Paddy Almond, Pornographer

1978 (13 YEARS OLD)1 month ago

1978 (13 YEARS OLD)

I went to our town’s Catholic secondary school, Blessed George Napier, and because it was a Catholic school in England, most of the students had some Irish in them (myself included). So naturally, a sizeable number of the boys were named Patrick. Actually, Paddy.

And while most of us were referred to by our first names or a nickname, the Patricks always were called by their full name. How else was everybody (teachers included) able to distinguish Paddy Flynn from Paddy O’Neill from Paddy Fitzpatrick from Paddy Kelly from Paddy Walsh?

Our class, however, was unique, in that we only had one Patrick: Paddy Almond.

And Paddy Almond had a much sought after talent; he was the best porn artist out of the lot of us. He was also very entrepreneurial.

So he would sit in RE (Religious Education), quietly producing his nudes, while Sister Cecilia tried to reconcile unequivocal love with eternal damnation.

Paddy had a flexible pricing scheme, based on the concept of how much do you have? It was usually between 3p and 5p.

And so we were introduced to the concept of opportunity cost. Buying art meant forgoing a Curly Wurly.

Besides his art, Paddy Almond was also known for his remarkable resemblance to Jimmy Pursey, the lead singer of Sham 69. And it became common for impatient patrons of the arts to sing,

C’mon, C’mon

Hurry Up Paddy

C’mon

So we we’re in RE, writing an essay, probably something along the lines of “10 Things I’ll Miss When I’m Burning In Hell,” while Paddy Almond was working on a commission for John O’Brien (No Curly Wurly that day, eh John?).

Without warning Sister Cecilia was suddenly standing in front of Paddy Almond’s desk, snatching his art and marching him out of the classroom door. Probably to the office of the terrifying Deputy Headmaster to the Boys, Mr. Cousins.

And so died an era.

It was generally believed that Rita Reynolds, the consummate busybody, had told Sister Cecilia about Paddy Almond’s venture. We would have have ostracised “Wita Weynolds” (she had rhotacism) for being a tattletale, but we had already done that long before.

It wasn’t the same after Paddy Almond’s operation was shut down. I tried my hand at my own sex drawings, but the women all ended up looking like elderly transvestites. So I gave up.

That, and I came home from school one day to find one such drawing carefully placed on the mantlepiece by my mum.