Many years ago I had a bird that had a bar through her nipple
She was proper into dried fruit. Like a dried fruit maniac. She was mental for those mixed bags of nuts and dried apricots and all sorts.

Anyway, relevance is irrelevant at this point of the story. My missus had a cracking pair of knockers and I always thought that having one done and not the other kind of made her walk with a bit of a limp, so she was going to get the other one done, as we walked into the tattoo parlour she dropped her dried apricots and dates....shock fucking horror! I tripped over and fell straight onto the machine that puts holes in you, I tried to take control but it had a mind of it's own and I ended up piercing my own mouth.
( spanishfly is so fucking sexy people impersonate him, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 21:16, 2 replies)

I once went out with a girl. She kissed like an overexcited puppy licks faces, one then would have assumed
she could handle and suck cock with the same level of enthusiasm. I was wrong in this assumption, I imagine a corpse would make a better job of it.
( d.r._and_quinch when will you be famous?, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 20:40, 18 replies)

Carpe Cyprinidae is a paedophile.
He grooms prepubescent boys before anally raping them.
(dozers, do fuck off ur a nob m8, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 20:22, 8 replies)

the first time it wasn’t even in a bed i can’t even figure out why it was on the floor and it fucking hurt and was really horrible and unpleasant ugh
like we’d go out to the mall or something and come home and he’d start making out with me and slipping his hand down my pants oh my god this is making my heart beat so fast i feel horrible

i was sick with like a flu/strep throat and we took a walk down to the park at night and like sat down on a bench and he started fucking around and touching me and i ended up…….GODnvm like outside at night kill me

i’d say it was really painful and i ended up really sore and bruised for like days like literally everything hurt so bad and i told him that and it didn’t really matter i didnt stop anything
( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 19:36, 7 replies)

It was all going so well...
It was a cousin's wedding in a Chateau in Strasbourg. After the banquet I somehow peeled off with a lovely lady guest, and we walked and chatted gaily throughout the castle grounds - I even managed to ride one of the wild ponies that were wandering about, which well impressed her in a Hugh Grant way. When we kissed in the moonlight, it felt magical.

Later, as we approached our hotel, we were walking hand-in-hand through the medieval cobbled streets of the old town, heady with romance and anticipation, and I trod in the biggest, runniest, dog shit imaginable. I subtly tried to scrape it off by doing humourous Frankenstein/Hunchback of Notre Dame impressions, but this only created the impression that I was a twat, who smelled of dogshit.
( fred zeppelin II: Electric Boogaloo, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 18:44, 6 replies)

Nearly eighteen, still a virgin and in a field in Poulton le Fylde
walking along by the hedge with this bird I'd been informed was a goer.
Nice shady part, "Shall we sit down here?" I ask. "OK" she replies, slipping them off and says dead romantic like, "You can do me if you want."
I was nearly eighteen and still a virgin FFS.
( edjogs Collared doves are shit., Thu 4 Sep 2014, 16:38, 2 replies)

I hope Dr Skagra dies in a fire.

(dozers, do fuck off ur a nob m8, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 16:37, 26 replies)

Dawn of the dead
Hanging out in a nightclub in Tiger Bay. Never smart.
I'd been sent to Cardiff to sort out some accounting issuesin the local office, by our parent company. My colleagues felt the need to show me some good old Welsh hospitality, and this mandated much time in the fleshpots of their nations capital. I did weakly point out that I'd have been perfectly satisfied by some cheese on toast, a few verses of 'Men of Harlech' and a blowjob from Charlotte Church but no, that wasnt their way at all apparently

So I'm out with a few people I dont really know and our local finance specialist, Dawn. Dawn's a big girl - but that didnt bother me as I had zero interest in her. I liked her for her outrageous sense of humour and real talent at a SAP terminal.

Many drinks were had. My eyesight began to degrade, and so did my opinion of Dawn, who I was beginning to suspect of not just taking aspirin.. and in fact of being the inspiration for 'Monster' by The Automatic. And of being colourblind. There's a place for dayglo synthetic polymers. This wasnt it.

