Yes! Definitely! Without a doubt! Women are evil!
Obviously I don’t mean that all women are evil. Or that there’s a scientifically proven correlation between gender and genocide, hairspray and homicide, and that a person’s ownership of wibbly bits, wobbly parts and waggling baps, flaps and waps, somehow defines how much the other half of the population should fear them - although it usually does. Married men, just wink if you agree?
No, it’s just that some women are evil. And that’s a fact. Women like Myra Hindley, Aileen Wuornos and Maggie Thatcher, etc, etc, I rest my case. Some women are evil.
Just like some men are evil. Men like Hitler, and Stalin, and Pol-Pot, and Bin Laden, and Bush, and Blair, and Bush Snr, and 87% of the world’s maximum security prison population, 92% of all the murderers on Death Row, as well as possibly 99.8% of all military despots, coked-up crackpots, delusional deities, plonker-out philanderers, whacked-out warlords, sex pests, sadists, serial killers, and at least half (if not all) of the Eton-educated Tory backbench.
Yup! Looking at it that way… men are maybe, probably, definitely a teeny bit disproportionately more suspiciously evil than women. But hey! That doesn’t mean “all men are evil”, right? I mean, every fruit bowl has at least one bad apple. That’s just how life is; for every corn-on-the-cob there’s a mange tout, for every pair of “monthly moody fat pants” there’s an “impossibly painful dental-floss thong”, and for every sane person there’s someone who still watches Hollyoaks. Security!
Face it! Some people - whether women or men - are just evil.
But…? And (like something akin to two ham-hocks badly parked in a pair of tight-fitting summer lycra leggings) it’s a “BIG but”… when I posed the hypothesis “are women evil?” It wasn't the dribbling, drooling, stool-smearing, fiery fruit-loops with the glazed-over eyes, razor-sharp talons, venomous tongues and an always handy axe in her handbag, whose jackets are sewn from her ex-husband’s skin, with his gouged-out eyes toyed with like marbles, his sliced-off lips solely to stub out her ciggies on, and a coin purse fashioned out of his severed scrotum. No! Not those women. I'm talking about the everyday regular women.
“Are those women evil?” Because if they aren't, why else would a whopping 83% of all the customers on Murder Mile Walks’ guided tour of Soho’s most infamous murders - hailed as “definitely London’s best murder walk” with FIVE STAR REVIEWS on TripAdvisor and Timeout – why would 83% of all customers be women?
(Michael clears his throat, whistles nonchalantly, and hopes that no-one noticed that cunning bit of subliminal advertising that he casually just crow-barred in there).
I mean, yes, Murder Mile Walks are…
If “women weren't evil”, why else would they willingly book themselves (using the rather convenient widget at www.murdermiletours.com with no booking fee or registration required - wink) on an intensive two hour, gut-wrenching, nerve-shredding, rollicking roller-coaster ride of Soho’s most grisly, gruesome and generally most shocking killings? I mean, hello! What kind of weirdo spends their spare time taking a leisurely stroll through Soho, latte in hand, casually chit-chatting about dismemberment, disposal, death, and finding fun in social lives of sadists such as Britain’s most notorious serial killer Dennis Nilsen, Soho’s very own “Jack the Ripper” Gordon Frederick Cummins alias “The Blackout Ripper” and child-murderer William Bousfield, as they visit actual ‘real’ murder sites? Apart from me, obviously.
That’s right! Women! 83% of them.
Therefore, women must be evil? Right? Well, I'm not sure. To answer this question, let’s delve a little deeper into why women might be evil… based on the fact that 83% of women absolutely LOVE Murder Mile Walks. And, come on, why wouldn't they?
(Right, if you've already guessed that this is an advert posing as an article, and have enjoyed it so far, please read on. If you haven’t, you've probably left me a comment below stating that “this is disgusting!” having not bothered to read beyond the headline, or realised that it’s just a joke, and (if I don't mind saying) a fabulous bit of spin for Murder Mile Walks, tickets available via www.murdermiletours.com for the bargain price of just £15pp. That 83% statistic though? That is true. Yeah, I know! Scary, huh?)
“Women love a good murder… because they’re sadists at heart?” – Sadists? Hmm, I don’t know. Malicious? Yes. Cruel? Yes. Downright devious? Definitely. But sadists? No. Statistically women rarely commit murders, because (a) they’re too clever, (b) they've got better things to do, and (c) although not as physically strong as men - apparently, they know they could easily kill one with merely a look, a word, a silence, a huff or a tut, and that they don’t even need to be in the same room as you to cause your heart to stop, throat the dry up, your breathing to cease, and you willy to shrivel up, turning your sizeable knob into a worn-down nub (just like the little pink rubber tip on the top of a HB2 pencil – although, for some men, that would be an improvement. Am I right ladies?).
“Women love a good murder… because they’re used to blood and gore?” – Well, compared to men, women are made of much stronger stuff. Not only do women give birth, bleed for days on end every single month, but their lives revolve around an endless stream of stripping, waxing, plucking, shaving, crimping, curling, starving, scraping, dying, drying and dousing themselves in the world’s most caustic chemicals, just so they can look less like themselves… for somebody else. Hmm. So maybe, having endured all this, for so many years, women simply love the idea of someone else being tortured for no good reason? And who can blame them, right? But the average man, he passes out at the sight of a splinter, a drop of blood from his sphincter, and if you dare even mention him producing anything larger than a growth-stunted atom out of his urethra, he’s on the floor, wailing like a baby. (Michael breathes deeply, flushed, sweaty, “okay, I’m going to need to lie down now, I’m feeling a bit woozy, having… mentioned… periods….” THUD!)
