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It's only half way through and not edited. But a very lovely celeb type has just sent it to his agent for me. Oh yes.
ill give you a reacharound after over coffees :)
It is a good story.
that happened to my ex too, that really could have killed you like.
Who was killed by a bad forklift man
The metal fell on his head
And he was instantly dead
And the forklifter had sex with his gran
that my appendix scar was actually caused by my saving a girl from a rampaging forklift truck, and I was unfortunately speared to the wall. I was drunk and talking a LOT of rot so obviously she didn't believe me, but she gave me her phone number because she was going to be in Vegas when my friends and I were likely to be there as part of our road trip.
So, we rolled into Vegas, having not showered in several days (and living off cheap beer, mountain dew and hot dogs), and give her a call. Apparently she was quite rich, as we spent the night at her party in the penthouse suite of the Bellagio Hotel.
but some of it was only hilarious in hindsight
Who had a disgustingly ming face
She posted a thread
I wish she was dead
But I told her this story post haste
you are quite the scribe
Who had a most unfortunate bout
of explosive diarrhea
and dirty gonorrhea
and topped it all off with some gout
Thinks he can rhyme but his rhymes make me bored
When he was at school
All the kids who were cool
Would tell him that he was a gaylord
Bamnan is a troubled soul
He used to have sex with a mole
Put his tongue in a molehill
up the ass of one called Phil
But now he only fucks voles
Bizzy you're nothing to me
Your poems are handed out free
to the homeless and poor
in cereal boxes and more
I'm sure everyone else will agree
It's MissBass to rhyme with ass...
Who had an enormously round ass
She posted a thread
I wish she was dead
And now I feel guilty for being crass
Who thought he'd be smart, correct me-o
He thinks he's so bright
Admin of the site
But he ain't like that statue in Rio
are you calling me MissBass with ass all this time?
MissBass is more naturally because you're saying 'ss' the same way both times. So for me you are MissBass, either after the fish or the brewery.
i dont smell
there was this young lad named JOOK
he though he was well off the hook
he wasnt you see, it was clear to see
he was nothing more that a big ugly JA-HOKE
second verse you say?
i could be here all day!
busting verses is a game
i like to play
Jook is a minger a slut and a crook
his face makes me want to puke
even the noises he makes, that i cannot hear
make me want to string up a rope
MissBass thinks that she can diss
But her rhymes are reminiscent of piss
I'm embarrassed for her
And the words that she slurs
I think she should give poetry a miss
Jook rhymes with fluke, not crook.
Two folks had a verbal fight
on the pages of a music website
one rhymed with good form
the other was forlorn
and they all ended up in bed together.
Hanky thinks that he is a poet
But his last line doesn't rhyme and he knows it
Poems have to rhyme
It's a rule that is mine
So shut up Hanky you bush tit
There one was a fella called Jack
His poems were unrivalled cack
He got a bit cranky
And abused poor Hanky
And they all ended up in bed together
summed it up, right there.
Causes most of the animals no harm
But he tells me to be quiet
And it makes me want to riot
So I'm going to shit on his arm
Jook thought he was the best,
he rarely lost a bet,
he can not stand to lose,
he won't tie up his shoes,
and he is very good at this poem lark.
Hanky can't compete with my thing
Because he knows I'm the poetry King
I wear a crown and a cloak
And make hilarious jokes
Check out my linguistic string
I have to concede to his skill,
he has me over a barril,
but there's one thing I know,
he can't touch me on fo show,
I have got a bigger dick than him.
Hanky boasts about his cock on the internet
Something that he'll probably regret
Because I've seen the photos
Of Hanky all exposed
And it's about the size of a cigarette
You really are very good.
Jook sits on DiS all day
waiting for some poor kid to play
semi who semi what i hear you say?
hmmmm yes i think thats right
K8 Da St8 is high as a kite
and i think i think i might
Jook shut up'ya'face
you big disgrace
thinking you're all that
pretending to be Mr Phat
Yeah thats right Spelt with a P
You trying to be cool YOU SEE!
MissBass I apologise for being rude
My poems were awful and crude
For now I can see
You're retarded, like He
And I'm not discriminatory against you and your people.
2/10 at best. Must try harder.
