A Berkshire man has made extraordinary claims that radio stations are deliberately broadcasting smut and sexual innuendo, in attempt to force him into committing lewd acts. According to twenty two year old Jimmy Nooles, his life has been turned into a living hell by the broadcasters, whose transmissions are forcing him into having unwanted erections and ejaculations. “Have you any idea what it is like to have a huge, trouser-straining erections for hours on end,” he asks, “or to be in a permanent state of horniness, your testicles on the verge of exploding like a bomb?” The unemployed former cucumber salesman claims that for a while this continuous bombardment with sexually-charged radio waves made him a virtual prisoner in his Tilehurst home, fearing that he would be forced into committing serious sexual offences if he ventured outside. “My life became an endless round of masturbation in dimly lit rooms,” he laments. “Trust me, whacking off over internet porn was the only way I could safely sate the unnatural urges they were stirring in me with their broadcasts!” Indeed, his behaviour became so bizarre that his mother had a nervous breakdown and fled the house. She is now living under a motorway flyover just outside Reading. Nooles claims that his harassment via the airwaves has been going on for several years. “I first noticed it when I was in my teens – I was listening to Sara Cox on the Radio One Breakfast Show in my pyjamas one morning,” he explains, “when I distinctly heard her say that she wanted to take a ‘hard mouthful’ and ‘suck my sugar stick’! I immediately felt something stirring and looked down to see this huge stalk on! It was really embarrassing – my mother was right there in the room with me! She got an eye full as I fled from the kitchen, my pyjama bottoms flapping open!” Further instances occurred, including one occasion when the DJ told him to stick his huge hard on through the letter box, just as the postman was making a delivery. “The electricity bill ended up spiked on by knob,” says Nooles. “The poor postie refused to deliver anything to us for months after that.” Tired of Sara Cox’s constantly talking dirty to him, Nooles elected to change stations for his breakfast listening, switching to BBC Radio Two. “At first it was OK, then one morning my mother walked into the kitchen to find me having sex with the vacuum cleaner – as I ejaculated, it exploded. She was very upset – she’d had that vacuum cleaner for years,” a distraught Nooles recalls. “It wasn’t my fault though – Terry Wogan told me to do it. I distinctly heard him telling me to switch on the hoover and give it a good seeing to, just before the farming report.”

Despite constantly switching stations, Nooles’ problems continued throughout the next few years. “It didn’t matter who I tuned in to, they just kept egging me on to do things. If it wasn’t John Humphreys on Radio Four telling me to expose myself from an upstairs window, it was a Radio Three continuity announcer urging me to stick household objects up my bottom. As for Danny Baker on BBC Radio Five – I can’t even repeat what he wanted me to do,” he says. “”Of course, I just assumed it was those sex-obsessed communists at the BBC, so I tried commercial radio instead.” Sadly, this was to have disastrous consequences. Whilst out jogging, listening on his walkman to Simon Bates on Classic FM, Nooles found himself arrested for indecent exposure. “How was I to know that woman was going to walk past, just as I was trying to disentangle my huge bonk on from my track suit bottoms?” he asks. “But the police just wouldn’t listen when I told them that it was Bates’ syrupy tones going on about how whacking off over a huge pair of melons which had caused the whole incident!” Released with a caution and placed on a court-ordered course of psychotherapy, Nooles’ problems seemed to subside as he left his teens. “I stopped listening to the radio altogether, and the problem stopped,” he explains. “It was bloody brilliant, I was able to get a job selling cucumbers door-to-door, live a normal life, with no inappropriate erections!” However, eighteen months ago, his wayward penis once again reared its purple head when least desired. “I was just sitting on the bus minding my own business, reading The Sun, when this girl opposite me started screaming and pointing at my lap,” he recalls. “I looked down to see that I had an erection so monstrous that it had burst out of my trousers!” This time, Nooles hadn’t been listening to the radio. “But when I thought about it, I felt sure that I’d still heard someone whispering in my ear, telling me to imagine the girl opposite naked, her breasts smothered in whipped cream,” he says. “It sounded a bit like that Jo Whiley off of Radio One – she’d have been on air about then!” Once again, the police refused to believe Nooles, and he found himself serving a three month prison sentence for indecent exposure and placed on the Sex Offenders Register.

On his release, Nooles found himself increasingly afflicted by the disembodied voices, which seemed to follow Radio One’s schedule. “It was no accident that this latest attack coincided with an increase in digital radio broadcasts,” he muses. “As more digiboxes were sold and more stations started digital broadcasts, my problems got worse. Some days I could barely walk for the massive and painful erections I was having. It wasn’t unusual for me to ejaculate in my underpants when that filthy bastard Chris Moyles was on air.” Convinced that the broadcasters were now beaming their perverse radio waves directly into his head, Nooles decided to take action to protect himself from the evil radio waves. “I tried wearing one of those tinfoil hats. I thought it would be worth the ridicule if it stopped these damned erections,” he says. “But it had no effect. Then it dawned on me – it wasn’t my brain they were beaming that filth to; it was going direct to my genitals!” Nooles’ solution was simple – he wrapped his penis and scrotum with baking foil. “It is such a relief,” he sighs. “The radio waves just bounce off of my cock now, which remains flaccid all day long.” The foil wrap isn’t without its drawbacks. “On really hot days my meat and two veg do begin to literally roast – you can hear them sizzling,” he reveals. “The other day it got so painful that I had to unwrap them in a cafe and prick my cock with a fork to release the pressure and stop it from exploding! Still, it is a very small price to pay for peace of mind.” Nooles is now taking out an injunction against both BBC and commercial radio stations to try and stop them from broadcasting their filth to his genitalia. “I’ve written to them all hundreds of times, but they just deny it,” he rages. “Well, enough is enough! I’m going to have my day in court! I’ll prove what they’re doing, even if I have to whip my cock out in front of the judge and jury and show them what happens to it when I tune my transistor radio to Scott Mills!”