As I approach the schoolyard gates, a flutter of starry-eyed children convulse toward me. Tongues, dallying in expectation they chant "oh, Uncle Spengler, do show us another picture of your wife gynaecological innards, our tadgers love them so!" Sure as the day is long, I whip out my latest procurement; a nude pictorial of my wife legs akimbo, spread as widely as the confines of her wheelchair would allow. The sight of the blood draining to their fledgling erections is something my camcorder will never tire of.