If you’re ever stuck with jury duty, you could do a lot worse than sit as peers in judgment of The Case of the Perstreperous Pestorking:

A British woman has lost her appeal against a ban on her noisy sex sessions, after a court heard how her marathon romps that kept neighbours awake sounded like someone being murdered.

Caroline and Steve Cartwright’s “howling” lovemaking sounded “unnatural”, “hysterical” and “like they are both in considerable pain”, Newcastle Crown Court in north-east England heard.

A 10-minute recording of their sex sessions was played in court, which also heard how she tried covering her face with a pillow to muffle her cries of passion.

You might ask how such a recording was obtained, and why it didn’t include video. And while we may never know the latter, it seems the local council set up “special equipment” in the neighbor’s flat to get the official reading of 30 to 40 decibels of pleasure, peaking at 47 during Very Special Moments.

That’s not only loud enough to drown out the telly — it’s enough to unnerve “passers-by and the postman.”

But what makes this a classic entry in the Annals of Prurient Jurisprudence is the nature of the case: the conviction was appealed under human-rights laws.

Noisy lover loses sex appeal [Sydney Morning Herald, via CheapBoy]

I think these people should be paid by the NHS to give sex lessons throughout the UK and be knighted for their efforts.

Since when is the 47-decibel Very Special Moment not a human right? I call shenanigans on the repressive New World Order.

Real savage pestorking doesn’t start until at least 50 db.

Did anybody check to see if they were just watching Fox News? Look at these descriptions from the article:
“It’s just quite unnatural.
“The noise sounds like they are both in considerable pain.
“I cannot describe the noise. Totally excessive and I have never, ever heard anything like it.
“I put my television in my bedroom on as loud as it could go and they drown it out.”
“I heard a male voice howling loudly, which I felt was very unnerving.”
“hysterical, almost continuous, just screaming”.
“I found it very disturbing and I noted that it sounded like she was being murdered.”

Sounds like Fox to me.

@Dave H: Specifically, the Glenn Beck show. hysterical, almost continuous, just screaming.

She’s not bluffin’ with her muffin.

I gots to say, the great thing about marriage and complete comfort with ones partner, and even middle age, and not giving a fuck and being so beyond embarrassment and prudery, is that screaming is good. I have to confess, I am a screamer. That strange, silly, “O-face” that young people are sometimes embarrassed about, that strange face, I think, is a result of bottling up one’s natural inclination to howl like a wolf at the full moon.

Not I. I’m a, uh, grunter/groaner.

In university, I lived in a coed house in 3rd year with paper thin walls. My female housemate who lived next to me was one of the quietest people having sex ever. Her boyfriend was very expressive and whenever they had sex, I would end up sleeping on the couch because of him.

i’ve got a good one. ratbastard is a major screamer. why we never have neighbors. we attended my dad’s 70th birthday party in southampton, 10 years ago. we were together less than a year at that point and so were doing it it 3 times a day. with the party in full force on the lawn, the kitchen buzzing with the regular help and the caterers, we ducked into the shower of the guest house. as i was trying to stuff a washcloth down his throat, the door bursts open and half the party was in the bathroom looking at the naked goofs in the shower. later, photo albums came out and the one that was passed around for chuckles was one from his 65th at tavern on the green. where a lovely shot was caught of me splayed across a table, arms and legs akimbo, yet clutching a bottle of champagne. i am not invited to any more of his parties. seriously.

@baked: I love you, darlin’. Fearless and forthright!

…and i thought it was my downfall…

hey, i’ve been paging you all over the intertubes…there is a question for you i need the answer to…see ya in the sandbox.

the detail i ommitted made it even more wonderful. the party took place 4th of july and everyone was instructed to dress in red white and blue, making the scene we were looking at from the shower HEE-larious, like the color guard came in to arrest us. they looked more ridiculous than us. (these people LOVE theme parties.) i, of course wore a simple navy blue cotten knit sheath, when i was clothed. ok, and red shoes.

ooh ooh, red shoes. i got a pair of FABulous red shoes in jerusalem from the new store in new york. fashionista’s take note: the line is called “irregular choice” love the name, lerve the shoes. check it out!

@baked: i, of course wore a simple navy blue cotten knit sheath, but of course you did, darling.

And these red shoes you had on, when you clicked ’em together three times they took you where exactly?

Very funny.

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