‘Crabs’ are lice. There are head lice, body lice and genital lice (crabs). The crab or genital louse likes to live around the hairs of cocks and cunts but often can be found wandering in armpits, chest or even eyebrow hair. They look a bit like sea-shore type crabs but are about the size of a pinhead and when you catch one, if you hold it up to the light you will be able to see that it is not a speck of fluff or dirt because it has legs and claws that move. They cling onto your hairs and bite into your skin, sucking your blood and shitting, causing intense itching and making small reddened patches which will get larger when scratched and may become severely infected, needing antibiotic treatment. Tender lumps in the groin or armpit – see your doctor!

These itchy little gits also lay tiny but quite visible oval eggs (nits’), which cling to hairs (like the ‘nits’ of the head louse) and hide in clothing, particularly seams, bed-linen, towels etc.

“The best way to get rid of them is never to catch them” – Some unwordly medical wit thought that one up, but is best to have a good look at whoever you may feel like scoring with. Cleanliness is not next to godliness – but it scares the shit out of lice! If you have it off all over the place and you can’t wash thoroughly every day – then you’re mad – and a danger to everybody. If you’ve got crabs without knowing it then you’re simple, because from now on you’ll be able to look carefully for the creatures, especially if you’re scratching a lot.

When you’ve got crabs. We are all a bit simple occasionally, so when you’ve got crabs buy yourself some QUELLADA LOTION from any chemist (use QUELLADA PC as a shampoo if you’ve got head lice) – have a shower or bath and put on lotion strictly according to instructions on the bottle. Don’t put any of the same clothes back on. Wash them and iron them – particularly the seams. Don’t use the same towels or bedclothes again until they’ve been thoroughly washed.

One application should be enough but it s best to repeat the whole thing again after seven days. Not before that and not again in the same infestation. Don’t wear clothes you think you may have worn since you caught crabs unless they are washed or dry-cleaned first. Quellada is the most effective way of getting rid of crabs or lice that I know. It has a pleasant, faint smell, doesn’t sting your balls, labia or arsehole – (but keep well away from eyes or mouth), stops the itching within minutes and as well as killing crabs and their eggs, also gets rid of scabies.


Very tiny little mites which cause intense itching because they burrow into your skin, lay eggs and shit there, causing reddening and tiny blisters over their tunnels. Scabies are easily caught through sexual contact. Infected ‘bed-mates’ should be treated, if you’ve got CRABS or SCABIES. Lice from domestic animals are NOT attracted to man and mites from cats and dogs may invade man’s skin but cannot continue their life-cycle there. So don’t blame Rover or Tibbs! Writing this has made me feel itchy, so I’m off to have a good look …

Roundhead or Cavalier

A gay male has many roles to enact during his existence upon this earth. For example the pretence of normality in the company of heterosexuals, and his appearance, physically and mentally, with his fellow gays. His main attribute is the thing between his legs that plays such an important part in his make-up, and comes under many varied titles and headings ie dick, tool, weapon, etc. This comes in many varieties, large, small, thick, thin, with foreskin, circumcised — many permutations of these are available. There seems to be varying ideas and thoughts as to whether circumcision is better or not, but it is usually agreed that it is more hygienic and makes personal hygiene easier.

There are, however, certain instances where the growth of the foreskin lags behind and does not follow the same rate as the penis. This prevents the foreskin being drawn back easily and subjects you to discomfort during sex, not to add that personal cleanliness can suffer.

For some unknown reason gay persons with this complaint rarely seek advice or medical help, in fact I too was reluctant to obtain help until a friend who had been in the same situation as myself had just come out of hospital after having a circumcision operation. Because of his help and persuasion, together with his recent knowledge and explanation of all that was involved, I too am now the proud owner of a new cock.

The operation itself lasts for only about thirty minutes under a general anaesthetic and the stay in hospital lasts only three or four days. When you return from hospital careful attention has to be paid to certain aspects to ensure a quick return to circulation. Loose fitting clothing has to be worn for about two weeks, bathing twice daily in salt water and the changing of dressings was all quite simple. The only pain experienced is during the first two or three erections but after this only slight discomfort is felt. When the last of the soluble stitches has disappeared the wound heals very quickly and the new weapon now starts to take on its new shape. Trying out your new toy cannot be hurried, but after about a month we both found after comparing notes that we had at the same time tried a little wank.

Progression after this comes in gradual stages but about two months after the operation, all is back to normal, excuse the pun! When I think back that for years I put off having the operation, and with the knowledge that I now have, I can only say that any readers with the same problem should go to their doctor and get advice. The operation itself is not pleasant, and you will suffer discomfort, plus the fact that you’ll be off the scene for a while, but believe me I wouldn’t have my foreskin back even for a night in with Steve McQueen.

The writer of this piece has requested to remain anonymous but has offered to help any genuine person whom he can assist with any further details from his own personal experiences. Any correspondence will be forwarded to him by Gay News. Write to Box R/C, c/o Gay News, 19 London Street, London W2 1HL

Gay Women and VD

A Personal Experience

I first rang the hospital to check the times of opening and was told that the Special clinic stayed open until 6.30 pm. to allow for people to attend after work. So we arrived there in the middle of the afternoon to avoid the rush. For anyone who is trying to be discreet about attending a Venereal Disease clinic, they might become embarrassed as they find huge notices SPECIAL CLINIC outside the building. So any passers-by that might be watching know full well what you have been up to.

