I recently saw Julia for the first time on the telly, in some show about the English countryside. Cor. She walks and talks like she's just had, or just about to have, a huge squirting orgasm. In the show some bloke gets lowered into her gaping, gushing wet hole in a chair at the end of a three-hundred-foot cable. Upon reaching the heaving cave floor, he leaves a calling card and, with a tug of the signal wire, gets hauled back up into the sunlight in time for tea and Battenbergs on the lawn. What a splendid way to spend an afternoon.