Archive for October, 2012

Beer mat

It was a dodgy kinda pub, you know the sort, dark and seedy, old men nursing their half pints so as to make them last the whole evening, or topping up their glasses from cans in a bag under the table, but I was meeting the man there, so there wasn’t much I could do except grin and bear it.

When I got up to visit the bathroom, several heads spun silently in my direction, beady eyes weighing up my pint greedily. I sat back down and flipped over a beer mat. On the back I wrote, in simple block letters “I HAVE SPAT IN THIS BEER”, propped it up against the glass and went and took a leak.

When I got back, my drink remained untouched. I grinned, I was way to smart for these lowlifes, I thought. I took the card and laid it back on the grubby Formica. I took three long gulps of the cool, golden liquid and then noticed that underneath my words on the beer mat, someone had written the words “SO HAVE WE”.


Facespeare

there is a theory that states that a billion monkeys on a billion keyboards would eventually type out the complete works of shakespeare – however i’ve been on facebook, and it would seem that this theory is clearly not true.


You think you’re funny?

i like my women like i like my coffee.

What? hot, sweet and black?

nah, bought from a street corner and costing less than three quid.

You think you’re funny, don’t you?

sure, i could make people laugh just reading from a dictionary.

Really? how would you do that then?

i’d read it with my cock hanging out.


Six score hours

In six score hours
we will finally kiss
for the very,
very first time.
Our mouths,
and flesh
will eventually meet,
although our hearts
entwined long since,

with magical words
that flew through space;
love at the speed
of light.
My soul gets erect
every time
that i think
we will kiss,
in six score hours


Image

Anger management


Pyroclasm

High on a cold, stark, mountain top, lies a snow beaten research centre. It is so remote, that it can only be reached by helicopter. Inside instruments whirr and click, dials spin and needles dance. Its only two inhabitants  a professor and a research assistant grab hold of each other and kiss deeply and powerfully. They have both wanted this for a very long time and their long suppressed passions rise up in them. They tear at each others clothes madly almost devouring each other with their wet, hungry mouths.

Behind them, needles scratch zig-zag patterns across scrolling graph paper and around cylinders, but right now their work does not matter to them, they are consumed with each other.

Deep beneath them, miles below ground, a magma flow courses through the earth.

He lifts her onto a bench and, jerking her skirt upwards, he pushes against her, feeling the heat between her legs with his hardness, ripping open her top and kissing her neck greedily, as though he had only moments to live. With the desire of a starving tiger, she tugs at his belt and trousers until she has him freed. He shoves her further back and she pushes instruments and beakers, and piles of documents, roughly out of the way. Paper flutters around them and glass shatters on the floor, chemicals hiss and steam. She raises her hips to help him, as he lifts her skirt and pulls down her already dripping panties.

Behind them needles twitch in their dials, climbing jerkily upwards towards red. Screens flash with data.

Below them the volcano is becoming aroused. Little jets of steam gasp and sigh from its surface. and boiling lava gushes through its veins.

A pen on a graph starts drawing faster, more frantic zigs and zags.

He pushes her over onto her back, sending more paper flying and a computer monitor crashing to floor and he bends forward and kisses her glistening pussy. “Oh yes!” she she half moans, half whispers; it has been so long since a man had done that to her. He continues; little kisses at first and tiny little tickles with the tip of his tongue but he is so crazy for her, and so wants to pleasure her that he is soon flicking hard and fast at her clit, responding to her every gasp and sigh, his engorged cock brushing against the cold hard steel of the bench, sending shivers up and down its length. He revels in her, filling his mouth with her erotic tastes and his nostrils with her inflaming odours. ‘Now!’ she shudders, “Fuck me now! Before I come! Fuck me!”

Sulphur spits from the volcano’s sweating flank and huge clouds burst in gasps from its gaping mouth. the ground trembles and a flock of birds take to the air.

Climbing onto the bench, he kisses her belly and breasts as he rises up her, until they are face to face, eye to eye, and his shaft hovering over her pussy, tickling it. She tastes herself as they kiss and she guides him into her. He fucks her fiercely and deeply, pulling back each time until he is almost out of her before plunging back into her with a strength that shakes her whole body, filling her, taking her breath away and drawing light screams of joy from her. The bench rocks under their frenzy and she digs her fingers deep into his buttocks pulling him as hard into her as she can.

The Magma rises faster now, deep below them, flowing thickly through the body of the mountain. Until it can take no more. Until it must find its release.

He rears up as he comes and bursts into her and she clings to him, their bodies in unison with his eruption, their orgasms shooting through every muscle in their bodies, their bodies pulsating in time with each other’s.

The molten lava rises and bursts from the volcano, shooting high into the air, a thick gushing hot liquid. It splatters the landscape around, in steaming great pools and it flows in great rivulets down the mountain’s sides. Over and over the volcano erupts in hot sticky squirts, covering everything before it, seemingly never ending.

After a long while, the professor gets up off the bench and looks around her, something is not quite right. She looks at a screen. “Fuck!”, she screams. her assistant looks at her,
“What?”, he asks. She looks back at the screen and his eyes follow hers “Oh holy fuck!” he murmurs. They both turn round, to the window and are just in time to see the pyroclastic flow before it engulfs them and turns them into dust.


Video games really are dangerous

People say that video games are dangerous, that they are too violent and that they corrupt our youth, who then imitate the behaviour they display in games. Now, to a degree, this is true; as a youngster, I spent a lot of time playing PacMan and think it no coincidence that my hobbies seemed to involve running around a great deal and swallowing large amounts of pills and magic fruit. However, this is not the only damage that playing video games can inflict on our fragile psyches, and certainly not the most serious, as I have recently discovered.

After a recent, 73 hour session on GTA (San Andreas, in case you’re wondering) I wandered out, in need of vodka and marijuana and completely forgot that, here in the UK, we drive on the left.  I looked the wrong way when crossing the road, and was clobbered by a number 476 bus. Fortunately, I had a cheat code activated and was able to light up the entire bus with an infeasibly large mini-gun.

I have only been able to avoid the subsequent, and comprehensive, police enquiry by laying low and then switching myself off and then on again. Nevertheless, I have returned, high-score intact and an erection for each and every one of you. Be warned, as always, all comments and likes will only inflame my passion for jerking off to your gravatar pics.

Thank you for tuning back in.