Hobbit Sex Ed

[Bêthberry]

Originally Posted by Diamond18

Dear Miss Maril Eangorifurnimaluim,

I have just lately read your scandalous article in The Barrow Downs Gazette, and must inform you of the moral outcry that has arisen in the Hobbit community. From the farthest reaches of the Four Farthings, such indignation as has not been heard since one Thistle Thwipon of Bywater took off her dress in the midday to swim in the Brandywine River, has poured forth from the upstanding citizens of the Shire.

Therefore, Miss Eangorifurnimaluim, I am writing this letter on behalf of not only the Garden Club, but the entire Shire. We represent 11 different guilds (though not the Lollygag Guild, for there is no such thing and you are gravely mistaken if you even suggest that there is) when we call for a complete and total retraction of all the slanderous words regarding [here the ink is smudged] in the Hobbit community.

If you do not comply with our just request, we shall move the Mayor to pass a resolution to do something about it, and you don't want that, do you? Because, whatever it is, it won't be pleasent. In other words, no elevenses for you, young lady, until you publish a statement which falls under the moral guidelines adopted by one Fernious Hogswill. That is, the Garden Club motto: Prim, Priggish, Prude: Forever...Anon.

Yours Truly,
Lousewart Chastitybelt, Secretary of the Garden Club

The things that happen to one's eyesight in old age. I reread this and could have sworn it was signed by one Lousewart Chastitty. tsk.

*makes note to bring this to the attention of Mr. Dark Elf, who has a sharp hand himself in such (letter writing) affairs*

[HerenIstarion]

And I am still able to write Marileangorifurnimaluim without need to resort to copy-paste

Marileangorifurnimaluim (typed out)
Marileangorifurnimaluim (pasted)

Phew

[Morthoron]

Originally Posted by Bêthberry

*makes note to bring this to the attention of Mr. Dark Elf, who has a sharp hand himself in such (letter writing) affairs*

From the Desk of the Dark Elf

TO: The Hobbiton Garden Club
Post Office Box 13
3 West Road Lane
Hobbiton, The Shire


RE: Hobbitish Habits and Perrianathic Proclivities

Considering the invisible hand of non-ritualistic Catholicity permeating Hobbitish society, stiff as it is with a rigid class-system groaning with Victorian repression, one can easily ascertain among heaving Halflings who is on top and who is bringing up the rear (speaking from a purely societal sense). The sublimated Popery never swells to bulging proportions, as religiosity is neatly swept beneath the covers, but there is still a missionary zeal among Hobbits -- at least in the sense of the commission of one’s procreative mission, with no admission of dominant/submission, a glaring omission certainly in keeping with the stifled moral aspects of the priggish perrianath.

But roiling below the prim veneer of tightly buttoned weskits and brooding bustles is a nipple…I mean…ripple of kinkiness pervading the seedy underbelly of seemingly staid Hobbitish life. Is it any wonder that the mushroom, that most phallic of fungi, is worshipped by these habitual hole-dwellers? Of course, proclivities and fetishes stay as well hidden as the inhibited inhabitants ensconced in their undulating mounds, and a symbolic code – a language of love – has risen up among the Hobbits, representing a secret idiom that foils nosey outsiders, but is as good as a wink and a nudge to the knowing Shirelings. For example, there is the rather disturbing naming convention of some established Hobbitish families that vaguely resembles soft-core porn (Bilbo and Bungo, for instance), and the more pervasive naming of female Hobbits after flowers, who are, of course, pollinated quite regularly with fertile abandon.

Of course, there is the presence of ‘confirmed bachelors’ living under the same roof (which is perhaps where the ‘Queer Lodgings’ chapter from The Hobbit got its name), and the all too uncomfortable sequence of four male Hobbits cavorting and dancing naked on the Barrow Downs. To put it in terms that are not too explicit, Samwise had to marry Rosie Cotton, not because he knocked her up prematurely, but because the gossip around Hobbiton centered on Bag End (and if that isn’t a metaphoric name, I don’t know what is), and the odd relationship between the ‘gardener’ and his ‘master’. Talk about turning into something ‘unnatural’!

Keep up the good work, ladies. Stiff upper lip and all!

Sincerely,
Morthoron
The Dark Elf

[Eruhen]

Dr. Eangorifurnimaluim,

We of the editorial staff of the Bree-land Times only recently received the manuscript of your study of the procreative activities of the Hobbits of the Shire. While hesitant to name names, I believe that the delay was due to the propensity of a local publican to inadvertently forget to arrange the delivery of important missives.

Regardless of the long delay, we would be more than happy to arrange a printing of your findings for the Folk of Bree, both Big and Little. Breelanders have always been more open about such matters than the stodgy Shirefolk; there are several old jokes and bawdy songs about the matter of wearing shoes which have come down to us from time out of mind.

There would be a wide market for your work in the shops of the Bree-land, and I am certain it would also sell well to visitors from the East and the South who wish to learn more about the habits and proclivities of the Little Folk. If you wish, I could also arrange interviews with members of the Hobbit community of Bree and Staddle; several individuals have already come forward wishing to share their experiences and those of their distant relations off to the West.

Also, contrary to popular belief, this study has not been widely circulated in Bree. Less than a dozen copies have come to us from Brandywine Press, and those few copies only recently reached their intended recipients, due to the above-mentioned issues with the delivery of the post.

Respectfully yours,

Tom Fernroot
Editor-in-Chief, Bree-land Times