No sex please, we're English

It's now just seven days until I leave England and emigrate to Canada, and not a moment too soon. My beloved England has become a filth-pit; a sordid, despoiled writhing mass of cretinous wretches, clawing at each others clothes, seeking the pleasures of the flesh.

"Surely not England!" I hear you cry. Oh yes, England! And nowhere more so than in my home town of Kenilworth.

"Adult website recommends Crackley Lane lay-bys as good meeting place for gay men and married couples."

Yes that's is the front page. Who would have thought it - English people having sex in woods? In May of all seasons!

"Hundreds of men, women, and children go off to the woods and groves and spend all the night in pastimes, and in the morning return with birch boughs and branches of trees to deck their assembles withall....I have heard it credibly reported by men of great gravity that, of a hundred maids going to the woods, there have scarcely the third part of them returned home again as they went."

And in case anyone is wondering the editorial does not explain why gay men want to meet married couples in the woods. I'm quite sure that I can expect a better standard of behaviour in Canada.