But you have to be a part of the team if you want to keep your ledgers balanced. I discreetly switched to drinking tap water instead of neat vodka and joined in the thrashingly comical local dancing style while mentally watching the clock over the door and wondering whe it would stop being impolite to give excuses to depart.

The clock right over two somewhat past-it hipsters. One was a hugely tall guy in his mid forties wearing what looked like a pastiche of a pre-modern military uniform, the other slightly shorter guy in a black pinstripe suit and bowler hat, and constantly fiddling with what appeared to be a TV remote. Presumably high on shrooms and left his iPhone in his front room. Both of them winked at me.

I groaned and smiled back. Then snapped around as Dawn had got a grasp on me and was determined we should dance more. I put up with this in the interests of professional teambuilding for 10 mins or so then had the convenient need to relieve myself, and slipped away to point percy at the porcelain

While in there I was happily sitting on the throne with my phone, updating a somewhat horrified management accountant back in London on what was probably going on expenses, when I heard what sounded like someone having a massive asthma attack a few stalls away. I quickly buttoned up and dashed along banging on doors asking if everyone was ok

Ten minutes later, somewhat bruised, I staggered out of the loos with a newfound realisation of how dangerous it is to knock on a drunkards toilet door. Dawn was nowhere to be seen, the other hipster guy was smirking at me - I'd had enough and went back to my hotel room

I'd been there no more than five minutes when my ears popped as though the local air pressure had spiked. There was a loud thump, a gugling noise, then the wardrobe fell over and poleaxed me. Bang. Out like a light.

I came to in dawn's early light, lying like a spanged mong on the hotel's hard carpet, half covered with a wardrobe in several pieces, mostly pinned down by.. Dawn.

Dafuck?

She came around after I'd wormed my way out and found a pail of water, but didnt make much sense. Something about a hipster in a blue box that groaned rang faint bells, but the rest of the discourse, regarding an edible world, a scotch egg that could be entered, green froggy men....

'Too many drugs Dawn'. I thought. but no actually I said it.

'But its trueeeewaaaaaaaghurrrgh..... I wanna go baaaarrrrrrghggghhhhhhhhh'

I was washed away across the room by a deluge of onetime pie.
And then she shat herself.
(Carpe Cyprinidae, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 16:14, 6 replies)

Profile Pic
Many moons ago when internet dating took off, I thought I’d give it ago as I was single at the time. I was using a dating website which was cheap to use, and girls could use it for free. Started to exchange messages with a girl and going by her profile picture she looked pretty ok. She was local and decided to meet up for a drink locally, which was handy.

I made sure I got to the agreed bar early, so that I could have a couple of drinks beforehand to boost the Dutch courage and all that. I stood at the bar where she would see me as soon as she walked in. After a while the bar door open and there she was. I recognised her instantly and thought to myself fucking hell, should I just make a quick exit and leave now? The profile picture was true to her top half, however below that she was carrying the biggest arse I have ever seen. I mean it was freakishly big and the legs to go with it. She spotted me, so there was nowhere to run now so I bought her a drink and got chatting.

Turned out to be an alright evening but she just wasn’t my type. I’m shallow like that.
(Headsbollockskuntz, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 15:34, 10 replies)

:(

( Amorous Badger NAKED BEA ARTHUR PHOTOS 4U, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 15:34, 12 replies)

American Dates
I mean, putting the day in the middle? Pshaw.
( Amish Information Systems hates misplaced, commas, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 15:15, 3 replies)

Internet dating at it's best
I gave internet dating a fair few years back and after a while, started chatting to a girl who sounded very nice. Lots in common with same music, tv tastes and chatted about all sorts of things for a while.
Obviously the meeting was the next stage so me, not being to experienced with dating thought up about six topics to fall back on should the going get tough. Within 5 minutes I had used them all...
I just couldn't get this girl to talk about much at all and when I said "oh you said you liked greenday in your message", she said "yeah they are ok but i like take that more".
Things only went worse when I asked her about what career she was going for when she said "air hostess however I hate flying"... Now something deep inside me said "oh, just like Mr T then". This was not a good thing to say on a first date with someone you met off the internet.
Also there was a whale stuck in the Thames at the time which was in the news quite a bit so at one point she said to me "you know the whale off the news".... I reply by saying "oh yes, the one that died this morning?".... she replied that her dad was incharge of keeping it alive or something.
I even went to the gents at one point, hoping she wouldn't be there when I got out.
(snarf81, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 15:15, Reply)

