She is like a starving lioness, craving the kill, desperate for the taste of blood, the sensation of tearing flesh and the sweet stench of terror from her prey. She needs to feed. She longs to devour and feast. She needs to eat. Her hunger so strong that it hurts, consuming her every waking moment and drenching her dreams. It’s the only thing she can think about. She simply has to feel her teeth sinking into soft, terrified flesh. It’s in her very nature, to choke and kill and devour. She has no choice in the matter. It is who she is and it is what makes her so beautiful.
The best thing about her is that she’s coming round later tonight for what she describes as a barbecue. I’m just a little puzzled, as I don’t have a yard, but I’m sure she knows what she’s talking about, and I can’t wait to find out.
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.
I wish I could remember where I found this image (if you know please tell me). Truth is, its true. Women never came from a man’s ribs – sorry but that’s gotta be the silliest thing I ever heard – we came from a woman’s vagina.
Let me kneel before you in prayer
and worship at the gates of your celestial city.
Let me taste your divine sacrament
and feel your sacred eucharist wet against my lips.
My hymns will be your moans,
your carnal rapture my liturgy,
in praise of our holy communion.
and let me sacrifice myself
on the alter of your glistening, trembling thighs
and anoint you with my hallowed seed.
I wake up this morning to discover that I am single. She’s left me. In the middle of the night. For another guy.
Its a lovely little note, full of sweet comments about how much better he is in bed than I am and how fulfilled he makes her feel. I file it with all the others and then do what anyone else would do in such a situation, I change my Faecbook relationship status back to ‘single’. Next, I pop round to some friends and get myself lots of hugs, have a little rant, a little cry and a cup of tea. Then I have to get back to work.
I’m self employed, see, and my boss is a real wanker – although sometimes he’ll give me the afternoon off if I give him a hand job, (thankfully, he’s never asked me to suck his dick, I don’t think my back could take it). Once at my desk, I do what any self-respecting writer does, I go onto Farcebook, and its amazing, its like it can read my mind.
Within two hours of my declaration of singledom, Fartbook has filled my sidebar with adverts for women. The variety is astounding. I can find Christian girlfriends or date black women, I can even have a girlfriend in a uniform if I want. One says “Women over 40.” although there is no way the woman in the picture is even halfway to 40. I can date a ‘pretty Chinese girl’ or ‘1,000s of Japanese women’ and I wonder if that means you have to date them all at the same time. I’m even offered a choice of vegetarian women – why would I care what someone does or doesn’t eat?
I click on one and it takes me to a site called serioussingles.co.uk and I start to fill out my profile. There are some obvious questions, like gender and age and location. They want to know my ethnicity, which I guess is important for a lot of people, although it isn’t for me, and they want to know how much I earn, which is fair enough I guess, but I’m a writer and there isn’t a box marked ‘zero’. Next they ask me what religion I am. I scan the list for atheist or antitheist but they’re not there, and all I can click on is ‘none’, which is wrong because I believe in plenty of shit, just not any of the shit with the tick boxes on their page. Then, they start to piss me off.
The next page is about my interests, what kind of music I like, that kind of thing. I don’t get to type in genres or my favourite bands or anything, oh no. I have to pick from a list. Well, guess what? Rastabilly Skank and Bulgarian Hip-Hop weren’t even there. I get a list of bands I might like. Now sure, I like the Red Hot Chili Peppers and Primal scream, but where on that list are Bad Sin and The Tofu Love Frogs? Anyway, I click on ‘rock’ and ‘blues’ and ‘new wave’. New wave! Really? The next screen loses me completely.
The next page of my profile is all about what ‘hairstyle’ I have, and again, I don’t get to choose. I mean, why the fuck would anyone select a partner on the basis of hairstyle? I want a woman who is beautiful, its not about how “hot” she is. I don’t care if she’s bald as long as her heart shines. I look down the list and… surprise surprise, mohawk isn’t there. This is the point where I click ‘cancel’ and would have clicked ‘fuck you’ too if they had such a button.
Tonight my friends are gonna take me out and get me laid. Gonna cheer me up. I’ll go along with it, in the belief that it will work, I just hope the poor girl doesn’t mind me crying while I fuck her.
Good night, sweetheart
It’s time to go now
You’ve been so wonderful,
I don’t wish to go
Goodnight sweetheart – I will always love you x
1. Full of energy and enthusiasm.
2. Quivering; pulsating: “She was vibrant with lust”.
3. Pulsing or throbbing with energy or activity
4. Vigorous, lively, and vital
I’ll be damned if this isn’t the sexiest video I’ve ever seen. Now, I don’t mean sexy, as in it gives me a hard-on (although it always seems to coax a semi out of me), I mean sexy as in how it has my jaw dropping and my tongue lolling out.
I know it might not be politically correct, that its just a lot of bare female flesh being cavorted in front of the camera, that maybe it objectifies women, but I disagree with that, and I’ve never been one to give a flying fuck what the politically correct brigade think anyway. I just think this gorgeous video celebrates womanhood.
Let’s face it, we all know, that in our species, women are the sexy ones. Men know it and women know it. You know it and I know it. In a lot of other species it is different, Peacocks are sexier than Peahens for example, and with lots of other animals, its the male that does most of the sexual flaunting. Just not so with us, and I celebrate and adore that fact. Look at the women in this video, they are enjoying being sexy, half of them can’t stop smiling, and they all look like they understand the power that their beauty holds. Listen to the lyrics too, this is a love song and as good a celebration of femininity as I’ve ever heard.