I think we'd all prefer metaphors
But sadly we've only got mehodor
Bamnan can't keep up with my skills
His threads make me run for the hills
He thinks he's got wit
But he's really quite shit
And his moustache gives me the chills
Take a good look at this and you'll see where you're going wrong.
his mother is a tranny
I punched his aunt and killed his pet
it died quite in-stant-ly
Mehodors mother is dead
I raped her and cut off her head
Bamnans mum too
Covered her in poo
And buried them together in a shed
Jooks mother is a crack addict
One day I'd just plain had it
So I beat her into submission
Complete was my mission
I only wish I'd filmed it
Mehodor was abused as a child
His beatings ranged from violent to mild
He pretended to hate it
But really he loved it
Every time he was bummed, he smiled
jooks dad drinks from toilets
particularly just after coitus
his mother remarked
I just done a fart
he beat fuck into her and enjoyed it
His mum pushes his head underneath
And forces him to smell all her queefs
He puts the scent in his piece
And smears it with her fanny grease
And then rubs it all over his teeth
There was a young boy, Mehodor
Sandwiches he really does adore
But he's got a secret
And I will reveal it
He actually quite prefers whores
He'd always go for a piece
But the bread was not buttered
and Mehodor muttered
"HAHA BRUSMA IS BRUSMA"
HAHA BRUSMA IS BRUSMA
A little known story about Rick
When the lunchlady made his bread extra thick
He revealed Thor's hammer
And proceeded to bam her
Then compared a baguette to his dick
take note bamtits ^
Jook, Hanky, Bamnan and MissBass
define a certain Dis subclass
To make my rhyme fit
I need 5 lines and a bit
Cos the the name of their subset is Ras-
There once was an oldie called creakyknees
He dresses like a lady to tease
He writes long paragraphs
And isn't much of a laugh
'Subclass' my arse, now leave please
Creakyknees is the man,
he is older than the average fan,
His knees creak,
and his posts are very neat,
i love you, and your flans.
my outlook is as a prism
full of double entendres and euphemism
but try as I can
I cant fathom the word 'flan'
unless its something to do with j***
A middle aged man, name of Barry
Bought some knees at the town Cash n Carry
But the clerk was too sneaky
The knees Baz got were so creaky
That he couldn't handle his silver Ferrari
Because I've got loads!
i have all night!
the fact i do a whole day/night shift is sad :( i need to get a life
,6 friends and I, seduced by the promise of sun, sea, sex, drugs and rock and roll, had taken the decision to attend the Benicassim music festival in Spain. We caught an early flight out of Gatwick to Barcelona and then caught a train south to Benicassim. We rolled off the train, all steaming drunk, just before Noon. As we stepped off the platform we were immediately consumed by an almghty 90.F + heat that made the short walk to the campsite with our tents and bags unbearable. When we got there, we were shepherded to a camping spot by one of the stewards and told, in pidgen English, exactly where we were to camp. It was tiny patch of scorched grass set amongst a throng of tents. The occupants of each tent were all healthy looking, olive skinned young spanish people. Their eyes stared at our pastey, sweaty, drunken red faces before them. A few of them spoke amongst themselves, I had no idea exactly what they were saying but it was obvious that they weren't pleased with their new neighbours. Knowing my friends, I decided that it would be best for all concerned if we were placed away from the crowd, so I asked the steward if we could be moved away, pointing at the empty field at the other end of the campsite.
"No, you ave to stay ere. De udder camp will be full by tomorrow!" he replied.
We had arrived 2 days before the festival started so we could soak up the atmosphere and drink in the many bars in Benicassim town centre, so his answer was entirely plausible.
"OK" I thought "but you, me and these nice people will surely regret it."
We did our best job of pitching our tents. The ground was rock solid and the searing heat made the task almost impossible. My friend Barry sat back against a wall;
"Ah f*ck it, lads! We'll hardly be sleeping in them, lets just leave them as they are and head into town."
I looked at the pathetic sagging tents, which were to be our home for the next week, and decided he was right.
"Lets check out the beach while we're at it" another friend suggested.
So we gathered our beach stuff, threw our bags into our flacid tents and strolled off into town for a few more drinks. The bars were all lovely. The typical ones you get in spain with large terraced beer gardens and dark haired lovelies serving behind the bar. I had given everyone strict instructions to do their best to order food and drink in spanish. Even if our accents were crap and we got the words all wrong, surely the locals would appreciate our efforts, I reasoned. After skulling a good few cold drinks we took the decision to head to the beach.
"I've just got to do a few things." said Brian "you head on without me and I'll catch you up".
"I'll come with you" Barry replied "I've got to sort some cash out"
So we left the two of them to it, got a few supplies of booze and water and made the arduos journey down towards the sea.