Years and years ago during a patch of singleness
I went speed dating in Soho with a mate who was at the time bi. It didn't go too badly for me, though I noticed that almost all of the women who'd ticked my box were the ones to whom that I had intimated that I could get hold of weed, so in many ways it was exactly like meeting people the regular way. On the other hand, my mate had such a miserable time that there and then he gave up on women altogether, so we went to G-A-Y and toasted the end of his heterosexuality together with cocktails.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 15:06, 13 replies)

Dawn
Hello sweeeties! My first ever 're-post', originally posted under 'Bad Dates':

You've all heard of Torchwood, right? Well, I was employed by them for a while several years ago, as a consultant on temporal anomalies. Pay was crap but the sex was fantastic. One night I was out on the lash in Cardiff with the team and I ended up in this cheesy nightclub with Captain Jack. We were the only ones standing as our metabolisms were able to cope with the vast amounts of alcohol we had sunk, everyone else had given up and gone home. So Jack and I were in this club, it was an 80s retro night, and it was packed with pissed, pilled, sweaty humans. Jack and I surveyed the masses like farmers assessing pigs for slaughter. One female in particular caught our attention: an obese, ugly munter dressed in dayglo pink several sizes too small. All the other totty in the place was stunning, so her hideousness stood out all the more. She was drinking and dancing and partying with the utmost unselfconscious abandon. Despite her grossness, we began to admire her. Good for her, we thought! Then Jack began to arse about, saying, ‘would you’, etc. We began to wind each other up mercilessly and it escalated into a bet. We tossed, and when we got back from the toilets, tossed a coin, the bet being: heads, Jack takes the moose back to the Hub and fucks her; tails, I take her for a journey in my TARDIS (it was working back then).

I lost.

So I approached this beast, Jack’s derisive laughter echoing in my ears, and introduced myself.

‘Hello. My name is Doctor Skagra.’

The creature squinted up at me with suspicion. Facially, she somewhat bizarrely reminded me of Peter Gilmore out of The Onedin Line crossed with Millie Tant out of Viz. ‘Hullo! My name’s Dawn’, she bellowed.

I grinned, hoping that I looked terrifying. ‘Would you like to come for a trip in my time machine?’

Dawn’s eyes bulged and fizzed like frying eggs. ‘Coo! It’s a date!’

And so I led her by the (warm, slightly sweaty hand) out of the club, trying to ignore Captain Jack Harkness who was by now writhing on the floor foming at the mouth with larffter. The cunt.

As I led her through the night-time streets of Cardiff, she produced a Pork Pie from her handbag and set to it with grotesque gusto.

We reached my TARDIS which was disguised as a dustbin outside Burger King, and entered. I had to adjust the dimensional relativiser so that Dawn’s leviathan bulk could pass through. As she clocked the incongruously massive interior, she gaped in wonder, almost dropping her Pork Pie, bits of processed meat and pastry falling from her maw to the floor where Tidge and Tadge, my tame Cybermats, cleaned it up.

‘Fuck me!’ she gasped.

No chance of that, I muttered to myself as I set the controls to random, not caring where and when we went on this ‘date’.

I watched as she trundled around my console room (which was a nice blue/white ‘aqua’ colour scheme), firing off moronic questions like ‘how much this cost you?’, ‘what’s that going-up-and-downy thing?’ and ‘where’s the bog?’

Fortunately, the journey proved to be short as my TARDIS locked on to co-ordinates and began to materialised. I didn’t recognise the co-ordinates – in retrospect, I should have done a quick scan before going out, but I just wanted this over as soon as. ‘We’ve landed,’ I told her.

Somehow, Dawn managed to speak between big bites of her enormous Pork Pie. ‘Munch! Munch! Oooh! Munch! Where?’

