Tag Archives: Sex

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?

Skyfall? SkyBALLS.

7 Nov

So, I should precede this article by firstly saying that I have not watched every James Bond film, nor have I seen the most recent variation on a theme, entitled Skyfall; (I should point out that Skyfall is SUCH a stupid name, my spellchecker has highlighted it in red.) But I don’t give a tiny rat’s arse – I’m going to slam it anyway…

WHY do I feel like it’s Groundhog Day and I am, once again, having Daniel Craig’s dry-lipped pout being rammed down my throat? As offensively sexual as I would actually find that, I am BORED of seeing his good looks plastered across every billboard, TV screen, chocolate bar, condom packet etc… In fact, I hear he’s even advertising Heinken beer now. I mean… REALLY?? Get some standards, Danny C. Shake and don’t stir THAT bad boy and I’ll tell you what happens: beer jizzy. All over your face.

Needless to say, I shan’t be spending my monies on watching Skyballs on the big screen. In fact, I will bet you money that I could predict the beginning, middle and end, as well as any twists. (I won’t. But only ‘cause I’m poor.)

SPOILER ALERT!

Daniel Craig is running/jumping/sexing in some corner of the world. He receives a call from Agent M (or Agent A, or Agent B, or Agent C, or even Agent F-U-C-K-O-F-F) telling him to stop mouth raping the woman he is with and get his tight little arse back to London. He then gets shown some pictures of baddies. He then goes to find them. He finds aforementioned baddies. He shoots them with all of his big scary guns. They shoot back. He shoots again. They shoot back again. He shoots some more. Bang bang bang. Shoot shoot shoot. Woops – he accidentally trips over and lands with his cock inside several hot women. The baddies shoot some more. Daniel Craig throws a bomb and everyone DIES. Except for him of course. Because if he didn’t die, none of us would be able to sit in the cinema in 2 years’ time watching the same bullpoop.

You’ll notice that I forgot to predict the big twist. The twist is that Adele turns up and sings a song about never minding cause she’ll find someone like you and then she’ll make them feel her love and then they’ll roll in the deep before she sets fire to some rain (how do you even do that?) and it’ll be a song in a minor key that is all about getting your heart broken and bla friggin’ bla. Oh, wait. THAT’S not a twist. That’s Adele’s Groundhog Day.

So, one and all, enjoy spending many of your Great British Pounds on watching a great British tosser run around and shoot ‘em up. I’ll be bitterly flicking my bean to the thought of Daniel Craig tripping over and falling on me. Or in me. Or both.

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