A couple of hours past and there was still no sign of Barry and Brian. I was sat out on a floatilla 150 metres off shore with my friend Joe. The sun had already started cooking our white skin despite the industrial strength sunblock we had all slapped on ourselves.
"They must have carried on drinking in town. or gone to get something to eat." Joe reasoned.
"Probably!" i replied "you know what those two are like when they get together".
"Hang on a minute! Is that them?"
"Over there! Those two that have just walked in next to the building on the left."
I looked into the distance and could see two figures making their way towards the rest of the lads. it was definitely them. Despite the distance, i could tell as Barrys bright red shorts and large frame stuck out like a turd on an ice rink against the rest of the thin, tanned, nubile spanish people enjoying the beach.
"Whats Brian got under his arm?" Joe said puzzledly.
"I don't no. I can't make it out. What is that?"
We decided to swim back to sure and see what they had been up to. The swim out to the float had nearly killed us. I'm not a great swimmer at the best of times but when you've been up since 4am and been drinking all day it really takes it out of you. I clung desperately to a buoyed rope and dragged myself back towards the shore. As I stepped out of the water, it soon became clear what Brian had under his arm- An open mouthed blow up doll. And he was wearing a leopard skin thong that he had acquired from somewhere. The blow up doll was wearing a leopard skin bra. He had gone out and bought a bikini for it and was wearing the bottoms.
"What the f*ck?" I enquired with a giggle "what the f*ck did you buy a blow up doll for?" I looked around and could see horrified faces looking at us. Men and women with children and the other freshed faced spaniards were all looking at us in disgust.
"It's not a blow up doll! It's my new girlfriend, Chiquita. We met in town and she wanted to come to the beach" Brian slurred, was trying to stifle his laughter. He was clearly more drunk than before and I could see, from the cartons of Sangria that Barry and him were drinking, why. All my friends were giggling and making jokes and Brian was feeding off the laughter he had caused, but someone had to try and keep him in line. I was mindful that someone would have to keep everyone in check on this holiday or we would all be kicked out of the festival or deported, but i hadn't reckoned it would have happened on the first day.
"It's a f*cking blow up doll, Brian! There's kids around here and you're causing a scene. Everyone's staring at us! It's only 4 o'clock!"
Brian put his hands on the sides of the dolls head, pretending to shield it's ears;
"Don't listen to him, sweet heart! He's just jealous of the love we have."
Everyone fell about laughing and i realised that it was pointless remonstrating with him. Brian loves antagonising people and I didn't want to look like a killjoy. We had come here to have fun, If it was going to be at other peoples expense then so be it.
"Fine. Whatever. But what the hell are you wearing?" pointing at the thong with his hairy bollocks clearly hanging out the sides.
"It's lovely isn't it? I forgot my swimming trunks so I had to buy these and the only shop i could find was for women."
"But did you have to buy a thong. And a leopard skin one at that? It's f*cking tiny!"
He turned to show me his arse;
"It's not a thong. Look!"
He pulled the material out of his arse to reveal that they were normal bikini bottoms before hiking them back up his arse crack again.
"It just feels more comfortable like that!"
I laughed and turned away from him and he ran down towards the sea with the with the blow up doll under his arm; "Come on Chiquita!" he roared. We all laughed at his hairy white arse made it's way down to the waves. I turned to Barry who was wearing a stupid yellow visor, a donald duck t-shirt and had a large carton of Don Simon sangria, his top lip was stained red from the booze.
"And what the f*ck are you supposed to be? You look like a fat 12 year old boy!"
"That's the idea!" Barry laughed, he could handle his drink better than Brian and was clearly more lucid.
"He's a f*cking nightmare!" I said nodding my head at Brian, who was now frolicking in the shallows laying ontop of the blow up doll.
"You should have seen him in town. I went to the shop and said I'd meet him on the corner. When he turned up ten minutes later he was walking down the street arm in arm with that thing. You should have seen the looks we were getting in the bank!"
I laughed. "Look at him now!" another one of my friends said. I turned to see that some lovely looking girls were up and talking to Brian. He was still laying down in the shallows but was proudly posing for photos with his head rested on his arm and the doll by his side, as they were laughing and giggling with him.
"The crazy, lucky bastard!" Barry said.
"Well at least some of the locals have seen the funny side." I added, "most of these lot haven't!"