‘Let’s see.’ I activated the scanner.

Dawn was still intent on the remains of her pie, and I shuddered as I watched her lick greasy flakes of pastry from her chubby fingers.

I returned my gaze to the scanner, and my hearts sank. ‘Oh, no,’ I muttered to myself. ‘Have I got time for a quick spatio-temporal hop?’ But a quick check of the power gauges answered that. My TARDIS needed at least an hour to recharge its Artron energy before it went anywhere, or anywhen, else.

Dawn, having finished devouring her pie - and already presumably thinking about where the next one was coming from - picked up on my subdued mood. She lumbered around the console, rudely shoving me away from the scanner. ‘Hoy! Where are we then, mush?’ she grunted.

I rubbed my arm where Dawn’s considerable bulk had hit me. ‘Somewhere tasty.’

Dawn had now seen the view on the scanner screen. Her jaw gaped, and thick strands of saliva dribbled from her pendulous lip, pooling thickly on the console. ‘Wuuuuuuuuuuuuugh!’ she groaned in ecstasy. ‘Wuuugh! Waaagh! OOOOOORGH!’

The screen showed a rolling landscape of hills and valleys composed entirely of glazed pastry. It shone like burnished gold under a bloated sun. I closed my eyes. ‘Of all the places – Ginsters’ World!’

‘Open the doors! OPEN THE DOORS!’ gargled Dawn through a throatful of drool.

I activated the door controls, once again adjusting the dimensional relativiser so that Dawn’s leviathan bulk could pass through. There was a brief lull, then the sound of steady, contented gorging. It sounded like a sty full of starving catarrhous pigs snout-deep in slop.

Feeling nauseous I stepped out of my TARDIS onto the scrumptious surface of Ginsters’ World. The sunlight made me squint and the smell of cooked meat in jelly inveigled its way into my flared nostrils. ‘The whole planet is one enormous pie,’ I muttered. Dawn was on her knees, oblivious to anything but filling her face, which was buried in pastry, meat and goo.

‘Watch it, if you eat too much, you’ll set the planet off its orbit.’

‘SLOBBER! SLOO! SCLOOOOORCH! GRAAA!’ was Dawn’s reply.

Then something glinting in the middle distance caught my eye. I moved closer. It was a metal pole, about four feet high, with two triangular flags fluttering at its top. I turned and ran back to Dawn, who was now waist deep in pie, podgy legs waving in the air.

‘Dawn! We must leave. NOW!’ I grabbed her feet and pulled but she was far too fond of her food to let go.

And it was too late anyway.

Three stocky, helmeted figures appeared from behind a massive Scotch Egg. The leader raised a wand-like weapon, and wheezed: ‘You are now prisoners of the glorious and strategic Sontaran Empire!’

Bollocks. Bugger. BALLS! Sontarans! ‘What are you lot doing here?’ I glanced around at the tasty terrain. ‘It’s not as if you need to eat, is it?’

The lead Sontaran stamped and snorted. ‘I am Commander Skunt of the Sontaran Strategic Sn... Strategy Squadron,’ he hissed. ‘This planet is of vital strategic importance.’

Meanwhile, the other two Sontarans were tugging Dawn from her gorge-hole. ‘Waaaaaa!’ cried the fatastrophic femme fat-ale. ‘Lemme GO!’ She sprawled ungraciously on the glazed surface of Ginsters’ World, her face a suffused gurn of thwarted hunger.

Commander Skunt glared down at Dawn and then up at me. ‘Who are you and what is your purpose here?’

I folded my arms. ‘My name is Doctor Skagra, this is Dawn, and this is turning out to be the date from hell.’

Dawn had by now clocked the Sontarans. ‘Eeeeee! Oooooo! MONSTERS!’ she shrieked. She clung to my leg and farted in fear.

I waved my coat to dispel the malodorous miasma - but the Sontarans seemed terribly affected by the pong. They staggered around spluttering and stomping and gasping for air.

I frowned. There was something different about these Sontarans – but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. ‘Well done, Dawn!’ I said, dragging her to her feet, a feat which took all my Time Lord strength. ‘Whilst they’re disoriented let’s leg it back to my TARDIS!’

