DG's Fairy Tales

(Fri 16th Apr 2010, 12:40, More)

Brought to you by DG Games...

(Thu 28th Aug 2008, 13:34, More)

Most powerful keyboard in the world...

(Fri 12th Oct 2007, 11:34, More)

Cock Knee

(Tue 8th May 2007, 14:00, More)

Chinstrap The Duck #24
Because I'm a pobber. Cheers!


(Tue 13th Mar 2007, 13:37, More)

Rar

(Mon 26th Sep 2005, 14:31, More)

Chinstrap #6
What can I say...he's sick!


(Tue 18th Jan 2005, 15:38, More)

Chinstrap #5


#4
#3
#2
#1
(Thu 13th Jan 2005, 14:16, More)

I wish these existed...
Musical Cards for people you don't like...


(Fri 17th Dec 2004, 15:20, More)

thief!
woot, first postage...




(Fri 23rd May 2003, 17:05, More)

» Cars

My story...
I was driving down the road the other day when I saw some guy standing on the corner around some kids, looking really shifty.

I noticed he palmed some massive drugs into a kid’s hand, now I’ve got a long fuse but this was now personal, no one does this in my neck of the woods. I did a handbrake turn in my Accord and drove towards the child only to swerve at the very end and knock the bag of meow meow heroin out of his hand with my spoiler.

The drug dealer was in shock and started screaming at me, obviously not noticing the Honda badge. I now started doing doughnuts in the road with caustic rage. I charged towards him, and pressed the brakes so hard that I front flipped the car, pinning him against the shutters of the nearest newsagents.

I got out of my car but he got out a knife and tried to stab me which I deflected with my Honda keyring, then my 2 years of Taekwondo classes kicked in and did a triple roundhouse kick, catching him sweetly on the head, making all his limbs break.

He was trying to crawl away but I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and pulled him towards the Accord and said to him “KISS THE VTEC STICKERS… NOW!” he did whilst crying and pissed all in the gutters.

“Now, get out of my sight!” I said, getting into my car, I was about to burn out when I noticed in the corner of my eye 3 supermodels, all just looking whilst wobbling their fannies at me.

“We saw what you just did, we think you’re so cool and want to look at your penis” so I let them and they all laughed with fright at its masterful size. One tried to hold it and winced instantly. “Oh god, you’re the best man I’ve ever slept with even though I haven’t slept with you yet.” said the 2nd supermodel girl. The 3rd had passed out with lust and done a gush so fierce that she knocked over a bin 20 meters down the street.

They all jumped in the back seats of the HA and we drove off back to my penthouse and we had the sex and played my custom game of dungeons and dragons whilst drinking home brew until the early morning. The End.

Cheers
(Mon 26th Apr 2010, 17:01, More)

» Public Transport Trauma

This from /talk a few years ago...
A story on the Underground

This happened this morning, I hope this is the right place to share plus it seems quite slow today, hope it's not too long.

My life is just one massive joke, everything stupid happens to me. 100% True story, written by me.

I’m a nice guy usually but an arsehole in the morning on the trains.

So I got down to the Central Line station this morning for there only to be massive delays, severe to the point of instant death if I stepped onto the platform. I had to turn around and walk back a mile up to Ruislip Manor. Oh how a man in cowboy boots can stomp up the road when angry.

So I got to the station, onto the platform with many other people, trying to guess where the train doors were going to stop. I know where they stop, FEAR MY UNDERGROUND KNOWLEDGE! Muahaha…ha…hold on what’s this, so does another bloke with a dirty suit! We are both hovering, around where the best empty seats are.

The train pulls in and I notice a solemn Metro on a seat, so does Chunky McSweatsuit. The doors swing open and we are both onto the train like greyhounds from the traps, I tread like a cat and intercept his lumbering feet with my cowboy boots and sit down on the empty seat, window else, and grab the paper, 3-0 to me! VICTORY! It’s the little things…

I feel great, Chunky McSweatsuit notices how I’m smiling like a French woman with a new face transplant (ie keeping it to myself) so decides to sit next to me and try and read the paper over my shoulder, bad move buddy.

I notice that he looks like a sports fan, I hover over the front page and then straight to the cricket scores, he peers in closer trying to see, bingo. I stay on the cricket bending it towards him so he can get a good view for a good 10 seconds and then POW I flick 12 pages back and to the theatre reviews! HAHA! 4-0! You can’t beat me! I’m now gurgling with glee! :D

I start laughing at myself and how much of a tosser I am, I feel great :D leaning the paper so he can’t even get a good view out the window as I block his light and he withers like a shitty flower :)

I give it 5 minutes and my early morning power trip starts wearing off, I’m starting to feel my usual happy good self again. Then all off a sudden Chunky McSweatsuit starts sniffing and grunting lots of snot and phlegm, refusing to blow and snorting every 20 seconds for the rest of the journey. Damn you…damn you 4-1. A late effort I feel.