After another hour so of messing about and when all our beer was either drunk or warm, we headed back to our campsite, picking up some cold bottles of wine and some hardcore porn in a shop along the way. The large security guard at the gate said nothing as he checked our wristbands, but gave us all a look that said "If you f*ck around. I'll kill you!"
We got back to our tents and the drinking and frivolity started back up immediately. Our neighbours were all still sat around as they had been before, barely any of them had a drink, and the stunned silence and staring said more than any words could.
I sat against the wall smoking a large cigar, drinking my wine from the bottle when Brian staggered to his feet and declared he was going to get something to eat up at the shack near the front entrance. "Leave the doll here" Patrick said to him "If that security guard catches you on your own he'll throw you out" he reasoned.
"Yeah, he's probably right" I chimed in "just leave it here and we'll look after her."
After some persuading Brian agreed and he staggered off on his mission.
"I'll do more than look after her" said Paddy, as he threw down the spanish porno he had been reading and lifted the doll off the floor before throwing it into his tent.
"What are you doing?" I laughed, "Brian will go mental!"
"Oh nothing!" Paddy replied with a grin as he zipped up the tent behind him.
"You sick dirty bastard!" said Barry as he picked up the magazine from the floor "You're going to f*ck it, aren't you?"
Paddy stuck his head out of the tent; "No no no!" he said in a mock spanish accent as he waved his finger in front of his face; "We make, how you say in english? Sweet f*ck f*ck!" before he pulled his head back inside and zipped the tent up to the last.
We all laughed as the rustling began inside the tent, followed swiftly by a squeaking sound. The hardcore spanish grot was obviously too much for Paddy to take and he needed a release that only a woman or a cheap plastic blow up woman could provide. We listened intently and laughed our bollocks off to Paddys exaggarated moaning inside the tent.
"Oh f*ck!" said Joe "Brians on his way back!"
I turned my head to see Brian staggering down the dusty rocky pathway, he was holding a pint of lager in one hand and was trying to eat a whole rolled up pizza with the other. He was making a proper mess of it.
"Shhh!" I whispered "Don't tell him whats going on."
Brian jumped down the low wall from the path to where we were camped, spilling his beer and nearly falling over on the process.
"Where's Chiquita?" he enquired immediately, looking confusedly at the empty spot where he had gently left her. "And where's Patrick?" The squeaking had temporarily stopped.
"Sit down Brian. We've got some bad news for you." said Barry with mock concern as we all tried to contain our laughter "while you were gone Paddy and her really hit it off and, well, I'm afraid, she's left you."
"Where's Pat and where's my Chiquita?" Brian enquired again, more forcefully.
A loud squeak of rubber came from the closed tent and we all burst out laughing.
"You f*cker Patrick!" Brian screamed, dropping his pizza and pint on the ground before darting towards the shoddy tent.
"I'm sorry!" came a voice from inside "I just couldn't help myself! She's been giving me the come on all day!"
Brian ripped upon the zip to be greeted with the site of Paddys naked arse between the blow up dolls legs, his shorts and pants were pulled clean down around his ankles.
"You absolute f*cking c*nt! I turn my back for two minutes and you do this!"
Paddy desperately pulled up his pants as we all screamed with laughter and quickly tried to take pictures of the horribly comprimising position in front of us.
"What are you doing? I've not even had sex with her yet and then you jump in and steal her virginity from me!!!"
I've known Brian for years and could tell through his anger that he was joking around, but the horrified spanish onlookers around us had the universal "Whatthef*ck?" look on their stunned faces as they gazed in on this disturbing scene.
Seeing the laughter Brian was getting out us, he stepped up his tirade another notch as Patrick willingly joined in with the spectacle, profusely apologising and begging Brian for forgiveness. After a while he turned to Patrick;
"OK, I understand. It's not your fault. She's just a sexy spanish harlot and you were weak to her powers!"
"Yeah that's right", Patrick agreed.
"Come out here, Chiquita. I want a word with you!"
The doll lay there in the tent with it's foot poking out.
"Don't ignore me bitch! i go off to buy us some food for us and the minute my back is turned you seduce my friend. Well you better get out here and explain yourself!"
Again, suprisingly, the doll lay motionless.
"Right, you whore! Get out here now!" he screamed, before dragging the doll out by it's foot and hoisting it up to his eye level. We were all all in stitches, my sides were hurting I was laughing so much. Some of our neighbours had now realised it was a joke and were smiling over nervously, whilst others (mostly women) looked on in utter disgust.