But the Sontarans had recovered. ‘Lieutenant Vart! Lieutenant Vadj! SEIZE THEM!’ bellowed Commander Skunt, his eyes glowing redly through the slits in his domed helmet.

Dawn and I found ourselves gripped tightly by strong three-fingered alien hands and marched towards the giant Scotch Egg. Dawn seemed hypnotised by the giant snack, and began drooling copiously.

‘Sorry, Dawn,’ I said. ‘That’s NOT a Scotch Egg - it’s a Sontaran battle cruiser.’

‘That is correct!’ spluttered Skunt as we passed into the shadow of the gigantic ersatz egg.

‘But why does it look like a Scotch egg?’ I wondered aloud.

‘It is a strategic disguise,’ rumbled Skunt, as if that explained everything. As they neared, a hatch opened in the breadcrumby skin of the Sontaran ship and a ramp descended. Dawn was shoved onto the ramp, a Sontaran boot prodding her ample behind. She waved her arms in the air and wailed: ‘I wanna go a pooh!’

I was going to fucking murder Captain Jack when – if – I got back to Cardiff.

Inside the Sontaran battle cruiser, it stank. I wrinkled my nose. ‘I don’t know what’s worse, the whiff of your guffs or the smell of stale Sontaran jock-sweat.’

‘My bum feels funny,’ wailed Dawn in answer. I frowned. Could she think of nothing but her digestive processes?

We were shoved, harangued and prodded up against a wall by the three growling Sontarans. Dawn’s jowls wobbled in fear. The Sontarans removed their helmets. Dawn screamed at the sight of their toad-like faces and potatoey heads.

I, of course, didn’t bat an eyelid. ‘Well, now you’ve got us, what are you going to do with us?’

‘You cannot be allowed to interfere with the Sontaran strategy,’ gurgled Skunt, fat pink tongue licking thick black lips. ‘Therefore you will be strategically executed!’

‘Quick, Dawn, let another one off!’

‘I can’t! I think I’m constipated!’

‘But you said you wanted -’

‘I know!’ wailed Dawn, ‘But I caaaan’t! I’m all bunged up!’

The three Sontarans raised their weapons.

‘Scream! And prepare to writhe, and die!’ roared Commander Skunt.

The ends of their weapons began to glow red.

A flicker of something caught my eagle eye. ‘Wait!’ I yelled, stepping forward and raising my hands. ‘There’s a traitor in your midst!’

‘Shut up!’ roared Skunt, steam hissing from between his teeth.

‘It’s Vadj!’ I shouted, pointing.

Skunt and Vart turned to look uneasily at their comrade.

‘He’s gorn all glowy!’ cried Dawn.

It was true – Lieutenant Vadj was suffused with an eerie glow, like an intergalactic Ready Brek Kid, only green. He began to change...

Skunt and Vart grunted in alarm and stepped backwards, levelling their guns at Vadj. Their comrade had now morphed into a gigantic blobular ball covered in fine white hairs, like a giant gooseberry. It pulsed with an eerie inner green light and blue sparks crackled across its jelly-like surface.

‘Oh my God what the HELL is that?’ wailed Dawn, clutching my arm so hard that I winced.

‘A Rutan scout,’ I explained.

Skunt and Vart simultaneously fired at the alien intruder. Sizzling beams of red energy jetted from the ends of their weapons and plunged into the Rutan - but it just fizzed, absorbed the energy, and crackled angrily.

‘Your weapons are useless!’ warbled the Rutan in a voice that sounded both electronic and soupy. It surged towards us, flailing its tentacles and casting off blue arcs of energy.

Dawn shrieked, and farted. A look of mixed relief and terror dawned on her face. ‘I’m unblocked!’

Vart, rather ironically, gagged at the smell, and staggered towards the advancing Rutan. Blue energy found him and the Sontaran warrior was instantly fried to a crisp.

‘Run!’ I yelled, shoving the choking Skunt and my malodorous date deeper into the bowels of the disguised Sontaran ship. It was dark, dank, smelly, and laced with curving circular corridors paved with grating that clanked beneath our feet.

