» Dumb things you've done

Stupid, and rather embarrassing......
I hope no one connects this to the real me...

One bright balmy summers evening, I'm reclining on my couch recieving a spot of togerlingus from my filly (a rarity in itself!).

As I approach the Billy Mill roundabout, I suddenly remember that this particular young lady is neither a spitter not a swallower - nay, she's more of a move out of the way and say 'oooh that's horrible, look at it going everywhere' type.

Noticing that there is nothing to hand with which to shield my tee shirt and indeed my soft furnishings from the imminent (and now irrevocable) baby paste fountain, and also realising thatin my supine position I'm never gonna catch it in my dirty little mitts, I decide to clamp down on either side of the glans with thumb and finger, trapping the Oil of Goolay inside the truncheon until I can shuffle off to the water closet.

Don't do this kids. I burst my dick. At least internally. There was a nasty feeling of pressure, and then an even nastier feeling of internal rippage which quite took the fun out of the proceedings. With much panicked yelling, I let go (firing man batter up the tee shirt), and ran off to the loo.

To cut the rest of this sordid and graphic tale short, having your jap constantly drip blood for 2 days straight, and not daring to pee, let alone wank for nearly a week is not something to stick on your to-do list. I'm not even counting the vague feeling of shame going to work with half a bog roll wrapped round your cock like Mumm-Ra's sex aid so blood doesn't run down your leg and into your shoe.

Length? Unchanged, but probably bigger on the inside.
(Wed 2nd Jan 2008, 0:15, More)

» Mobile phone disasters

Predictive Text and Sizeable Choppers.
Well, once upon a time I'm going out with a lovely young filly called Sue (none of that is true, her initial was V and she was a cunt).

Anyway, Sue was quite an attractive girl and not particularly shy, but she was somewhat self conscious of her teeth. Not that they were enormous, I mean she could eat and talk to people without lacerating passers by, but they were largish and she had a lower front tooth that stuck out a tiny bit. I thought it was cute at the time, but this is before I found out she was a manic depressive with a growler like Brian Blessed's chin and the personality of a freshly raped Smiths fan.

Anyway, now that the build-up is much larger than this story justifies, I sent her a goodnight text one evening. Something along the lines of "Had a great night[lies], see ya tomorrow honey xx".

Honey being the word I'd like to focus on here. The word which requires a key sequence of 46639. A key sequence that's also used for the word 'goofy'. Which alphabetically is earlier in the selection sequence than honey.

She withheld what little affection and niceness she was capable of mustering for ages after that. Interestingly, she had a similar response to this when I told her the thing about her growler, but at least I meant it that time.
(Wed 5th Aug 2009, 14:48, More)

» The thing I've been most ashamed of doing with a penis

A disgusting Cut And Paste Job....
....but what do you expect with a question like this....at least it's on topic!

pea begins:

One bright balmy summers evening, I'm reclining on my couch recieving a spot of togerlingus from my filly (a rarity in itself!).

As I approach the Billy Mill roundabout, I suddenly remember that this particular young lady is neither a spitter not a swallower - nay, she's more of a move out of the way and say 'oooh that's horrible, look at it going everywhere' type.

Noticing that there is nothing to hand with which to shield my tee shirt and indeed my soft furnishings from the imminent (and now irrevocable) baby paste fountain, and also realising thatin my supine position I'm never gonna catch it in my dirty little mitts, I decide to clamp down on either side of the glans with thumb and finger, trapping the Oil of Goolay inside the truncheon until I can shuffle off to the water closet.

Don't do this kids. I burst my dick. At least internally. There was a nasty feeling of pressure, and then an even nastier feeling of internal rippage which quite took the fun out of the proceedings. With much panicked yelling, I let go (firing man batter up the tee shirt), and ran off to the loo.

To cut the rest of this sordid and graphic tale short, having your jap constantly drip blood for 2 days straight, and not daring to pee, let alone wank for nearly a week is not something to stick on your to-do list. I'm not even counting the vague feeling of shame going to work with half a bog roll wrapped round your cock like Mumm-Ra's sex aid so blood doesn't run down your leg and into your shoe.

Still, returned the favour recently and split the bitch.
(Tue 17th Mar 2009, 17:04, More)

» Best and worst TV ads

Cosmetics advertising...
I personally take issue with certain mascara adverts. Specifically, the ones that not only lie to you, but are legally obliged to display a banner message illustrating that they are indeed talking out of their grease smeared animal testing shitholes.

"Look at our product - merely rub a bit of this black gunky shit into your eyelid hair using a glorified miniture bog brush (or as we prefer, an enhancing applicator using our new patented Enviro-LashLift-Blindotron technology), and before you know it you'll have eyelashes like black men's cocks hanging down over your chin".

Banner on screen: "Effect shown achieved in post production". A brief translation of this equates to: "This ladies eyelashes have been Photoshopically enhanced after the fact to the point where they make the animation effects used in Avatar look like they were drawn by Daniel Day Lewis in My Left Foot."

Basically, before I added 3 paragraphs of dribbling hyperbole to it, these people are allowed to lie directly to the consumer provided they then tell them that they're lying in a barely visible screen flash. What next?

"Try our new babyfood, it's great and healthy! (babyfood actually not great or healthy and mostly made of sharpened bits of Polonium drenched in anthrax)"

Maybe she's born with it. Maybe it's Maybelline! Maybe we've had a team of artists working on it for 4 months straight because she's actually a crackhead with a face like a bulldog chewing a piss soaked wasp and skin tone that would make a leprous crocodile tut and pass the E45.
(Thu 15th Apr 2010, 17:36, More)

» Presents

A small number of Yules ago....
....my current cockwash purchased me a 'lovely' giftbox set containing a pen and a selection of 5 Belgian chocolates.

Not an expensive present I'll grant you (as the still-attached £3.50 price tag attested), but bought with thought and loving care based on 2 considered truisms: 1. I occasionally write things down, and 2. I'm a fat bastard.

Bless. Cheap yet thoughtful, and easily the moral and heartfelt equal to the iPod I got her.

Or at least it would have been had the top heavy object of my random affections not eaten one of the sodding chocolates. Disregarding the pen (which incidentally I did), she spent £3 on me, then ate 20% of it. What a baggy old pair of cortinas de la carne de vaca, as they say in Spain.

I love her to bits really, but this year I'm just going to kick her in the fish mitten.
(Mon 30th Nov 2009, 15:09, More)