"I don't know how things work over here, i only got here this morning, but in my country we don't put up with our girlfriends shagging our mates when our backs are turned."
"You tell her, Brian" said Joe.
"I don't know what kind of mug you take me for but I'm not gonna stand that! Go on say something! Don't just look at me like that with your mouth open!"
Brian pulled the dolls mouth towards his ear, pretending that it was whispering something to him.
"What's that? You wanted a real man!? You dirty spanish slaaagg! Well this is what we do to woman like you in England!"
And with that, he held the doll at arms length and began hitting it in the face.
"YOU DIRTY SPANISH SLAG!" he screamed, each word punctuated by another punch to its head. Then he threw it down on ground and began kicking it, before he dived on it. He grabbed a porno mag laying on the ground and began ripping pages out of it.
"You like dirty sex, do you? You like sex? Well here's some sex in your filthy spanish mouth!" he ranted as he screwed up the pages and stuffed them in the blow up dolls mouth.
The scene had definitely taken a turn towards the sick, but no one tried stopping the whirlwind. In truth, it was pretty damned funny, if only our neighbours thought the same way.
Screaming and cursing and punching all the while, he grabbed a rope that we hadn't bothered securing our tents with and tied it around Chiquitas neck. He then threw the other end of the rope over a branch of a tree on the pathway next to us.
"Cheat on me will you? Cheat on me you bitch! This is what we do to whores like you in my country!"
He then turned to me and grabbed the cigar out of my mouth "Give me that!" he said.
"Oi you tosser. i was smoking that!"
"You can oxf*rd off and all! You all stood by and let this happen!" he screamed whilst shoving the lit cigar into the paper filled mouth of the doll. Within seconds it caught fire and Brian pulled the other end of the rope and hoisted the now on fire sex doll into the air.
"See what you get! Ae you happy now bitch?! Are you happy now?!?! Brian screamed, as smoke billowed out into the warm evenings air.
I had always thought Brian was abit of a loose cannon but if I was ever in doubts about his mental health then this whole saga had confirmed it. Brian was quite clearly insane.
I stood up to get my cigar back and looked around me. Across the pathway was a tent full of off duty stewards and the women amongst them were stood with thier hands to their mouths, shaking their heads in horror. Everyone else in the campsite was stood looking at where this awful screaming was coming from and was greeted by my friend lynching a blow up from a tree with screwed up burning porn stuffed in it's mouth. I imagined what they must be thinking and it wasn't good. It was time to try and reel him back in.
"Brian mate" i said, placing my hand on his shoulder "it's probably best if you tone it down a bit. Everyones watching and there's a group of stewards over there, who clearly aren't impressed."
"I don't care!" Brian continued, "She has to pay for what she's done to me!"
"Brian, seriously, it's day one and we've got to stay here for the next week. You'll get us all kicked out."
He didn't listen and I ended up wrestling the rope off him. As the doll fell to the floor he gave it one last kick and screamed "You bitch! You've broke my heart!" before reaching for another drink.
It all ended and we sat again laughing and drinking, until 3 burly spanish security guards came walking down the path with the one of the girl stewards form the group across the way. She pointed over to where we were sat and the 3 guards bounded over. The biggest one was at the front and he started shouting at us and pointing to the pathetic sight of the doll on the floor. I had no idea what he was saying, but even without an A-level in spanish it was rather easy to tell that he was far from pleased.
"We don't speak, Spanish!" I explained, as he blared at us all. Someone was going to have to try and talk us out of this and i knew that person would have to be me. "Do any of you speak English?" I enquired politely. The smallest security guard at the back stepped forward and declared that he did. I took him to one side and explained that Brian had too much to drink, the sun had effected him and that his girlfriend had just left him (she hadn't) and all these things had momentarily fried his brain. The small security guard was a reasonable chap and explained that quite a few people had complained about the hanging and that the big one, who had been the one at the front gate, wanted to kick us all out right there and then and had been telling us to gather our things. I pleaded with him to reason with the big security guard- Our flights weren't for another week and we'd all be screwed. I also promised that I'd do my best to keep him in check and suggested that we should move our tents and all our things down to the empty field at the bottom. He went back and reported my pleadings and suggestions. I could see the big security guard looking over. His eyes said "English pigs!" I gave him a thumbs up and a begging/praying sign with my hands. The small security guard came back;
"OK, but you all have to move now. Take your tents and go down to that field. He says that if he gets any more complaints from you lot he'll kick your arse first and throw you all out!"
