One of the disadvantages of an upbringing solely dominated by a wonderful mum, Nan and neurotic auntie is the bullshit they feed you about life as you grow up. I remember yarns about finding a good decent girl, settling down and having a wonderful life of love, loyalty and happiness.

The first thing as guys your taught is to find yourself a good girl with the morals of a nun, someone to take care of you and look after you through the digs and jabs of a life dominated by testosterone and the loyal psychotic appendage that sits in your boxers.

Now after dating, drunken one night stands, stoned fuck buddies and countless relationships with women that have been as satisfying as eating a walnut after three weeks of starvation do I know the truth. I have vowed to tell my boys (if I have boys) the unpleasant truth from the start, secretly if I must beyond the ears of their lucky mother if I have to… I want my children to be happy and to milk life of every experience they can before they inevitably snuff it off the mortal coil of a boring life.

The objectionable truth is that nice girls are as boring as daytime television and the only way they are gonna get any kind of sexual fulfillment is if they find a chick that’s had more stabs than a heroin addict. Nice girls are a total fucking nightmare, waiting weeks for sex at a time is no fun in the slightest and considering its something both partners are supposed to enjoy it ends up giving us guys the feeling that she would rather strap a firework to her face than get giggedy giggedy goo in the sack.

It’s not only the upbringing that tells you this bull either, religion is another demon of forcing you to live a long healthy life of woman less and soulless fun. The Extreme Muslim faith is another banal contender of stabbing the eyes of exuberance, I’m sure you’ve all heard the theory of sacrifice in the name of God gives you a substantial amount of virgins in heaven… I mean seriously… why would you do that… the fact that these fucking idiot girls managed to die virgins in the first place means that they are either four years old or that the fuckers are too tight to dish it out in the first place, so why the fucking hell would you want to spend the rest of eternity with them?

To be hoodwinked by a religion promising such a nightmare of non sex in the first place means that these extremists get what they fucking deserve anyway. Suicide bombing in itself is as bright as trying to fuck a light socket nevertheless, who says they wont end up going to heaven as just a brain in a jar while their cock rots hanging from a tree in Iraq? If heaven is full of virgins anyway then I’ll take the express elevator to hell at any rate, I’ll say with great pride to God

“look sorry mate, it sounds okay an all that… but playing harps and sitting with Take That fans aint really my thing… so give Satan a ring and tell him to put the kettle on for me!”

Now days when I’m dating I’m only interested in shit spewing bitches with a whole line of ex boyfriends and a ton of filthy references, sex is the only thing that one… I’m good at… and two… it’s the only thing I’m ready to do 24-7. So surly its in my best interests to have a girl that’s totally indecent, raucously good in bed and one that puts out like twice a week at least.

Has anyone here been out with a virgin? For those of you that aint had the pleasure I’ll fill you in on what your luckily missing. For a start they are emotionally high maintenance, you forever treading on eggshells and your forever failing to get anywhere near bare flesh, and the older they are the bloody worse they are.

Okay so you’ve spent a year of giving her your coat while in monsoons, opening the car door for the lazy shite and buying her everything shes ever wanted and she’s decided “she’s ready”… so what then… fucking run like hell. I once gave a girl a condom to put on me, it’s always a hundred times better if she does it and it’s much less of a passion killer. She opens it and unrolls the bloody thing before my John Thomas is even out in the fresh air, I watched in pure amazement as she tried stuffing my pecker in it like she was putting her arm through her jumper sleeve.

The deed itself was a pure fucking disaster from the word go, imagine trying to fuck a plug hole and that’s pretty much it spot on. I gave up on her that day, virgins over the age of 20 have totally no desire to learn… if you try to give them advice they act like you’ve just slapped their ass with a damp towel.

Trust me guys… if you wanna get on in life and be happy… find yourself a fire breathing, venom spitting whore, you’ll be a lot happier.

One of the many things that women just don’t understand and that’s that us men are doomed from the birth, we have been selfishly born with a second conscience and we share our mortal bodies with another egotistical and more powerful entity… the penis! Despite us being rumored to be able to control the ugly beast from down under, in reality it’s much harder (no pun intended) than it’s commonly claimed by our women.

As soon as we awake in the morning the bloody thing stares up into our nostrils like the spear of destiny until we take him for a piss. It’s the first thing we scratch and it’s the only true friend a guy is garunteed to have by his side through thick and thin. On the flip side however it gets us into heaps of trouble, it doesn’t have complete control over us obviously, but theres definitely some scart leads linking us together somewhere.

