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According to my stats, if you’re reading this, you must be a Zoophile.

30 Jan

WARNING: Do not read if you are adverse to naughty words such as “cock”, “vagina” and “fuck”.

It turns out that my captive audience seem to be a bunch of Zoophiles with a fetish for diseased vaginas.

Yes, if you are reading this, it is because you have most likely searched for the term “gorilla cock”, “gorillas having sex”, “gorilla with big ball sack” (this is one of my favourites), or “blue waffle vagina disease”, to name but a few. You may also be the one person that searched “men eating womens snot”. (Note, it should be “womens’ “, not “womens”, but I imagine that if you’re in the midst of a snot searching session, an apostrophe is the least of your worries.)

I’d like to extend my sympathy to whoever it was that searched “how hard is it to send a reply” (yes, missing a “?”); To this person, I would say “They’re just not that into you; But if it’s any consolation, they’re probably having sex with a gorilla at this moment in time.”

Now, God knows I’m all for being open-minded and liberal. I’ve done some “crazy” things in my time: I’ve run around naked, hugged a tree, been to a fetish party, indulged in things sexually that might be seen as a little “different”. Dammit, I’ve even been as rock and roll as to go into my bank account overdraft. You could never accuse me of being a stiff upper lipped Brit.

But even I am having just a little trouble finding the turn-on in gorilla porn. Or gorilla cock. Or gorilla ball bags. Or gorilla ejaculate. In fact, anything gorilla related. The same can be said for Blue Waffle.

On a brighter and completely unrelated note, I’m now going to shamelessly promote some of my other articles for you to read, so that you can cleanse your mind of bestiality.

There’s something for everyone: If you like (or in this case, hate) Daniel Craig, you can join in the hate-fest here.

Like (or hate) pussies? Here you go.

Want to watch a guy thrusting a long metal pole that is attached to his Y-fronts? (It’s really fucking funny.) Click me.

I’ve written some other shit too. If you really want to read it, go look it up.

One last thought for the day: There are other animals out there aside from gorillas. Mix it up a bit. Just saying.

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My Grandma’s naughty email. And my Dad’s boyfriend schedule update.

17 Jan

My Grandma's naughty email. And my Dad's boyfriend schedule update.

I’ve opened my inbox to find an email from my Grandma with the subject title of “Naughty”. I’ve not yet opened it. I’m too scared that I’m going to find some sort of sex video, dildo order confirmation or S&M magazine subscription that has been accidentally forwarded on to me due to those 85 year old eyes failing her.

What is just as worrying is that above said email, there is another one from my father, with the subject line of “Boyfriend schedule update”. Now, I know time is a-ticking and I’m not getting any younger, and God only knows the extent to which I’ve put myself out there for some unsuspecting member of the male species to ask me to MARRY HIM, desperately so at times.

But I was completely unware that Daddy had some sort of schedule to which I was to stick to, in luring these poor men to fulfil the position of “Boyfriend”. Maybe he’s toying with the notion that, having never had a boyfriend before, his daughter may in fact be a lesbian. (I’m not.)

Unless, of course, the email is actually a long over-due admittance from my father, that he himself is gay, and has decided to find himself a boyfriend? Something that comes along with a mandatory periodical update?

I’m not sure which is worse; It’s all swings and roundabouts I guess. (Urgh, image of grandma on sex swing/ S&M carousel.)

So, the question now is, do I open these emails and confront the kinky Old Aged Pensioner and watch-tapping, possibly gay father?

I may just fail to acknowledge having even received these messages, and just forward them both my daily Penis Enlargement special offers instead. That, or the link to my online sex tape. Awkward much?

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“Do u still want me to send u a pic of it?” Errr, who are you?

29 Nov

So the other day, I had the absolute displeasure of receiving this text message from some unknown fucktard called “Phil”.

Phil is a pushy bastard – after receiving no reply from me, he sent me another message asking “Wud u like it hard or soft?” before sending me yet another message, telling me (note, not asking me) to send a picture of myself.

Phil – whoever the hell you are – FUCK OFF.

Would it be completely wrong to send him a picture of a Blue Waffle? (Not my own of course. Mine’s pretty, and not at all blue or waffley.)

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Video WTF Of The Week

24 Nov

I watched this. I laughed. I nearly shat myself a little. If you are immature like me, you will enjoy this. A man is thrusting his cock and pulling faces for Pete’s sake, how could you not enjoy it?

Yes it’s Hallowe’en. No I don’t want to see your gooch.

4 Nov

I love Hallowe’en as much as the next fat kid. I’m all over it like a tramp on chips. It means for one day of my life, I can wake up, get out of bed, not put on any make-up and generally walk around like the munterish slob that I am, and yet people will still think I’ve made a conscious effort to look that fugly.

It’s an excuse to eat even MORE junk than usual. You can be creative and cut shit shapes into large fruit. For some girls, it’s an excuse to knock on random neighbourhood doors in the hope that your future husband may be waiting behind one of them. (I don’t do that…) For some guys, it’s a way of hiding in dark alleyways ready to commit the most violent crimes, and fob it off as a Hallowe’en “trick”. It’s a valid way of scaring the bejeezus out of unsuspecting small children without getting arrested, just because it’s funny. Everyone’s a winner.

Everyone, that is, except for anybody that has EYES and happens to be outdoors after 7pm. For beware the Curse of the Exposed Flange.

Somehow, somewhere, appear a generation of females that think it’s OK to use Hallowe’en as an excuse to LITERALLY get their wounds out. I, for one, do NOT appreciate seeing readily available gooch wherever I turn my head.

The other night I had the absolute displeasure of sitting at the train station opposite not one, but TWO peeping vaginas. Added to that, my eye was nearly poked out by an unsheathed nipple. Apparently it is now effort enough to wear what I can only describe as NO CLOTHES, draw a couple of stitches on your neck with an eyeliner pencil, et voila, you are now a zombie prossie. I know the look is meant to be monstrous, but this really takes the word “growler” to a whole new level. Whatever happened to just wearing a bed-sheet with eye holes?

I honestly do love Hallowe’en. But please, ladies, for the love of GOD (and for the sake of my visual and mental health), put your minge away.

What a ball-ache.

29 Oct

I’ve set up this site to report or rant on all things that I consider to be a ball-ache. I hope some of you may find solace in some of the things written here, by knowing that someone else shares your pain. Others of you will find the things written here offensive. That’s because you yourself are a ball-ache.

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