... entitled ''Me & Neets out in Tarn'' : I know most of you lot think I'm just a spotty, wafer thin ham lover - but i'm not really. When my dad, Uncle Albert off Only Fools & Horses, first started taking me to the Manx Arms it was the only thing I was bothered about, I used to live waiting for Saturday Neets to come around for the next loving session, a spit roasting by two big Darkies would mean I was on a high for the rest of the week whereas a quick hand job from Jay would leave me in a manic depression for most of the weekend. Come the next big gay orgy, however, all was forgotton and was as 'optomistic' as ever. Since my dad stopped going, however (he goes to the John Peel evenings at Le Chambre) it has been a lot different, the incompetant bummers and the use of sheaths have made being dry loved really hard more of a chore than a hobby, and now I go not because I want to but because I feel I have to. Another £2.80 thrown the Taxi drivers way earlier this month for my new bum AIDS test - plus hundreds more for the gay day outings. In previous years I couldn't wait for the cack canoodling to start. New stripy shirt, open gay day, fudgey friendlies, first bum of the season etc etc. Now I just can't be arsed, literally, and wouldn't mind going shopping for butt plugs on August 5th or whenever it is. Maybe the continuous lies of previous homosensuals has taken some of the shine away from my chocolate star? Maybe this was the case before and I was too young and naive to see it, whatever it is - being loved int the same.
Eyup cocker. How's things? I'm still trying to work out why he would pay a Taxi driver £2.80 for an AIDS test. I think I've gone completely mental.
RE: Eyup cocker. "How's things?" Not too bad thankyouverymuch, how about you? "I'm still trying to work out why he would pay a Taxi driver £2.80 for an AIDS test." I was actually wondering the same. "I think I've gone completely mental." I've already known that for a while. <img src=http://users.fdn.com/~young/pix/akane_laugh.jpg> ihihihihi
I'm okay-ish. Windy & Jay tried to spit roast me on Setdi neet. The filthy bumdogs. Got a bottle of Finlandia at home with my name on it. It hasn't really. It says 'Finlandia' on it.
Just coughed strawberry across the desk at that. You run-away chubster. Can't understand why you traded an evening with the GAB's with spending the night knocking the smoke out of a fit bint.
RE: Just coughed strawberry across the desk at that. is that where he disappeared to! Thought hed been loacated and shot on sight by a crazeee woman from the week before! Anyway what exactly happened with thee doing a forward roll into the bogs? Did you get the piss stains out of your shirt - or av i put my foot in it and that was that your shirt? ff
Ballax - I'd forgotten about that. My logic is very bizarre. I've just tripped up the steps & barged into some young lady. The obvious thing is to say sorry. I say 'soz spadge' then do a series of forward rolls until I reach the door of the Gents. And I still can't understand why. Proper, proper ... FFS sideways.