I look on the rhythmic swaying of all that thigh and belly and cleavage, not so much with lust but, in the way I might gaze upon a beautiful sunset or waterfall: with awe, as I behold one of nature’s most beautiful works.
And let’s face it, he’s pretty hot too.
Just for a day,
Or maybe a weekend,
I want to be woman.
I want to know
What it feels like to have breasts.
I want to lift up my t-shirt
And flash them at a stranger
Just to enjoy the look on his face.
I wanna know what it feels like
To have a clit,
to play with it.
What does it feels like
For a woman to orgasm?
Is it the same?
Is It better?
I want to know
What it feels like to get fucked,
To spread my legs
And wrap them round you,
Pulling you into me,
Feeling you empty your soul
And your nuts
I wanna stand up to the bullies,
Meet some guy that treats me like an object
And kick him so hard in the nuts
That he’ll never walk the same again.
Just for a day,
Or maybe a week,
I want to be woman.
liked this? See what you think of the sequel.
I like my coffee
Like I like my women.
Strong, hot and wet.
I don’t care
If my coffee is black or white,
Just as long as it is tasty.
I can’t stand
I find it sad
That so many
Of my fellow Brits
Drink that shit.
I like to use my plunger,
Or at least my peculator,
I’m nuts about my coffee.
It took me years to find my favorite
With over two terabytes of hard core porn on my hard drive, I just can’t figure out why this is simply the most beautiful image I have ever seen.
Will someone please explain this shit to me?
I like to watch him shave.
I like how he uses his clippers,
not a blade
and I like how much care he takes.
I like the faces he pulls
as he reaches every part of his chin,
the way he sticks his tongue into his lips and cheeks.
Don’t tell him,
but it turns me on.
I like that he cares.
I like that it matters to him.
I like how he knows his own face,
how he knows its contours.
I wish he’d wash his fucking feet sometimes though.
This was inspired by something I read on the wonderful Tales of a Charm City Chick.
Six things to avoid on a first date
(that have happened to me on a first date…all within the last six months)
- Falling asleep: for some reason this is not looked kindly upon. You might think you are just demonstrating how comfortable you feel in her prescence, but trust me, it doesn’t work. I once woke up to find my date had left! How rude is that?
- Proposing: again, this doesn’t seen to float a woman’s boat. I thought women liked romance. Wait until the second date would be my advice, not that I’ve ever actually had a second date.
- Crying uncontrollably throughout the entire evening: I thought that women liked to see a man’s sensitive side but I have failed to get my dick sucked on many occasion due to this.
- Laughing uncontrollably throughout the entire evening: this one is not always a disaster but try to make sure that you don’t point at her when you are laughing.
- Asking her if she has any hot sisters: not sure why this is often responded to with “Cheque please!” Asking her if she has any hot brothers seems to have a similar effect. The same rule can also be applied to mothers, daughters and grandmothers and particularly to pets and/or livestock.
- Telling her that you have been masturbating over her Farcebook profile pictures: I thought that was flattering but apparently not, not even if you provide proof by showing her the video of you doing it.
So there you have it guys. The foolproof guide to not getting your face slapped. Who knows, maybe one day one of us will get to go on that elusive second date.
Now, before you click ‘unfollow’ or start to hurl abuse, hear me out.
Isn’t there something wrong with our societies if we need to remind ourselves to celebrate our respect, appreciation and love of women, and then, only for a single bloody day? Aren’t women’s economic, political and social achievements something we should celebrate every day?
Only in a man’s world would there be such a thing as a women’s day.
I think this century will belong to women, I think it should, I hope it does, and all those that follow. If this carries on being a man’s world for much longer, then we are fucked. We have had our go and we have literally cocked things up. We live on a planet that is dying and where the threat of terrorism and nuclear armageddon loom over us like retarded demons. Our economies are falling apart, leaving a wake of poverty and misery and all because of nothing more than pointless macho competitiveness and greed. Wake up and smell the pollution boys, its time for someone else to take the wheel.
Women make better bosses, they understand people better and as a result make better politicians (except for the witch Thatcher, may she rot in hell). Its about time women had a go at running the world, there would be fewer wars, I’m sure, and the place would probably smell a whole lot nicer, and maybe science would be less about exploring outer space and more about solving the problems we have here on Mother Earth (note how we never call it Father Earth).
Don’t get me wrong, I love being a man, I adore it, and in any kind of world, I would have it no other way, but its true what they say, ‘men never grow up’, our toys just get more expensive. Maybe that’s what I love about being a man, I don’t know, I just think a women’s world would be a better, kinder, more understanding place than this man’s one.
Some of you will of course say that the responsibility for our planet should be shared equally, but I don’t agree. For me there is one compelling argument why women should take the reins of our ailing planet: it would mean that me, and other men, would be able to spend a lot more time playing with our dicks and our playstations.
Sorry for ranting, not normally my thing, normal smutty pointlessness will be resumed as soon as possible, and BTW thanks to JS for reminding me.
It struck me today, a rather sad little conclusion… men are not very good at a lot of things. We are good at beating our chests and scaring off demons, but that is about it. You got a demon you want scaring off? Call a bloke.
This century will belong to women, at least I hope it will. There will be fewer wars and fewer unnecessary deaths. Men have had their time, and in my opinion, have done a good job of it all but now it should be the girl’s turn. In my experience, women make better bosses than men, they understand people better.