“Women love murder walks… as it gives them ideas on how to knock off their partner?” – Now, although many men who nervously accompany their wife/girlfriend/partner/boss/handler (delete as approp’) on a Murder Mile Walk believe this to be the case, it’s simply untrue. I mean, yes, women do ask the vast majority of questions on the walk (mostly about strangling, stabbing, stripping a corpse in an acid bath, the reliability of carbon-fibre brakes, and how best to shred a prenuptial agreement), but that’s just because women like being engaged. No pun intended. And although stories about cheaters getting their comeuppance by having their knackers bitten off by a Chiwawa hidden in a handbag, a woman would never willingly copy someone else’s murder, instead opting to put her own personal stamp on it – like skewered a stiletto through his scrotum. (Ladies, you can have that one for free, if you haven’t thought of it already? Oh! You have!)
No! Actually, it’s none of the above.
Women are not evil.
Even though, if you look at the photographs in Murder Mile Walks’ gallery, when every much loved and truly valued customer is asked to adopt a “murder pose” – whether stabbing, shooting, hanging, etc – women are the ones most likely to choose to simulate strangling their partners. No.
Women are not evil.
83% of Murder Mile Walks customers are women because… women have incredibly high standards when it comes to entertainment, they have a great sense of value, and are born with an inherent love of fantastic story-telling, gripping characters, with a wonderful mix of intrigue, mystery, suspense, culture, humour, art, culture, and basically all the really clever stuff. Unlike men*, who are nothing more than shaved monkeys who like beer, tits and sport. And not necessarily in that order.
And that, is why women LOVE Murder Mile Walks.
Not because “women are evil”…
...but because they are amazing! **
Michael J Buchanan-Dunne is a writer, crime historian and tour-guide who runs Murder Mile Walks, a guided tour of Soho’s most notorious (and often forgotten) murder cases, featuring 18 murderers, 3 serial killers, over 21 locations, totalling 75 deaths, over just a one mile walk.
* This statistic excludes the 17% of Murder Mile Walks’ valued customers who are men… and who are awesome.
** Hmm, a slightly grovely end there Michael, if anything it was a little bit too crawly-bum-lick. But hey, I like living.
But for each “King”, on every street; life was as dangerous as it was short, and often messy. During the 50’s and 60’s, Italian-born “King of Sleaze” Anthony Mella ran most of Soho’s hostess clubs. As his name suggests, “Big Tony” was tall and muscular, he was an ex-boxer who sparred with the infamous enforcer for The Richardson Gang - “Mad Frankie Fraser”, and was feared and respected.
In 1963, “Big Tony” bought the Grill Club at 48 Dean Street, which he renamed The Bus Stop. It comprised of a law-abiding café on the ground floor, a drinking den serviced by scantily clad ladies in the basement, and comfortable offices above for himself and the club’s manager, his life-long friend, Alfred Melvin.
But on January 28th 1963, at eleven fifteen pm, “Big Tony” burst through this door (see photo to right) and staggered into Dean Street, having been shot three times in back; the first bullet punctured his lung, the second ripped through his stomach - his hand struggling to stem the blood flow - and the third nicked a small hole in his heart. He collapsed just shy of Romilly Street, and died face down in the gutter.
Inside the club, Tony’s best friend, Alfred Melvin lay dead; a skilful single gunshot had blasted a hole through his head, blowing his brains up their newly decorated wall.
Police suspected this was the work of rival gangsters hoping to muscle in on Big Tony’s patch. When questioned, a waiter at The French House said he’d heard shouting, followed by four loud pops. At Melvin’s feet, the killer had dropped a small calibre Browning pistol, and with fingerprints on the butt & trigger, this confirmed their suspicions. But, as the Police were reminded by anyone who knew the two, no-one was stupid enough to take on “Big Tony”. No-one. Or so you’d think?
Upon examination, in the breast pocket of Alfred Melvin’s jacket, Police found a hastily scrawled note, detailing to his wife how he pressed “Big Tony” into repaying a £400 debt, as Tony, now flush, had the funds to afford it, but had refused, and had humiliated Alfred Melvin in front of the hostesses. In a fit of anger, Alfred shot his best friend three times in the back, then fearing retaliation, turned the gun on himself.
But... in a rare act of forgiveness, Tony’s wife sent a wreath to Melvin’s funeral and visa-versa. But before either of their husbands were even buried, “Big Tony’s” patch had already been carved up, and a new “King of Sleaze” was crowned. Life went on, and soon, both men were forgotten.
Michael J Buchanan-Dunne is a writer, crime historian and tour-guide who runs Murder Mile Walks, a guided tour of Soho’s most notorious (and often forgotten) murder cases, featuring 18 murderers, 3 serial killers, across 21 locations, totalling 75 deaths, over just a one mile walk.
Michael J Buchanan-Dunne is a crime writer, podcaster & tour guide of Murder Mile Walks, hailed as one of the best "quirky curious & unusual things to do in London".
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Note: This blog contains only licence-free images or photos shot by myself in compliance with UK & EU copyright laws. If any image breaches these laws, blame Google Images.