The Amazing Procrastinator
The Incredible Never Washes Up Man
The Mighty Masurbator
The Awesome Can Never Find His Glasses Man
Super Watched The Wire Eight And A Half Times Man
The Daring Loves His Phone More Than His Mom Man
The Outlandish Pornography Woman
The Amazing Forgets To Water The Plants Boy
The Incredible Shrinking Dick
The Mighty Sarcasm Man
We were all moaning about the rain, in the shop, when this bloke says, “Think of the rain as liquid sunshine!”
He had the sort of face that looked like a fist belonged in it.
Following on from yesterdays ‘Top 10 reasons to have an internet boyfriend‘, lets try the shoe on the other foot and see what’s in it for him if he dumps his girlfriend and signs up for some cyber-love instead.
Here are 10 reasons why you should trade your real girlfriend for a virtual one.
- She can be from anywhere in the world.
- You can switch her off when he gets on your nerves.
- You get to spend a lot of time masturbating.
- You’ll never catch an STD
- You don’t have to wash your feet.
- You finally have a legitimate reason for sending someone pictures of your dick.
- You don’t have to go clothes shopping with her.
- You never have to buy her flowers.
- You can have several at once.
- You don’t have to watch football with her.
Internet romance is on a steady increase with more and more couples meeting and dating online, but Why? Is the traditional boyfriend going out of style, or is it that we spend so much of our time on the net, that it just makes sense to upload our love lives into the cloud too?
Here are 10 reasons why you should trade your real boyfriend for a virtual one.
- He can be from anywhere in the world.
- You can switch him off when he gets on your nerves.
- You can keep him on your phone and play with him when you are stuck in traffic.
- You’ll never catch an STD
- You don’t have to smell his feet,
- or farts,
- or do his washing, or look at his skid marked underwear.
- Virtual boyfriends are cheaper to run.
- You can have several at once.
- You don’t have to watch football with him.
Coming soon: ‘Top 10 reasons to have an internet girlfriend“.
I thought I was going to have to get new glasses – but it turns out that I just needed to clean my computer screen.
chugger: (noun) chug-er. Shortening of charity and mugger. A street fundraiser. A person who stands on the sidewalk and asks passers by to donate small amounts of money, on a regular basis, to charity.
I loved being a chugger. It was the best day job I ever had. I felt more like a soldier than when I was a soldier. It had a Robin Hood feel to it, to some we were outlaws, to others heroes. I liked being outside in all weathers, I loved chugging in the rain. I liked the pressure and the competitive nature of what we did, and I definitely liked it that most people didn’t like us.
“You’re just all fucking parasites!” a suit said to me on Wardour Street.
“If you fancy me Sir, just say so.”
“Where’s your team leader?”
“Standing right in front of you Sir.”
*looks me up and down, stares at my mohawk, shakes head and walks away*
It didn’t matter that most people didn’t get us, you only had to get three or four people to fall in love with you a day. That’s how it worked though, it wasn’t about the charity, it was all about the chemistry between you and the donor (we refered to them as ‘units’). It was us they bought, not the charity. Honestly, if the magic was there, they would have signed up for “Nuke the Dolphins”.
The prompt is:
- Topic – A Misunderstanding
- Word count – 214
- Mood – Hecticity
- Genre – Comedy
My worst gig ever.
There was this festival a few years back, can’t remember what it was called, somewhere up in Yorkshire, in a wood. There had been a misunderstanding and the organisers had thought I was a musician rather than a comic, but I was there anyway, so I might as well go on, and I needed the money.
Stand up never goes down well at music festivals and I was uncharacteristically nervous. I was on after a band called ‘Crowbar Abortion’ and everyone was very drunk. The crowd hated me and started booing and throwing things at me. Then this bloke climbed up onto the stage, told a joke of his own that offended everybody, and then pulled down his pants and started to pleasure himself. Except he couldn’t get an erection, so he stood there tugging away at his flaccid member and getting a lot more laughs than I was.
Next, this woman, who for some reason was dressed as an aardvark, she’d been dressed like that all day, jumped up on stage, rugby tackled him and started slapping him around the face. This didn’t stop him though, quite the opposite and he continued to merrily toss himself off as she beat him up. All the while I was still trying to perform my act.
She makes me feel so special,
by always laughing at my little jokes,
and when my little jokes are not funny,
she laughs at my little penis instead.
So there’s this writer cunt, OK? Kyle sumffin’, an’ ‘e’s been saying shit abaht me an’ Micky on the fuckin’ internet, on his gay-arsed blog, the cunt. Obviously this can’t be allowed to stand, you know what I mean?