Skunt was frothing in anger and exertion, his face a mask of anger. ‘Betrayed! BETRAYED!’ he bellowed.

I skidded to a halt and bustled Skunt and Dawn into a side-room. It contained Sontaran laundry, and stank even worse than the rest of the ship.

‘We must join forces to neutralise that Rutan,’ I said. ‘Agreed?’

Skunt nodded, his piggy Sontaran eyes burning red. Skunt grimaced. ‘It would be the strategic thing to do.’

‘Great!’ I rubbed my hands together. ‘Now, how are we gonna get rid of our blobby friend?’

‘What if,’ panted Dawn, a look of dogged monomania on her sweaty face, ‘I set light to one of my own faaaaaAAAAAARTS?!’

I shook my head. ‘No, the Rutan would probably enjoy that.’

‘I would rather your companion did NOT emit anything further from its anal orifice,’ rumbled Skunt, fixing me with a baleful stare.

‘I can’t guarantee that,’ I muttered, gazing ruefully down at the perspiring lump .

Skunt shoved me aside. ‘Honour demands that I face the Rutan scum in single combat.’

‘Oh, that good old Sontaran honour. Always got to face your enemies, because of your probic vents – the small hole at the back of your necks through which you take in the energy that sustains you,’ I added, for Dawn’s benefit. Not that she seemed to care - she was busy exploring her fingernails for pie residue.

Skunt shoved me aside, roaring in anger. ‘Raaaagh!’

‘But you haven’t GOT any probic vents!’ I cried, pointing at the back of the Sontaran Commander’s collar. ‘I knew there was something odd about you! You’re not Sontarans – what are you?!’

Dawn screamed as Skunt picked me up by my lapels. ‘I AM a Sontaran and I will prove it by strategically destroying my enemy!’

So saying Skunt chucked me into a pile of Sontaran vests and stomped away.

I extricated myself. ‘Now, Dawn – your silly plan about igniting your farts has given me an idea.’

‘Has it?’ said Dawn disinterestedly, intently examining something she’d found under her thumbnail. ‘Oh. When can I have more planet pie?’

‘Not now,’ I said through gritted teeth. ‘We need to find the Sontaran armoury.’

‘I’d rather find the canteen,’ chuntered Dawn predictably.

We set off warily along the corridor, and found the armoury. I armed myself with a grenade launcher, reasoning that should be able to blast the Rutan into little jellified bits – and deal with Skunt, should that became necessary.

A green glow shone creepily somewhere ahead. There was no sound of battle, only a fizzing crackling noise and a smell akin to fried pork which made Dawn drool incontinently.

We turned the corner to see the Rutan, still in its sparky blobular formation, poised over the charred body of Skunt, ready to deliver the death blow.

I immediately fired the grenade launcher at the Rutan. It plunged deep inside the gelatinous mass, then exploded. There was a weird electronic howl and then green gloop everywhere. It was like the aftermath of a bizarre alien bukkake party.

I tossed the grenade launcher to the floor and walked over to where Skunt lay. He was still alive – just.

‘We got it,’ I said softly. ‘Honour is satisfied.’

Skunt grimaced. ‘Thank you... Doctor Skagra. And so – I die... but... my mission is accomplished, and the Rutan host will never know the secret.’

I coopied down beside the dying clone warrior – not noticing Dawn slip away. ‘Yes, what WAS your plan? Has it got anything to do with your un-Sontaran lack of probic vents?’

Skunt gargled and coughed. ‘Yes. I... we... are a glorious offshoot faction of the Sontaran Empire. Years ago, on an expedition to the Noodlesphere, we discovered the joys of food. Sensual pleasures... pies... pasties... crisps... cakes... ice cream... CURRY! We augmented ourselves so that we could obtain sustenance from food rather than raw energy.’

‘Sontaran epicures. I’ve seen it all now. So THAT’S why you were so affected by Dawn’s farts! Normal Sontarans don’t eat so they can’t taste or smell - but you can!’

‘Yes. Your companion’s rectal emissions are poison to us.’