On entering we registered with a very nice receptionist taking note that “Men” one side, “Women” the other. You are then given a little orange card with a number on. It is important you don’t lose this as you are called by number and not name. We then went to the Social Worker’s office, who took us to the Nurse in charge and we were asked to sit down and wait in line with other women. Giving everybody plenty of time for thought as to what each and all have been doing. About 10 minutes later our numbers were called, the voice coming out of a little letter box by a door. So we went in to see our Doctors and I was asked “What symptoms have you got and who and when did I last have intercourse with?” I took a deep breath and told him I hadn’t had intercourse with a man, but sexual relations with a woman. Fast and furious scribblings took place on my notes! More questions about symptoms and then I was put into a little room, whereupon I was asked to remove my underwear. During which time three female nurses charged in for a chat, I wondered what my Doctor had been saying about me. I couldn’t help wondering if they were homosexual too. Just as I finished having my tests done – these being painless but uncomfortable, I saw the doctor whom my colleague was attending, rush in to see my Doctor, have a few words and nodding of the head and rush out again. After the internal examinations I got dressed and went into another corridor for a blood test. There I met my colleague sitting stony faced and obviously annoyed.

It appears her Doctor had asked “What is the problem?” and she answered “No problem. I am here with my girl friend who is having a check up.” “Have you had intercourse?” “I have not” she replied. “Oh! Have you had sexual contact with your friend?” “Yes” she says. He then got up, went out of the room, came back about five minutes later then asked her to get ready for the internal examinations. This caused her great concern and she hesitated at the realisation of what she had to go through. He may be a Doctor, but he was still a male. She therefore froze during the examination, making it more difficult. When he finished he went back to the file and wrote HOMOSEXUAL across it. Now she is not ashamed of being homosexual, but she was quite right in saying that he need not have been so blatant about it. So that the nurses, social worker, receptionist and whoever else might have access to the file would read it and would cause her embarrassment if she had to return again. In order to follow this visit through we telephoned for our results a few days later. Relieved to report that they were both negative. To be fair, it was a well-run clinic and cancer smears were also taken so even if you are a female homosexual do not be put off going there if you need to. After all you are attending a special clinic and we are classed, are we not, by society as something special.

How Liberal We Are

“One In Twenty” By Brian Magee

Anyone who is not a positive nut-case can see easily enough through the filth of Reuben’s squalid and shameful little book. The array of vegetables and kitchen utensils supposedly used in sex is so absurd that one can only feel happy the street theatre of G.L.F. in one of its less crazy moments guyed this pernicious nonsense.

But Brian Magee’s book is couched in seemingly such reasonable terms, I feel like adapting to it the term of Mark Antony in his funeral oration over Caesar “but Brutus is an honourable man, all honourable men.” How sorry he is for a poor homosexual who cannot bring his love to a B.B.C. or television House party or dance. Why the hell not! He goes to “gay” clubs, spends the evening there and reaches the amazing realisation that, after all, this love is not unnatural and abnormal.

Whenever I see the word “normal” my hackles rise. As someone fairly proficient in existentialist and phenomenologist types of thinking, I believe that abstract universal do not apply to any concrete and particular individual. A tree, a book, a shoe is nothing but itself. Man, on the other hand, is a combination of choices, each unique and gratuitous. There is no universal precedent for right action, because all actions are unique and singular outcomes of choice.

Brian Magee so generously deplores the fact that there are no serious homosexuals. I need not embarass my readers by quoting examples to the opposite from twenty civilisations. Is he so happy not to be Leonardo, or MichelAngelo, or Plato, or Winckelmann, or Christopher Marlowe, or, in more modern times, Proust, Gide, Cocteau? What is, in fact, remarkable is not how few serious homosexuals there are but how vast in every significant field of achievement their contribution to art, science, music, the theatre, ballet and philosophy is!

He is patronising to such an extent that he seems never to have realised either that every woman has a masculine side (ANIMUS) and every man a feminine side (ANIMA). He seems to have no idea of the incidence of homosexuality in all primitive as well as advanced cultures, nor sub-cultures nor all species from self-pollinating plants up to the anthropoids. How much wiser Goethe was who said far from being a perversion, homosexuality in its noble-love and ideal friendship went a long way to accounting for the glory of Greece and the greatness of Rome.

But Magee is even more vicious when, seeming so compassionate, he deplores that so many of his friends endure the degradation of cruising and cottaging. Since the Law forbids homosexuals to contact each other and noble Welfare workers have organised clubs and societies where they can meet even if they are at present breaking an insane law, it is because they care for human beings not to express, as Magee does, the gladness of being heterosexual.

More vicious still, this loathsome and repulsive book, the only book I have ever destroyed because of its underhand hostility marked by generous concern, is as repulsive as a film like “Detective” which theoretically attacks homosexual persecution but shows every homosexual in the film as a chronic or potential psychopath or the sort of fairy that no homosexual I know, certainly not myself, would look at twice. Out and out lunatics like Reuben are easy to deal with; but people like Magee are the real enemy. They want to present us as shallow frivolous moral morons but they put it in such charming, apparently reasonable terms that one friend of mine became through reading the Magee book so hostile to homosexuals saying “he deals with the average sort, not the few geniuses,” it provoked in me a real sense of waste. Above all, beware of the enemy posing as a liberal.