"Muchos Grazias, Signor!" I responded and shook his hand "Muchos muchos grazias, mate! You have my word that you won't here from us again."
He smiled, obviously appreciating my efforts to speak the lingo, and they left. I told the lads what had been said and we packed up things, ripped our tents out if the ground with very little effort as there was about 2 pegs holding each in place and carried them, still erect, to our new campsite.
When we got settled again, i turned to Brian;
"You're a f*cking liability. ALWAYS!"
"Calm down, Paul! Those tossers wouldn't have thrown us out. They were just trying to f*cking scare us!" he replied as he threw his bags and the doll into the tent and climbed inside.
"What are you doing?" i asked
"Nothing, just having the lie down. I'm knackered!" he replied with a smile.
"You're not going to....are you? You're going to ride it. After all she did to you!" I said in jest.
"Ah we've made up now. It was just a misunderstanding! We're in love again" he said with a bigger grin as he zipped up the tent. He then began talking lovingly to the doll again so that we could all hear. I sat back in my camp chair, took a swig from my wine and realised, it was going to be a long week!
LOL!!!! he sounds like a nutter!! :D
Good story!! lol
He is. In a nice, none serious way.
It was coming up to New Years Eve 2004 and, as always, my friends and I were debating what we were gonna do for the big night. We were struggling for ideas when my friend, Patrick, whose mum owned the Nags Head in Reading, told us to come to his pubs Fancy Dress party. Although it was only ever patronised by old Irish alcoholics who drank until they pissed their pants or shat themselves, we drank there quite a lot for one reason for another (probably because we knew we’d never get in trouble for the things we did in the bogs) but I really wasn’t hot on the idea of spending New Years eve there.
“Come on” said Paddy “It’ll be a great craic! We’ll get everyone down and we’ll all dress up and have a laugh.”
Without any other viable options we eventually decided to all go to the Nags for what would surely be the most badly organised Fancy Dress party ever.
We all went out and hired or bought costumes and on the early evening of the 31st, we met up in the pub. I had decided to go as Jesus. Allegedly there was a £50 first prize for the fancy dress and I thought my costume would appeal to their Irish sensibilities and prey on their overwhelming Catholic guilt. I got out of my taxi (the asian taxi driver didn’t even pass comment on my outfit but I’m fairly sure he charged me extra) and walked in the side entrance. At the bar I could see a Storm Trooper talking to a Knight and sat behind the door were Spiderman and my friend Barry dressed as Andy Pandy in a big light blue and white romper suit and cap with a teddy bear under his arm. (You might remember Barry from the Aida story).
“F*ck me lads, you don’t half look stupid!” i said in jest.
“Go f*ck yourself, Jesus!” said Barry
“That’s awfully big language for a baby!” I retorted.
We sat down and had a few drinks and waited for our other mates and girlfriends to arrive. They all came in and we did the usual gay laughing at each others costumes before we soon noticed that no one else in the pub was dressed up. Not a single person. In fact, the regulars were much more involved in eyeing up our girlfriends, especially one who had foolishly decided to come dressed as a Playboy Bunny in nothing more than a leotard and fishnet stockings.
I went to the bar. “Pat, I thought you said this was a fancy dress party. Why is no one else dressed in fancy dress? You’re not even dressed! Where’s your f*cking costume for a start?”
“Don’t sweat it, Paul! There’s more people coming. It’s still only early!”
“And what about your costume?”
“This IS my costume!” he said, whilst pulling at the multi-coloured jumper he had on.
“That’s not a costume! That’s just a shitty jumper you found in here last week. I was here, remember?”
“This is my costume. I’m a paedophile childrens TV presenter!” he said proudly “did you not notice the hair and slacks?”
He had swept his hair to the side and did look rather creepy, but there was no way anyone could pass his outfit off as a costume. I was getting the feeling we had all been duped. This was typical Patrick.
I sat back down with the drinks when my Storm Trooper friend, Brian, suggested that we all head into town for a bit and came back a bit later.
“I’m not going anywhere dressed like this!” i replied.
“Did you not bring a change of clothes? We all got changed here.”
“What! Nobody told me! I came in a taxi dressed like this! Oh, for f*cks sake! I’m certainly not going if you are all gonna get changed.”
“We won’t get changed. It’ll be funny if a few of us go. I need to meet Danny to get some bits and pieces anyway.”
“Won’t he come here?”