Skunt gurgled in pain and his three-fingered hand clutched my knee. ‘Sontaran... High Command... saw our actions as heresy, and exiled us. They call us the Shame of the Sontarans.’ Skunt grimaced in anger. ‘And for decades we have been searching for this place – the gourmand’s Nirvana, the fabled Pie Planet, Ginsters’ World.’

‘And now you’ve found it, it’s too late – you’re dying...’

Commander Skunt’s eyes gleamed redly for one last time. ‘Not too late! I – I have summoned the rest of the Sontaran Strategic – SNACK Squadron, and they will soon be here!’ Skunt hissed and grinned.

‘Well in that case I hope you don’t mind if I’m off,’ I said, but Skunt didn’t hear me. He was dead.

I stood up and left the ship. The giant Scotch Egg cast a long shadow, in which sat Dawn, steadily gorging.

‘Our work here is done.’ I gazed up at the sky. ‘And I hope they make it.’

‘Who makes what?’ blurted Dawn through a mouthful of pastry and meat.

‘Come on.’

‘No! I’m staying here!’

I was tempted to let her stay, but I couldn’t leave her to the Sontarans, even nice ones, so I dragged her kicking and screaming towards my TARDIS.

It was a losing battle until I had a bright idea. ‘Look, I promise to take you to, um, Cadburia, Planet of Chocolate!’ I cried.

Dawn immediately ceased her struggling, and scampered grotesquely into the TARDIS.

I followed and set the fast return switch. As the central column began to rise and fall, Dawn turned to face me, her eyes glassy and bovine, her scoop-jaw glistening with dribble. ‘Well, come on then! The Choco Planet! I’m still hungry, you smarmy tosser!’

I ignored the insult and smirked. ‘No such place. I made it up!’

Too late, I realised my mistake. Dawn launched herself at me, snarling like a rabid boar on heat. Thinking quickly I activated the localised dispenser scoop and teleported her off my TARDIS to Rassilon knows where. Hopefully somewhere safe, I didn’t really wish her any harm.

I returned to Cardiff a few hours earlier than I had departed and had to hang around until I left. I watched myself enter my TARDIS with Dawn and felt like shouting out a warning, but that would have buggered up the timelines, or something. I went back to the nightclub where Jack was waiting for me, a big grin on his stupid face, so I gave him a Chinese burn, the cunt. Then we went back to the Torchwood hub and had bum fun with Ianto. I was Lucky Pierre, so after all that the evening ended rather well.
(Dr Skagra glorious glargzhem, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 15:06, 24 replies)

Video.....
So back in the day when still living with parents I secured an empty house and invited a young (no not yewtree) lady around to see my (delete as appropriate - stamp collection, puppy, cock).

As I was about to 'tuck in' I remembered that my dad had asked me to record something on telly.

So I excused myself, saying 'sorry just have to set the video'... on my return she'd done a runner!!!

Turns out later she thought I was going to video our sexy beeezneez!

I mean really it was the eighties - you'd have noticed a giant camera and a top loading frikin betamax in the the room......
( arsefez is back, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 14:59, 1 reply)

have a repost from 2008 because you love it, you dirty dirty bitches
"my friend evie went on a first date on saturday night with a guy she really, really likes. she was very nervous, but it all went swimmingly well.

so well, in fact, that when they were walking romantically along waterloo bridge at the end of the night (most romantic views in london? arguably yes!), he tipped her chin up, put his mouth on hers, hands cupping her face and stroking her hair, and kissed her. she said it was magical, an amazing kiss, lights of london spread out before them, stars twinkling, his mouth warm and firm on hers, knees buckling...

then, as they finished kissing, he pulled slightly away and looked deep into her eyes.

and what did evie do in response? drawing in a ragged breath, heart pounding, she announced:

"eeeees niiiiiiice!"

in her best borat voice. why? why?? she has absolutely no idea. all she knows is that he folded her into the next orange-lighted taxi and hasn't texted or called her yet.............."

2014 update: the date that really went wrong was the one where she met her now husband. i miss her love life disasters, i really really do.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 14:38, 10 replies)

I've never been on a date because I am English.

