WE live in strange times for sexual behaviour, do we not?
The sexual drive is a strong and wilful one. It is also, by turns, frustrating, immensely pleasurable and hugely distracting.
Our meddling New Labour Government is far too keen to limit and proscribe what men and women may or may not do by way of sexual behaviour.
This new Puritanism, which chiefly sees women as victims and men as predators, is backed by force of law and the eager cooperation of a politically correct police force.

But the law is a very blunt instrument when it comes to the regulation of human sexual behaviour.
That is why in some cultures there is a “crime of passion” which seeks to mitigate criminal intention in an act of wrong-doing.
When we are all fired up by, for instance, sexual jealousy, we can all turn into monsters, so the reasoning goes, but it is not the essential “us” that deranged and turned to evil; it is the weirdly transforming energy of the sex drive that causes our transformation.
The reason I raise all this, is because I have noticed that while men are nowadays encouraged to show restraint in courtship and sexual relationships, the modern generation of women seem to think it perfectly acceptable to act as sexual predators, in both the larky sense, and also in all seriousness quite often.
I have myself been “sexually harassed” by women in recent years. Sometimes I have rather enjoyed the experience. Other times not.
I think what is at fault here is a coarsening of sexual behaviour generally in our dumbed down society.
Actually, we all know the difference between lust and love, and I think we all know what we prefer – and that is love, in case anyone is wondering.
Just recently, something that my friend Dr Gyggle from New Brighton told me, made me reflect on this issue.
He had been walking down (or up, I forget) the stairs at James Street rail station in Liverpool. Also on the stairs at the time was a youngish man, and behind him, a gaggle of drunken young Scouse women.
Now these women fancied the young man, and started tittering about that, and making lascivious remarks.
OK nothing to bad about that. We’ve all experienced it. You learn to react with humour and tolerance to such bawdiness.
We Brits have, after all, grown up with the ‘Fnnnarr, fnnarr, nudge, nudge, wink, wink!’ of Carry On films and the like.
But then these girls ran up to the young man on the stairs and repeated grabbed his arse. Apparently, it wasn’t a playful pinch, but a serial set of determined groping. He was given a proper good (or bad!) goosing.
Now, the lad was embarrassed by the young women’s actions, I’m told, but did not overreact, and certainly did not go running off to the police to make a complaint.
Dr Gyggle himself was the next victim, “They came up and groped me arse, as brazen as you like,” he told me in a tone of, well, I couldn’t make out whether it was outrage or gratitude…
But imagine of the roles had been reversed and a group of drunken lads had groped the arse of a lone, young female traveller.
The woman probably would have made a complaint to the police – and she would have been quite right to do so.
The question is this: is it right that higher standards of sexual behaviour are these days required of men, but if women step over the line, their actions can be considered merely a laughing matter.
In other words, why does society take such a dim view of men who behave like cavemen, when it is all too willing to turn a blind eye when so many women behave like slags?

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