“Nah he’s been drinking and says we’ll have to go and meet him.”
A trip into town suddenly became more appealing. If we were going to get through this sham of a party, a pocket full of drugs was the only way forwards. So, after much deliberation, a few of the braver ones in the group decided to get up and have a few pints in town with a view to collecting the readies on the way back.
Along the way we got a few funny comments but it was all in jest and taken as so. We had a couple pints in the Allied and then went off to collect the gear, before we made our way back to the pub. As we passed Argos on the Oxford Road a group of about 6 chav lads came around the corner. They walked by and were laughing at our costumes. You don’t go out dressed like that unless you’re prepared to take a bit of stick, so we had some fleeting banter with them. It all seemed harmless enough until one of them turned to Barry;
“What the f*ck are you supposed to be? A fat baby?”
“Yes mate. It looks like you rented out the last of the Ali G costumes. Maybe I’ll have better luck next year.” Barry said immediately.
We all started to laugh, a few of his group even piped in, pointing at the guys brightly coloured oversized jacket and jeans set up.
“What? Are you f*cking taking the piss?” said the Chav. Barry had obviously shown him up in front of his gang and he wanted to claw some ground back. “I’ll f*cking smash this over your head” he gesticulated with the half empty bottle of Bud in his hand. His mates backed in around him.
“Oh really!” Barry laughed “Why don’t you try it!”
I could sense it was gonna get out of hand, “Just leave it Barry, lets get back to the party and leave these dickheads to it.” I rationalised. We all had drugs on us and i didn’t fancy spending a night in the cells dressed like Christ for fighting with a group of knobends.
“Dickheads! Who you calling dickheads? I’ll f*cking smash you up too, Jesus!”
His mates laughed behind him. It was obvious they were spoiling for a fight.
“Yeah of course you will, mate. Why don’t you just go off that way and we’ll go off this way.”
“No Paul, I want to see this little weasel smash that bottle over my head.” Barry said, all the while staring down their leader.
“Oh you do do you, you fat f*ck!” said the chav as he moved closer. Barry’s a big Irish guy, who digs holes for a living and can more than look after himself when he has to.
“Yeah I really do!” he said, maintaining his steely glare.
The chav lunged at Barry with the bottle raised over his head. He stopped about a foot away from where Barry was with the bottle still raised and stopped it just inches from his head. He was trying to make him flinch. Barry didn’t. Instead, he let fly with the meanest of right hooks and cracked the Chav on the jaw. The bottle hit the ground, followed swiftly by the Chav. All hell broke lose as the gang rushed forwards and we all waded in to meet them, fists flying. I got a few slaps in the face and dished a few back and I looked over to see my brother taking on two of them as Brian grappled with another. Barry, however was in the thick of it. The first Chav had got up and given Barry a punch in the head. Barry responded by knocking him to the floor again before moving on to another one. I can only imagine what all this must have looked like to anyone passing by- Jesus, Spiderman (in mask) and a Storm Trooper trading blows with a group of Chavs as a giant Andy Pandy went Berserker in the middle of it all. Thankfully the police never witnessed this and it ended as quickly as it began with the Chavs running off bruised and battered, shouting obsceneties and threats as they went.
“Oh yeah! Come back then, ya f*ckers!” Barry roared as he picked up the nearest thing to him and threw it in their direction.
“Hey! That’s my f*cking sandal, you knob!” I shouted at him. I hopped to retrieve it and we surveyed the damage. Barrys Andy Pandy costume was ripped down the seam, Spiderman and the Storm Trooper were fine. My wig had come off and my beard hung from my chin. I looked down and noticed that I had a bit of blood (probably my own from a split lip) splattered across my flowing white robes.
“Ah f*ck it! I’ve got to take this back to the shop on Monday. It’s ruined!”
“What are you talking about?” laughed Barry “It looks much more realistic now!”
There's still plenty more in the tank if you're interested and have the time?
do you want me to come on to you? it can be arranged
I'll post a couple more in a tick.
And regrettably, yes.
