I was bit of a late bloomer at school and I aint sure why but women never really interested me that much and chasing them like all the other boys did weren’t really my thing. I got my student kicks out of acts of emotional terrorism towards the teachers and back then, pissing the teachers off often resulted in some serious physical abuse which I must say entertained me.

There was one girl who I did like called Tracey and we “hung out” quite a lot and inevitably I got a hard on every time I saw her. One day I remember thinking “yeah!… this is the one I want to get my brown wings with“ and from that day on it became my mission in life. We were already kissing and feeling each other up and stuff but the school boy testosterone was beginning to take over and it was time to give the first Scottie implant.

Luckily for me she was up for it too and one bleak and miserable evening I was round hers playing on the Spectrum and things heated up somewhat. Now you know when it’s sex time, it’s like a second sense us guys have when we are getting it on and it doesn’t matter how good the fore play is we instinctively know if it’s gonna head to the deed. Well this was one of them times and I was ready, she was ready and the condoms I nicked out of my dads drawer were definitely ready.

So there we were getting it on in a bedroom covered in more cuddly toys than a coconut throwing stall at a Pikey fair. Vast pink walls plastered with some rather off-putting posters of Bros, Michael Jackson and Rick Astley staring down at me. Despite our mute audience of celebrity gayness the fire in the bed was raging out of control and it was time to sink the submarine for the very first time and boy did it go in with a whollop.

So there we were screwing away with all the grace of a penguin ice skating and life was good, today was the day I would become a man. I was banging away for all of thirty seconds and it was time for me to leave the deposit in a strangely unfazed and confused looking girl, but because I didn’t know any better I thought it was basically normal.

So without going into vulgar details I gave her the fattest cream pie and stood up to view my first sexual master piece. Now I weren’t a sex expert but I had watched enough Peter North porn to know that moocow’s dribble when you’ve poked em in the eye, but this one was as dry as a bone and to say I was confused was an understatement.

“Did you enjoy that?” she said calmly as she pulled the wet semen soaked pillow from under her ass. She burst into fits of laughter and I wanted the damn floor to open up and swallow me in an embarrassment, only over shadowed by my serious stupidness and uselessness.. I had shamefully lost my virginity to stupid pillow case that had a big embossed picture of Michael Jackson on it and the shame was unbearable.

From that day on me and Tracey were good mates and it’s remained a secret that every now and then puts a smile on my face, but only because we had a rematch ten years later proving myself with a grade A performance. Something tells me if I hadn’t had the chance of a replay I would have had a phobia of pillow cases for a very long time.

And I never got my brown wings either… dammit!

Before I met the woman my eating habits consisted of eating either at me Nan’s or what ever pile of shite I successfully managed to nuke in the microwave without it turning into a burnt out house‘s sofa. Going out for dinner just weren’t something I did, the closest I ever got to a civilized meal was buying a kebab after a piss up of blood, alcohol and a series of love bites after playing pull the pig.

Eating out for me is atrociously expensive for the simple reason being that when I go out to eat I choose what normally is considered as the top meal. I wont choose shite like Cod and chips, Sausage and Mash and crap like that because I can cook that myself and it defeats the idea of eating out in the first place. I choose Mixed Grills, Lasagne's and anything that contains lavish helpings of dead animal flesh… a vegetarian I totally aint.

I like menus that basically cut to the chase, here’s an example of a dish taken out of a Witherspoon menu and how much bollocks they talk…

Now basically what it roughly translates into is Pie and Mash, the rest is a desperate attempt to get the piss heads eating their over priced warmed up meals. What in Jesus’ sandals is a Portobello Mushroom? More importantly who gives a flying fuck? A mushroom the last time I looked is a mushroom, them silly little things the gnomes sit on while fishing. “Slow cooked farm assured British beef?” Roughly translated it means “reheated pie made in England but don’t worry it aint got BSE!” (or mad cow disease to the data inept)

Another criminal of talking total bullshit is McDonalds, but they do it with images rather than words. As you can see from the cracking evidence I have so generously supplied, a simple thing such as a cheese burger is blatantly sold to us under misconception and total criminal false advertising. The cheese burger on the left is a promotional picture of a cheese burger from their shit website, I got it from their website so they couldnt sue me for slander… the rather shit image of an exhausted UFO on the right is the actual cheese burger I bought in McDonalds… sinister fuckin wankie shit criminals!


Subway… eat fresh! Right I’ll stop them there… two things… it aint fresh and I know that because someone I know works in one. The processed meat savaged, salad slopped roll you eat from a Subway is FRESHLY MADE not fresh! My little insider informed me that the rolls are frozen and heated up to order and the fillings are always a day behind to save waste, so in effect if you walk into a Subway and buy a roll when it opens you will be eating the shit from the day before… so help me out here guys… how is that fresh?! Bit of a trading standards issue there and misleading the customers me thinks.

There are places I do like obviously, Wimpy is very under rated these days and their burgers are like heaven on earth. Chinese restaurants are top notch and because their menus are incredibly simplistic, no bullshit and have more variety meaning eating at them has the benefit of never getting boring.

If I had my way I would have Chinese every night, a greasy bacon sandwich for breakfast and some lovely raw wet pussy just before bedtime with a cup of hot chocolate or a Horlicks… but it don’t work out like that and luckily for my now shrinking waist line I’m pretty glad.

One thing that I have often wondered though… does pussy juice have calories? If so I think I now know why I’m a fat fucker… because it aint the food I swear!