Cunts Shopping!

Cunts Shopping!

Last modified on 2012-06-21 06:20:02 GMT. 0 comments. Top.

Nelson Mandela Dead In Gary Glitter Time Fuck

Last modified on 2012-05-30 22:32:42 GMT. 0 comments. Top.

“Gary, wake up!”

I wasn’t totally sure it was happening but the words kept repeating and the voice was so, well, fuckable that I was almost wrenched into conciousness. I couldn’t see properly because my eyes were still fogged over and the lights where I was, wherever I was, were way too bright. It reminded me of being on stage in my prime, looking out at the fans singing along to my songs at my biggest gigs. A bit like this:

I rubbed my eyes and realised that my other senses were as clouded as my vision but one thing was becoming clear very quickly: there had been two voices, not just one, and they belonged to stunning blonde twin nymphos, well I hoped they were nymphos. They weren’t really in my preferred age group, they must have been in their twenties whereas I, a man in my sixties, preferred women closer to my own age, but no man would be able to see these girls and not feel a little penile affection for them.

They didn’t seem to feel much for me though. As slaps hit my shoulders from each girl in a violent attempt to move me the pain told me they’d been trying for a while. Once I stood up though they were happier. Either side of me they whispered “Come with us” and their hot breath on my ears seemed to shake off the rust that I’d woken up with. I was awake, aroused and as I looked around while being lead by both hands I could now see I was in a casino.

Something seemed strange though I couldn’t place it, and it had to be pretty high on the weirdometer for me to notice given that I had no idea how or why I was there or why these two cracking sets of pipes were looking after me right now. As we approached a roulette table another shock hit me – I was in America. Either that or I was at a convention for the world’s biggest cunts. Yank voices could be heard all around me when last I knew I was having a ruby in Rochdale. There was more amiss even than that but I couldn’t dwell because an arm went round me and the sweet breathy whispering of one of the twins returned. “The next number will be 22” she said before kissing me on the cheek and stepping away. Then it was the other one’s turn. “After that it’ll be 4, 0 19, 19 and 11. See you tomorrow at midday” she added before sticking a large envelope in my suit pocket and following her sibling.

The dealer announced that there would be no more bets and I watched, gripped, as the ball bounced unhurriedly from number to number as the roulette wheel slowed down before settling on number 22. I was buzzing and ran in the direction that the sisters had taken but they had lost themselves among the many hundreds on the gaming floor. I felt in my pocket and took out the envelope as I made my way carefully back to the roulette table, feeling like I was carrying the secret to the meaning of life, the dossier that showed who killed JFK or the compromising pics of the tv producer who’d been forced to commission the Go Compare adverts.

I got back to see 4 become the next successful number and my heart and my remaining brain cells were all over the place. This seemed so unreal. I hoped that I had money but my only possession was the envelope which I opened discreetly away from the table. My suspicions of being in America were confirmed as I discovered $10,000, a key – an actual key not a card – to a suite in the Bellagio, which apparently was where I was, and some other junk that was nothing like as important.

Zero was next. Somehow these girls had given me information that they couldn’t possibly have. How the fuck could they have known this? Why didn’t they keep it for themselves? Why and how get me, Gary Glitter, to a casino in Vegas and give me the secret to winning a fortune? These questions didn’t occur to me then to be honest. All I was worried about was getting on number 19 right that fucking second. The Apple twins had taken me to the right table at least, nobody batted an eyelid as I handed over the $10K. To make it convincing I chose a few random numbers as well as the winning one. Jumping for joy as 19 came in as if I was just a lucky mug punter. When it came in again I went proper mental and as I waited for 11 to come in I reckoned I was about to pick up over $100,000. This was fucking brilliant. The wheel started slowing down and I was pretty much counting the cash as it hit 11, bounced up, wobbled on the edge a bit and then settled in 30. Bastard! At least my disappointment looked real as I noticed a couple of herberts had been drawn to the table by my success, my guess was it was the recent roulette performance rather than my decades of musical magic.

So, I still had almost the original $10K but had no idea what the next number might be and now I had time to wonder how the fuck I ever could have known. Any strength, nous or semblance of brain power was gone and I had to sit down before I fell down. My head rested in my hands as I tried to think but my mind wouldn’t clear at all. I could still taste the chicken vindaloo that, to the best of my knowledge, I’d been eating literally minutes before in England. I was so tired and confused that I went and found my suite, ordered drinks on room service and then passed the fuck out. The envelope the girls had given me fell to the floor and a receipt for entry into the 1999 World Series Of Poker Main Event slipped out as it landed.


Spermaman 2!

Last modified on 2012-06-02 20:06:53 GMT. 0 comments. Top.

Right my dears, those who got a #kindle for Christmas pay attention now. Miguel & Clive are here to bring you news of a new kind of hero – Spermaman!

So, you’ve stuffed yourselves to the point of morbid obesity with turkey, chocolate and all manner of other shit. Are you really going to waste 70 odd pence on that bar of dairy milk or are you going to visit amazon and read about a bloke with a carp up his arse? You know it makes sense dears – yay :).

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