Dear world,
today, my world is revolving slowly; sometimes speeding up and occasionally going very faaaaaaaaasssst AROUND the TOILET BOWL... thanks to tequ-qu-qu-qui-i-i-ila-la-la-la-laaaaaa!!!!!!!! Every orifice is presenting me with problems; firstly, ofcourse, my sphincter is on overdrive, opening and closing; but mostly OPENING on demand... and, naturally; closing at the right times... I'm like a conductor and the body is my orchestra... the SPHINCTER IS MY CYMBAL CRASH.... if I were a piece of music I would be something like Wagner or Tchaikovsky or Elgar or something like that... I know that because my mum's brother is a cellist with the Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra... whenever he comes to visit he brings loads of cd's and tapes and old records and stuff... AND we went to see him playing a couple of times; he's pretty cool and I like listening to all the tapes and stuff he brings; that's a fucking education; plus he tells me all about the different instruments and how french horn players are usually bi-sexual and bassoonists are dangerous fuckers who you should never double-cross... Also, female flautists are control freaks; that's what uncle Colin says anyway... he might be wrong, but he's fucked all the flautists he's ever met ...(that's what he SAAAAAYS...) and he reckons the female ones are fucking dominatrixes, and all the male ones are fucking roll-over pussies!!!!!!!!????? Maybe flute-playing brings out the opposite sex in you....??? or something... Or female flautists have an Oedipal penis-envy complex or whatever; and male ones go for the flute coz its a sort of soft fluttery flickery instrument. Fuck knows; I'll ask Colin to have a chat with his doctor friend; get them to mull it over for a while... Someone will be writing a thesis on it right now.....................
My favourite is Rachmaninov.
Shit, I've got to SHIT HELLO toilet bowl, did you miss me.... aaaaaaaaaah you're still warm; still steaming with the sweat from my bony olive ARSE the problem with shitting and puking in a static caravan is that when you shit it stinks the whole FUCKING caravan park out... and people start taking their washing in and ushering their kids and their donkeys inside and scattering their animals and all that shit and their birds fly away and they don't come out for about an hour... ACTUALLY now I come to think of it it's fucking brilliant; I'll have the place to myself today; SHIT yesterday I had the shock of my young life BLOODY HELL I wandered into the toilets in the bar and took a wrong fucking turn and ended up in the Ladies, I mean I was smashed out of my head and I could hardly focus or fucking stand straight and pushed open this door to the fucking cubicle; coz I wanted a shit, and this bird's bending over putting a fucking TAMPAX inside her and she's got her fucking legs wide open you know and her skirt rolled up and her tights round her ankles and one leg resting up on the toilet with her knee against the wall and the other just stationary on the floor and she's struggling right with her aim and she's a bit fuckign blethered poor fucking chick and she's a bit wobbly and woozy and that so I'm like -Do you want a hand luv??
and she's like -I caaaan't get this tampax iiiiiiiiiiiin! I'm FUCKED! I mean; she was a fucking lush and that's it; lushes just find every fucking activity they undertake absolutely fucking incomprehensibly unutterably DIFFICULT and OVERWHELMING... it doesn't matter what it is, I mean making a cup if tea and they freak out or brushing their teeth or having a bath -it's just all so fucking complicated and too much like a waste of time or hard work or whatever; but DRINKING!!! that's a fucking cynch; and when they've had ENOUGH down their necks, they can undertake ABOLUTELY ANY job you ask them... like -put up them shelves for me will you? I can't do it. -Yeah no problem, fine, I'll get my tool kit and sooooooort it fooooor ya. -Cheers. Lushes are eeeeeeeeaaaaasy, they're a piece of piss if you know how to handle them; it's a case of catching them at that point between sobriety and oblivion. They're perfect if you catch them at the right time... Anyway, she's looking at me through her bleached hair; and she's got these dark roots and I reeeeeaaaaally like dark roots, they fucking do something to me get my loins stirred and shaken and ready for it man; I don't know why, and her make up's all fudged up one her face and all oily and like a fucking artist's pallette her face is, and then she falls over 'coz her balance is fucked and she half gets up and kneels like a dog, dirty slut; and I'm looking at her and I'm like -You've got a hole in your tights love. so she says -Yeah, I've got another one too; HERE and she points at her pussy and its still there, wet and open and FUCKING WAITING FOR ME..... so she slides along the floor and comes and puts her head up against my jeans; right against my crotch dirty bitch, and then she licks my zip and bites into the denim and I'm thinking come on slut, get hold of my dick take it in your mouth; and then she FUCKING DOES; she unzips me and pulls down my boxers and I was soo fucking hard and she started doing the business with ehr tongue little circles and with her hands right at the bottom of my shaft oooooooh fuck and then I'm squirting everywhere and she's got cum all over her face and in her hair and I'm rubbing her face into my balls and my dick and then she starts crying... CRYING????? and starts hammering on the floor with her hands and clawing at the tiles with her nails.. I mean, FUCK I didn't know what to do so i gave her a cigarette you know to calm her down and get her head a bit straighter and then she just sat there and smoked it and I fucked off. I mean, my cum was all stuck to her face and I just thought about that for hours afterwards. I felt really fucking happy thinking about that.
Harry