Because of my boy I’ve woke up next to hung over walrus’s, slept with chicks that have boyfriends the size dinosaur shits, been caught wanking at work in the toilets and been rumbled by teachers sneaking around the girls dorms on school trips. He is in no better use of the term… TROUBLE! Even now at the grand old age of 33 the fucker lands me in it with the trouble and strife… romantic dinners, night time cuddles and quality time gets gate crashed by the obtuse and ignorant bastard.

He even turns sex into a game of death for the women, completely ruining the job he’s perfectly built for, it’s litterally impossible for the little minger to lose weight. I could diet for months and lose four stone every where except there, he’s like a little plug in pest that won’t fuck off until I get my mid life crisis. All I hear are screams of “it’s too tight” “it hurts my stomach” “it’s uncomfortable” and other clichés of maybe an overly tight woman. I mean for fucks sake the little tyke aint porn star big or nothing, he’s just a fat fucker that obviously far too over zealous. As soon as the women agree to sex he hacks into my mind making me take back seat, sometimes I swear I’ve heard it say “Watch and learn! Watch and fucking learn!”

Another thing about the pocket pest is the fact that he is deliberately awkward, he tries his best to really get on your nerves by trying to embarrass you as much as possible or failing to engage when you really need him to. The classic case is when your sitting on your own or just about to get in the bath and the fucker is all proud, not erect but a good solid size that makes you proud of him… I’m sure you know that feeling guys.

Now why can’t the little fucker do that when we are getting changed in a public changing room or when your date pulls him out for the first time? Oh no, he would rather pull a fat one on when I’m sitting on a bus, or when I’m at the gym or playing squash. Why don’t cock’s work when your drunk? What’s the point? The one bloody time he’s guaranteed to get action with any form of woman, no matter how rough or frightfully rank she may, the little annoyance is permanently out to lunch, if your lucky he’ll pop back for a couple of strokes but it aint long before he’s nobbed off again.

What I don’t understand is that why if they have such a pivotal role is sex, why are they created so damn ugly? They are as attractive as a shrunken pensioner’s leg, an organic foul looking roll on deodorant with attitude. How women stick them down their throat is far beyond me and despite how wonderful it actually is, I would rather have my head sewn to the underside of Alladin’s magic carpet than put a cock in my mouth.

I guess I’m doomed to suffer with my cock to the day I die, it’s one of them cases where you can’t live with them and you can’t live without them. As much as he is a bane on my life life I would certainly be lost without him and if he ever did fall off or stopped working, I would have to take the pills and end it… when the sex is taken out of life all you are left with is work… fuck that!

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!

Being me is never easy and the one thing I want in life is an easy life, it’s not that I’m lazy or anything like that… I’m talking about women. Poor Sarah had no idea what she let herself in for the day she asked me out because I do get my fair share of admirers and normally they are either unhinged in some way or just blatant horrid pond life. This month I’m involved in a complicated three way game of death between my girlfriend, my best friend and her friend the crazy lesbian.

This week Sarah has had the misfortune of meeting Kerry, actually it’s okay they get on great and no doubt they will end up good friends. There’s only one tiny problem… Kerry is hell bent on getting me and Sarah into a sleazy three in a bed romp along with a scary collection of rubber cocks and industrial vibrators capable of hitting at least an eight on the Richter scale.

It’s all very well and good and I can hear you guys shouting at me from here, but Kerry is like a totally obsessed sex fanatic and self proclaimed expert. She makes wads of cash in the States on “business holidays” with her husband and EX mate of mine, Steve… making PORN! So the idea of jumping into bed with a woman that knows more tricks than Paul Daniels with a copy of Playboy TERRIFIES me. Plus to add the fact that this bird has had some seriously big cock too is even more intimidating because I’ve only got half an inch and a dozen wrinkles and that’s in the warm weather.

Kerry at the end of the day is my mate and has been for nearly twelve years, she’s trained me on all forms of sexual tricks ranging from oral sex, dildo action and even kissing so I’m eternally grateful as is the permanently happy girlfriend… the only problem is that now after all these years of sexual training Kerry has decided it’s time for my one on one exam and Sarah is about as pleased as John Prescott with an empty fridge.

Now as if matters aint difficult enough there is Candice, this vile ex lesbian and bisexual monster of ego and slaggism has the disability of not being able to shut her legs properly. She has been a pain in my ass for almost as long as I’ve known Kerry and she shows no sign of letting me live an easy life either.

Basically the problem is I’m the only guy that’s ever said no to her, I aint gay or nothing it’s just that one… I like my girls bigger than her, two… she’s got the mankiest feet I’ve ever seen (which is very important) and three… she has the attitude of a schizophrenic seagull on a diet of steroids… so her chances are below zero anyway.