Suprisingly, looking at the stack of jazz mags I have propping up my bed, I've only been in a strip club once or twice. The last time was around 3 years ago on one of my best friends stag do in Budapest and it was a rather soul destroying experience. There was about 10 of us there and we had been out drinking all day. For some reason, rather than just have our own cash, another one of my friends insisted that we clubbed our money into a kitty for the day and just bought massive rounds for all. A simple enough idea in theory, but it ultimately led to later complications as to who had put in what and a few unnecessary rows broke out over the course of the day. A long, hazy drunken first day, which ended up with us all in the VIP area of this rather natty strip club. I had arranged for the Stag to have a private dance with two of the ladies of his choice. I'm not sure if any of you have ever been but there's no such thing as the No Touching rule in Hungary. Basically, you can do what you want and if you've got the cash you can really really really do just about anything your sad heart desires. I had a girlfriend at the time, coupled with the fact that the thought of paying someone to pretend they're enjoying dancing for you does absolutely nothing for me, so i was just sat at the bar having a drink and watching the girls float around in their skimpiest of skimpies. It was my turn to get the round in so i took control of the kitty and made sure everyone topped it up with 200 each of the local currency. When i went back to the bar I noticed that some idiot had put in 2000 (about £60) instead of 200 (£6) into the pot. If i went back to each of them and asked who had made the mistake, they would all undoubtably claim it was them and another needless row would ensue. So i took the executive and noble decision to keep quiet about the error. Everyone was smashed and if i just spent the money on a quick private dance with two of the pneumatic lovelies in there everyone would be none the wiser and i would be the secret hero/peacemaker of the hour. So i quickly made my choice and targetted a blonde and a brunette for a little ying and yang menage a trois. They took me by the hand, relieved me of my ill-gotten money and led me away to a curtained booth on the other side of the seedily lit room. In side of the room they immediately got down to their act and began gyrating away to the excruiating Euro Pop tones that were being blasted about the club. At this stage I wasn't aware that the No Touching rule did not apply and so sat there quietly watching with my hands on my lap right up until the brunette stripper took my hands and placed them right onto her fake boobies. This was all going great I thought, but then i was soon reminded why I had such an aversion to paying for this kind of thing when the two girls started talking to eachother in Pig Latin and started to completely fucking ignored me, despite the fact that I had a hand on one of each of their tits. I had no idea what they were talking about but they were talking about it with such little enthusiasm that it was probably something as mundane as what they had had for dinner or how theit stilletos were giving their corns gip. After a minute or so of putting up with them rabbiting on and ignoring me completely, i kicked up a bit of a stink by reminding them that i was still there and that if they wanted to talk they could do it on their own time. They must have understood what i said because they immediately turned their attentions to me. Due to a serious cheese addiction i was then battling, I was a couple fo stone overweight at the time and when one of them started pulling up my t-shirt, I got indredibly uncomfortable and immediately started pulling it down again before reminding her that i wasn't the one who was supposed to be getting naked here. "Whazza madder, Teddy Bear" the other one said in pidgin English."Teddy Bear!" I retorted "Fucking Teddy Bear!!!""Aaah Teddy Bear!!!" The other one giggled as she pulled up my t-shirt and poked me in my flabby belly, before the two of them burst into laughter and continued to talk to eachother in a language i could ill understand. Well this was the giddy limit! I had paid these women to do a sexy dance for me but had somehow found myself becoming the victim of their nasty abuse about my weight as they danced half-arsed and chatted about their fucking kids or something. For the remaining two minutes or so I sat with my arms folded, sulking and waiting for this shitty experience to end. When the music stopped the girls pulled back the curtains and i got out of there as soon as i could. As i walked dejectedly back to the bar, both strippers shouted out "Bye bye, Teddy Bear" and waved and giggled at me as i huffed off. Unfortunately, a couple fo my friends heard these hurtful Teddy Bear jibes and they ribbed me mercilessly with that name for months and months endlessly, until i could finally take no more and went and lost a shit load of weight by holing myself up at home and starving myself. And the worst of all this horrific story is that when i went to the bar after the dance to drown my sorrows, I looked in my wallet and discovered that the idiot who had put the £60 into the kitty by accident was none other than me.
managing to get yourself dissed by two strippers that you have paid with your own money is quite a hard thing to do i'd say.. :P
no rules in Hungry *phones travel agent*
you shall now be Teddybear in my head for life
Despite the crash diet. i still get called Teddy Bear to this day. The shame!
There she goes just a sittin in the snow
singing im a prostitute 10p a go
along came a tramp who gave her a pound
took her to the bedroom and bounced her up and down
9 months later her belly went pop
out came a baby with a paralysed cock
if you think that was bad then thats not all
the poor wee fucker only had one ball
what kind of story? humpty dumpty ?? =)
Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
All the king's horses and all the king's men
Couldn't put Humpty together again