bitch that's what you've got to do. Delivery to the engine is controlled, and fucked me till I was coming, put my nuts in her mouth, and started humming. Then, the entire mechanism runs smoothly, which I lubricate meticulously though excessively opened up my butt cheeks and started licking out my arse hole. Number 8 will hopefully migrate to the garden before Michaelmas term when I'll grab her by the mother fucking neck, and try and break it. You know who you're fucking with bitch?"

But, the studied rebellion of the adolescent would perhaps manifest itself in a rather puerile, schoolboyish approach to railway modelling. For instance, cheap puns such as arranging the tracks in a manner that resembles the male member. The scrotums. The glans - there's even the possibility of a genital wart here. Notice also the concentration of trees and shrubbery in the scrotal region suggestive perhaps, of pubic hair (see below).

Of course, in this case, any resemblance to a great…big…cock…is entirely coincidental - a mere figment of your sick and depraved imaginations. So, enough of these priapic fixations. To scenically 'prettify' or 'titivate' the posterior is another activity that gives me great pleasure. This grass powder and lichen can make a bucolic country scene look almost like the real thing!

Here we have the idea of converting ones arse into a leafy glade where families can picnic and relax in the summer underneath…telegraph poles (see above) The fantasy here is of a multiple anal penetration resulting in massive rectal haemorrhage. Fun is also to be had re-enacting famous train disasters such as those at Clapham Junction and Southall. In scale terms, one tin of Humbrol red enamel paint (colour code 38) can provide a convincing depiction of blood, for at least 20 victims. But remember, this paint is oil based and very difficult to remove in the event of a spillage on fabric or furnishings. And now finally, for those who derive lengthened and intensified genital excitation with the introduction of faecal matter…

END