So yeah, I get off the Met line and have to go on the Bake a Poo line, deep into the bowels of hell I go, down the escalator of woe and along the platform of crowdedness.

The train arrives and it’s packed, really packed. I notice a man with his belly pressed up against the glass and he looks really unhappy, it was like he ate a St Bernards for dinner last night and forgot to go toilet this morning. I laugh. It’s the little things.

The doors open and I slot myself where there was enough space for me and maybe a midget by my crotch. Then, no fucking shit I kid you not just as the doors were closing a teeny Asian midget slots himself in!! WTF!!

Is god playing a trick on me? I’m not sure whether to love the situation or hate it and freak the fuck out!

So, I’ve got no where to hold onto and the midget’s head is pretty much wedged between touching the plexi glass seat divider and about 1 cm from my belly and ball bag, I’m wearing rather tight trousers too.

As many a commuter will tell you, the section of the Bakerloo line between Baker Street and Oxford Circus is being re fitted and it’s particularly juddery and jerky to the point of falling over most times. As the train pulls away my crotch starts jackhammering the midget in the head against the glass! FUCK! I’m podging a midget in the ear!

I start to panic and try and pull away but all I’m doing is pushing against a woman behind me, I try and keep still but it’s not working and I’m now just rubbing his face left and right like some dirty windscreen wipers. I can see that the midget is cursing his disability with a passion of being born at the level of cock height.

I was starting to feel really bad for this guy and was going to just sidestep him and charge the carriage to the other end to stop this debauchery but what happed next threw that plan out the window. He started holding into my trousers…MY TROUSERS!!!

I’m now doing a Shakin’ Stevens impression to get his grip free but his cabbage like vice grip was having none of it. I was now starting to feel physically sick with the thought of a midget holding onto me as we are forced to make through-clothes love due to Metronets inability to maintain train tracks.

I was now getting desperate as I could feel the morning tosser boiling out of me as this clamped on midget was putting the ‘sensual’ back into ‘nonconsensual’ closeness. I had to think fast. I had no farts in me which would have been genius as I could have just turned 180 and brapped an eggy pop pop in his face for an ‘ummm smell the fresh bread’ bonus but that would be too perfect, but alas, I’m not that lucky.

I only had about 1 minute to go so I started sniffing the door seals trying to get some dust in my nose and get a tickle going so I could let out a huge projectile sneeze on top of the midgets head with added ‘lips spray and stare’ at the end but even though I was contorting my face into various bird impressions, I wasn’t lucky. I was defeated…

The doors opened at oxford circus for me to leap off and never to return, I didn’t even look back to see if the midget had a black eye from where I was inadvertently trying shatter his skill with my private parts.

So hear I am, now at work. 4-12 to the commuters… I hate mornings on the underground.
(Thu 29th May 2008, 15:29, More)

» The Weird Kid In Class

From my mate Alex

I'd like to tell you about a childhood friend of mine, who upon reflection was very strange, but at the time was the best friend a child could have.

His name was Andrew and as well as the psychological peculiarities, he had several strange physical traits as well:

1: His air grew at exactly a 45 degree angle; every hair on his head pointed in the same direction.
2. He walked using toe-heel instead of heel-toe
3 . In times of distress he took comfort by biting his knuckles.

Andrew would only eat boiled carrots peas and mince, and had that for dinner every single night of his life. His parents let him watch 'The Exorcist', 'Predator' and 'Terminator' when he was 11. He shared a bedroom with his older brother, who always slept nude and Andrew nicknamed him 'The Master Blaster'. His bed had bricks under one end, and was covered with a rubber sheet, to allow easy drainage for the frequent times Andrew would piss himself in the night. He said he had a pond in his garden but it was really a Walls ice cream tub filled with rain water and shit where Andrew used to squat over it. He believed the Terminator lived in his dads tool shed and would never go near it. He must have had some mixed up DNA, or given off some kind of pheromones as dogs would chase him wherever he went.

He had a number of trademark phrases that would make Bruce Forsythe ashamed. We all remember them to this day, especially the unique tone and cadence he used when he said them.

In the canteen he would order a "jack-podado...budder 'n' cheese", alternating from a very high to a very low pitch after every 2nd syllable. When excited he would bite his knuckle and sing "ne-ne-ne-ne-neeeeee" repeatedly for hours on end. When he saw a woman with big boobs he would shout "breasts so big as I am". We had another friend whose surname was Keane, and who was a bit chubby, so Andrew used to call him 'Juicy Keaney'. Andrew would sit in class, rubbing his thighs and rocking back and forth, saying with his slight speech impediment 'Juishy Keaney... Juishy Keaney' over and over. One day Juicy Keaney came up to Andrew and said 'if you call me Juicy Keaney one more time, I will rip your arms off and beat you to death with the soggy ends'. Andrew said in a remorseful tone 'don't do dat Juishy Keaney......oopsh'.