So, I bells Mickey an’ ‘e’s fuckin’ fumin’, right, gettin’ ‘is tools togevver, chargin’ up ‘is nail gun an’ that, so’s we can go rahnd there and teach the cunt a lesson. Then ‘e says, “‘ang on, why don’t we send the girls in?” Now, that’s a right cuntish suggestion, coz our women are way fuckin’ crueller than we are. I mean, I like to jump up and down on a cunt’s face like the best of ’em, but I like to get in an’ out, quick like, do the damage an’ get back down the pub, less chance of gettin’ nicked that way too, know what I mean?
Any’ow Mickey’s gotta point, this writer cunt needs needs shit explaining to ‘im carefully, an’ ‘oo better to do that than the girls? Likeisay, much meaner than us they are. My Trace fuckin’ revels in it, spend fuckin’ hours working on a cunt, that girl can. Once right, she come ‘ome wiv this bloke’s dick in ‘er bag an’ fed it to the dog. Fuckin’ ‘ell, ‘ow we laughed. Sometimes I fink she gets some kinda sexual kick aht of it, an’ I don’t blame ‘er. I mean, I ain’t ‘ad an ‘ard-on for eight years, not since the ‘eart attack an’ them puttin’ me on these beta blockers like. Well, you can’t blame a girl for wantin’ to get ‘er rocks off nah and then can yer, know what I mean?
So I gives ‘er the writer’s address an’ tells ‘er to take her time but to leave the cunt breavin’. She gets ‘er little blow torch ready and some pliers and some fuse wire an’ bells Shaz, Mickey’s bird. Before she ‘eads off I say “‘Ang on, why dontcha take little Whitney wiv yer?” She’s eleven now and it would be good for ‘er to see ‘ow we do business. I mean, I’m a parent, it would be irresponsible not to take an interest in me kid’s education, know what I mean?
Hang on a sec, I will finish this post in a minute. There are people at the door, two women and a young girl.
Working with other people can be very stressful.
I find that tea helps.
I make it in a big mug, piping hot, milk, no sugar.
Then I pour it into the lap of whoever has been pissing me off.
Every day I write a list
Of 10 useful things I want to do.
If, at the end of the day,
I have not achieved them all,
I throw the list away
And write another list
Of 10 useless things I did that day.
I click on my pop-up a bit,
Before I drag you across my desktop
And pull down your menu
And show you my hardware.
The google Earth will move
When I double click your button
and download your software.
My disc will not be floppy
As I upload my hard drive into your cloud.
Your source will be open
As I stick my large file in your dropbox.
I will try not to come in your icon,
or give you a virus though.
Little Jackie Horner
Sat in the corner,
Flicking away at her bean;
She put in her thumb,
As she started to come,
And said ‘What a good girl I’ve been!
“You can’t park that thing there sir.” said the security guard. “What if it starts doing it business on the sidewalk?” The knight ignored him and leapt from his white charger.
“I have come for my princess.” he informed the guard in a voice like steel.
“Er, there ain’t no princesses here sir,” stammered the guard, “we’re an insurance company.” The knight briefly considered running the laggard through with his sword but he wanted there to be no blood shed, not on that day, not on the day he finally got to rescue his princess. He marched through the revolving doors and called her name.
“Have you seen what’s going on outside?” said another one of the PAs staring out of the window. “Some nutcase with a horse.” Her heart leapt into her mouth. Surely not, she thought, could that be him? Her knight from Facebook? Surely not. She had thought it had all been a big joke and played along with the knight in shining armour thing. It has seemed sweet and romantic and fun, but now he was there, she could hear him bellowing her name as he bounded up the stairs five steps at a time.
She hid in the bathroom until he had left, heartbroken and confused, galloping off down Madison Avenue. The security guard’s head rolled into the gutter, a look of surprise glued forever to his face.
Jack and Jill went up the hill
To fetch a pail of water.
Jack fell down
And broke his crown
And Jill got jailed for manslaughter.
this is by the amazing helen arney
how is it possible that less than 200 people have watched this but the entire world seems to have watched ‘kitten playing with ball of string’? what is wrong with this species?
Champion by nature was a short story I wrote that I was invited to read live for Resonance FM on March 5 2010.
SpaceSnot was the second radio play I wrote. I also performed all the parts myself and created the sound effects.
It went out on Resonance FM on the 13th Feb 2009.
Listen to it here.
Entrance of the Gladiators was the first radio play I wrote. It was broadcast on Resonance FM on 15 Feb 08.
Here are some of the things that were said about it.
“Terrific. Sour, wild, moving, furious and odd as hell.”
“There’s no way I’d act in, or have anything to do with this sick shit!”
“Powerful, original and grippingly told.”
You can download or listen to it from here.