( The Awful Puppy Bakery is still bored, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 14:10, 6 replies)

11th September 2001.
Amirite?
( Muns, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 13:55, 5 replies)

Expanded on a repost.
A good seven or eight years ago, I was in a bit of a post breakup slump. When I got a text from a female friend-of-a-friend that I'd previously turned down through being not single, I unsurprisingly perked up. Drinks, she said. Given I'd spent the last month or so drunk and had hazy memories of her being short and cute, I agreed instantly.

The night we were due to meet I set up shop in one of my local pubs, reasoning that if I went somewhere most of my usual crowd didn't it would be a bit quieter and I was less likely to get invaded and/or cockblocked. I'm pretty thankful I made that choice, though only because it meant nobody saw my shame. I was midway through my second pint of Guinness, wondering when my petite, cute friend was going to turn up, when the door opened. I glanced up, clocked an eyeful of some foul beast so large as to have her own orbit, shrugged, and looked back to my pint. It obviously wasn't her, she was far too oh fuck she's sitting down.

Of course it was fucking her. She'd just eaten half of the Cherry Bakewells in fucking Bakewell since I'd seen her last.

Not being a complete cunt (only a medium one), I got a round of drinks in. I figured that I could have a pleasant chat and catch up before escaping. She got a round of drinks in. I figured that we could chat a bit more, it was early still. I got another round of drinks in. There's still time to get in to town. She got more. I got more. Drinks were had. Fuck me it's midnight, the pub's kicking out, and I'm arseholed.

"We going to go fuck or what?" she leered. I slurred something in reply and we shambled down the street vaguely towards my house. It took a long time, because it hurt her to walk. She could only manage a snail's pace. Unfortunately I didn't sober up enough on the walk to realise this is a warning sign a mile wide. Regardless, I got home and did the deed, despite the Guinness; on the plus side, she was fucking filthy. Passed out.

When morning rolled around I woke up with a splitting headache and a beached manatee in my bed. I did the polite thing and got the fuck out of my room because I couldn't deal with seeing that thing so early in the morning. She was deaf in one ear (rolls of fat in her ear canal?) so didn't hear me get up, thankfully. I popped down to the corner shop and availed myself of bread and bacon, because I was a poor student and apparently didn't have any food in the house. When I was cooking the bacon the smell made me nauseous, so I dumped all six rashers that I'd bought into one sandwich and presented it to her. She woke instantly and devoured it without hesitation.

I had to wait until I was sure my housemates had gone to work before I figured it was safe to shoo her out. Five minutes later she was outside my window, calling in. "WHEN WE FUCKED LAST NIGHT I LEFT MY PHONE IN YOUR ROOM".

I lived opposite a primary school. It was break time.

I still can't eat smoked bacon.

tl:dr; Bloke fucked fat bird, bacon causes flashbacks.
( gone, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 13:55, 19 replies)

If I remember right,
we should be in for lots of pictures of that monkey from Raiders of the Lost Ark.
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 13:52, Reply)

fucking hell

( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 13:35, 13 replies)

Met her in a pub in Kensington
Shocked at how fat she was.
(dozers, do fuck off ur a nob m8, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 13:30, 5 replies)

Good Afternoon QOTW, how are we all doing? I just flew in from Miami, boy is my keyboard tired!

(Albert M, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 13:25, 2 replies)

This happened to my sister.
She agreed to meet a guy at a pub for dinner and drinks. He went to the loo midway through his meal and that was the last she ever saw or heard of him.
( Fray Brentos *mega-belms*, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 13:24, 10 replies)

Uh oh. Someone dropped this:

( $$ ✅, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 13:22, 5 replies)

Fart
No. But I've met a fair number of female impersonators that turned out to be women.
(the other guy not the one that gave you coochie warts, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 13:18, Reply)

TURD

( MEATSNAKE Richard Hammond, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 13:17, Reply)

2nd

( MEATSNAKE Richard Hammond, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 13:17, Reply)

First
Do people still do this? I feel special.
(TheManofScience, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 13:16, Reply)