Andrew was once indecently assaulted in the alley way behind his home, and I was round his house when he told the police officer about the 'white stuff coming out of the mans willy'. This shouldn't really be funny, it just is.

Andrew genuinely believed he was a ninja, and that it was his destiny to slay the troll population that lived underground in the park. He made a costume which consisted of a pair of swimming goggles with the red and blue lenses from 3D glasses sellotaped into them, black pyjamas, and black gloves, with a big cardboard sign stuck to his back that said DDD. He made this up to stand for 'deadly, dark and dare-some', and he arranged a kind of secret handshake with me, only it was more like semaphore, where we would make signals with our hands and arms whilst saying "triple D". This was the only way to be sure our bodies hadn't been possessed by the spirit of a troll. He frequently used to run around the park trying to find the secret entrance to the troll cave, until he got too scared and pissed himself.

Eventually he moved far away, but I went to visit him years later, wondering if he would have changed at all. When I got to his house he had his pet rat in his pants. Nope, same old Andrew.
(Fri 19th Jan 2007, 10:54, More)

» I didn't do it

1st Mistake
100% True:

I have never done this. Huff huff huff! (As I wink at the computer and make female readers do a Honda Gush)

Apologies for length of my 2.2l Japanese Import Saloon.

Many moons ago, before my penis fell off due to the overware of constantly being solar plexus deep in supermodel virgin muff, I was standing outside Greggs.

This 6ft 6 guy came up to me and without any reason tried to punch me. Luckily my Honda Accord earrings took most of the blow, thus I didn’t drop my Steak Bake.

He said to me “Listen hear you Jive Turkey, You’d better get out a Pappy Joes ‘Ho Go Slow before he pimp slaps you into the time where LP Records will play in an automobile sucka!”

I brushed off my Armani suit with studded detail and said to the wall of meat “Dear fellow, you appear to have ‘crumbed’ my polyester twosie, now …feel…my…WRATH!”

I did a double backflip through the sunroof of my Accord, keyless starting meant I was ready for Justice at the press of a button. I revved the car and let off the hand break, making the car roundhouse the hitman upside the ears and sideboards.

He dropped some massive drugs on the floor… I noticed that they had a label that said “…for kids. Good ones too”…Nothing makes me want to rev my car and have a threesome with a Victoria Secrets model more with rage than a drug dealer who likes to get kids hooked into Meow Meow Woof Woof Bark.

I got out of my car and with one punch I knocked him out twice. I grabbed him by his nose and sucked all of the burps out of his lungs, I then added some more of my burps and then breathed all of this back into him.

This above statement didn’t serve a purpose.

I then pulled him into my Accord, sitting him on the passenger seat whilst screaming “DUAL CLIMATE CONTROL BEEATCH! I KNOW YOU’RE ROASTIN’ RIGHT NOW HOLMES BUT I’M 14c AND COOL AS AN ACCORD’S BOOT LINING!!! NOT GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HONDA YOU FACKIN’ YOGHURT!!!!”

He limped away looking like a sellotape wrapped baby, crying and cursing himself that he chose to try and mug a Honda driver.

By now a large group of supermodels had gathered around my car, curiously moist by what had been occurring. I wound down the windows and flopped my penis out for them all to have a gander and a stroke. I KO’d 4 of them when it twitched like a stretching dog after a 10 hour sleep.

“Jump in girls, it’s Accord Timez! Stereo Volume set to ‘Crumpet’!” I gargled as the massive bass biffed them all up inside their Gucci clad caves, making them flump milm all over the upholstery. “Don’t worry about the stains jutting out of your pobbers, it’s fackin’ leather and wipe clean, Barry Scott has got nothing on me! Bang and your Pelvis is gone! GRAK GRAK GRAK GRAK!”

The supermodels all laughed at my amazing joke and we all drove off into the sunset, Literally. They all set on fire but I was ok because I was driving the Accord, thus making me invisible and a master of Jeet Poon Do.

The End.
(Fri 16th Sep 2011, 15:29, More)

» Sleepwalking

Got a great one
I woke up to hear some stranger noises coming from downstairs at an old girlfriend's place.

I went halfway down the stairs to find her mum, naked and grunting whilst doing a perfect front breast stroke up the stairs with toilet paper sticking out her arse.

I ran upstairs and was laughing so hard it took me minutes to say whats happenening to then girlfriend.

I get up to go and have another look with girlfriend in tow to then open the door and see that she's now reached the top, doing a swimming front crawl, get up, turn into her room with a tail of toilet paper still trailing out her crack and close the door.

The next morning at breakfast she said that she had a dream she was swimming up a waterfall to get to work and woke up with friction burns on her bristols. We never told her what she actually did.
(Thu 23rd Aug 2007, 11:47, More)