Now Candice is good friends with Kerry and Candice has told Kerry that she will seduce and fuck me under any means necessary… so Kerry being Kerry has told Sarah, and Sarah being Sarah is now shopping in Homebase for the biggest fucking chainsaw she can find so she can perform the worlds messiest and most painful vivisection.

Sarah is taking it all very well I must say, she knows I don’t encourage it any way whatsoever and I’m sure if she thought there was a problem I would have woke up without a cock ages ago. But my life is always complicated and it’s always either lack of money or too many women trying it on with me… why cant it be too much money and lack of women… now that’s an easy life.

One thing that's always puzzled me and that's sexual indifference, what I mean is that how such an important act that's obviously done by both men and women together can mean two totally different things. Sex has been one of those things that come between men and women every hour, every day of every month of every year... it's the one thing that stops us getting on with each other properly and it's the only thing that can chemically attract each other in the first place.

So what the hell is sex? Okay... first let’s have a look at the rather bland dictionary nerdy description...

Sex noun the activity of sexual intercourse or Making Love, or the activity of people kissing and touching each other's bodies to experience pleasurable feelings also called "Making Love"

Or...

Intercourse noun... the sexual activity in which the male's penis enters the female's vagina, or the sexual activity in which a male's penis enters another male's or a female's anus

Both descriptions are pretty mediocre and both taken from the Cambridge Dictionary, so obviously sex aint really a subject that the University nerds are well educated with. Try looking up Star Trek, World of Warcraft and Particle Physics and they don't stop gibbering.

The thing I like the most is that it's so flippantly described as an "activity"... like chess, bird watching or stamp collecting. If anything it's a sport, two sweaty combatants fighting against each other to get the better of the opponent, the prize being the mother of orgasms and to smugly turn the opponent into a sore knackered vegetable... yep... that definitely sounds like a sport to me!

Obviously the primary reason for sex is to breed our replacements, but us humans are far from seeing it that way, me especially. Humans and bloody Dolphins of all things are the only creatures on this appallingly dismal and fucked up planet that have sex for fun and recreation, so if you die and come back as anything other than those, the next time you get a beef injection your pretty much guaranteed to get knocked up in the same sitting.

Making Love

The other term in the first description that has me pretty confused is the noun "Making Love!" What the hell does make love mean? Okay, so I know the idea behind it but as far as doing it is bloody impossible and women both hate me and love me for it. I have been in six proper relationships and three of them I have been "in Love" and do you know how many times I have "made love"?

NEVER! Not once! It is not physically possible for me to "make love" in the Mills and Boon narrative of the word because one, my body has an autopilot and two... Mills and bloody Boon sex is appallingly boring!

Despite my best intentions and how we start it’s next to impossible for me and I can't do it, it must be like a disability or something, maybe something missing in my head perhaps. We start off with a romantic meal in a fancy restaurant and maybe a walk holding hands through a sickening sunset, whispering nothings into our romantically charged ears and hearts... and then we kiss...

... From that kiss Mr Winkie awakes and my mind and actions are now his... any attempt while he's awake to "make love" and my inner porn star demon takes over and all fucking hell breaks loose. There's cock gagging blowjobs, clit sucking waterfalls, kidney cracking penetrations, butt stretching anal, ear splitting screams and face soaking facials... there's sore ass slapped butt cheeks, sore throats, swollen bits, bite marks, ruined make up, messed up hair styles, broken beds and split condoms everywhere.

And frighteningly of all, that’s when I love someone, one night stands despite their rarity are normally like the Incredible Hulk having a seizure. Now I aint small, I'm 6'3" and I weigh in at 18 sometimes 19 stones, so any girl that gets into the bed with me needs either really good breaks or needs to be a total hardcore crack whore bitch that likes that sort thing.

There's a Reason maybe...

Now as far as boyfriends go I'm pretty soft, laid back and pretty much as harmless as a cotton wool fight. I've never hit a woman in my life and I definitely don't argue if I can help it. The girl has enough freedom to be as happy as Larry so she can do what she likes when she likes and with whomever she likes. So it makes me wonder if sex is an extension or an outlet of perhaps dominance or maybe even punishment.

Because the girl is pretty much living an easy life due to my emotional laziness, the hardcore side of me lays dormant because it's merely an extension of my sexual desire... my cock being the catalyst or key to my negative energies.

I guess I may never know until I see a proper psychologist or some other lazy half assed quack that failed medical school, which I must add may never happen. I don't get any complaints what so ever and until then I'll just continue the way I'm doing it, but sometimes I do wonder why I am the way I am... and I'm pretty sure there's a few people out there that wonder too...

Scott
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