Hands off my Habbo

Preface: Roger Waters—

And when they found our shadows
Grouped ’round the TV sets,
They ran down every lead,
They repeated every test.
They checked out all the data on their lists,
And then, the alien anthropologists
Admitted they were still perplexed.
But on eliminating every other reason
For our sad demise,
They logged the only explanation left:
This species has amused itself to death.

And now for something completely different. Or … not. The BBC notes:

A Dutch teenager has been arrested for allegedly stealing virtual furniture from “rooms” in Habbo Hotel, a 3D social networking website.

The 17-year-old is accused of stealing 4,000 euros (£2,840) worth of virtual furniture, bought with real money.

Five 15-year-olds have also been questioned by police, who were contacted by the website’s owners.

The six teenagers are suspected of moving the stolen furniture into their own Habbo rooms ….

…. Habbo users can create their own characters, decorate their own rooms and play a number of games, paying with Habbo Credits, which they have to buy with real cash.

“It is a theft because the furniture is paid for with real money. But the only way to be a thief in Habbo is to get people’s usernames and passwords and then log in and take the furniture.”

Um … right.

Habbo Hotel sees six million players a month across through thirty countries. I admit I’m at a loss for a punch line.

What the hell is wrong with Scottish people?

The headline struck me as funny. “Bike sex man placed on probation”.

I thought, “Now, how the hell do you do that?” Some interesting pictures came to mind, all of which were hilarious. It seemed easy enough to visualize. The basic postures involved seem simple enough. Balancing and steering, though; now that seemed hard. But I was visualizing the wrong scene.

Thankfully, it turns out.

I just did not expect the detail. According to the BBC:

A man caught trying to have sex with his bicycle has been sentenced to three years on probation.

Robert Stewart, 51, admitted a sexually aggravated breach of the peace by conducting himself in a disorderly manner and simulating sex.

Now, let us be clear. Or, maybe not. It is not like he was down in the public square committing velocipedephilia. He was, in fact, shacked up with his bike in a hostel.

Mr Stewart was caught in the act with his bicycle by cleaners in his bedroom at the Aberley House Hostel in Ayr.

Gail Davidson, prosecuting, told Ayr Sheriff Court: “They knocked on the door several times and there was no reply.

“They used a master key to unlock the door and they then observed the accused wearing only a white t-shirt, naked from the waist down.

“The accused was holding the bike and moving his hips back and forth as if to simulate sex.”

Both cleaners, who were “extremely shocked”, told the hostel manager who called police.

It is hard to figure what to say to this. On the one hand, I understand Sheriff Miller’s perspective: “In almost four decades in the law I thought I had come across every perversion known to mankind, but this is a new one on me. I have never heard of a ‘cycle-sexualist’.”

Part of me, though … Okay, hell, I feel badly for the unfortunate pervert, who claims he had too much to drink. I have heard many stories over the years, from vacuum cleaner hoses to large blobs of warm pizza dough. I’ve even heard a story about a tree. For the most part, I can actually sympathize. How much money did that damn movie about screwing apple pie make? Have they stopped making sequels yet?

A bicycle? How …?

And what, they called the police because a man was having a go with his bicycle? What the hell is wrong with Scottish people?

The most amazing thing about it, though, is the poor bastard will spend the next three years on the Sex Offender Registry. Seriously! I almost—almost—wish I lived in Scotland. Do they do like Americans, knocking door to door with flyers, stoking emotions for a rally outside the pervert’s home? I would love to hear the prim, self-righteous crusader explain to me that the man was caught shagging his bicycle.