Es-sex Boys

Wowie TOWIE! Years of jokes and recent ‘reality TV’ have only put the sex back into Essex claims Bent’s own local lush Adrian Gillan, returning to his out-grown peroxide roots.

 How do Essex boys turn the light off after sex? They shut the car door. What makes Dagenham Dave’s eyes light up? A torch shone in his ear.

 From Stansted to Southend: few peoples throughout history can have endured the torrent of abuse rained upon Essex Boy and Girl over recent decades. Guys like me – Essex born and bred – only survived those long, dark years by laughing all the louder at the uptight, soulless neo-Thatcherites looking for scapegoats, as they chuckled and guffawed at supposed herds of white-socked Neanderthals in Shermans humping brain-dead air-head sl*gs in white Ford Capris down Lakeside.

And we can scarce stop grinning now – now that this fairytale has actually matured into a mythical brand with balls, with cred.

“Where are you from?” he asks.

“Essex. And you?” I reply defiantly, my smile scarce stifling the yawn on hearing he’s from Worcestershire, Staffordshire, Herefordshire or some other faceless shire I’ve hardly heard of, let alone placed on a map.

How ironic: Essex is now endowed with an identity strong enough to make the Scots and Welsh – nay even your Yorkshiremen – quake in their glens, valleys and dales. Watch out Geordies! Forget cultureless crass: you’ve just ended up making us funny, feisty, raw and – ultimate style prize – sexy!

“Yeah, I love telling guys I’m from Essex,” 18-year old Chelmsford-born Ben tells Bent. “It breaks the ice straight off. I think lots of guys I meet find it a bit of a turn on, especially if they’ve never had an Essex lad before. Once they’ve stopped laughing they’re just staring at your crotch.”

Pay day! So it seems you’ve only gone and put the sex back into Essex. We got it, you want it. You want what you made us: the loud, wild and hopelessly horny “Essex Lad”, the supreme hybrid chav’d-up cross between a hormonal street kid and some cute, straight-acting boy next door. And accept no imitations: take a field trip out onto the rural Essex scene. Turn off TOWIE! You can’t beat the real thing!

“I think the media have helped give Essex back its cool,” contends 21-year old Romfordian bar babe Sam, coming to terms with his newfound status. “The likes of Jamie Oliver and Denise Van Outen show you no longer have to hide the fact you’re from Essex.”

Carps he: “So-called ‘Essex Boy fashion’ has ended up in clubs and across the gay scene: guys in sportswear, caps, Adidas and trainers. All those 80s retro ‘ESSEX BOY!’ T-shirts! So it can’t all be bad. Better than looking like some stuck-up charmless, sexless Wallpaper ponce!”

Oh yes, we’re definitely out and about now: proud to be gay, proud to be Essex. So you see boys, the last laugh’s on us. Sorry, where did you say you were from?