Patricia.
A good few years back, I was acquainted with a girl called Patricia. We were good friends, nothing more, but enjoyed each other's company and often used to go off on long weekends together and explore the countryside.

Now, poor old Tish was pretty innocent in the way of the world. The closest she had come to viewing pornography was accidently dropping a copy of the Sun at the newsagents. Due to the importance of that day's news (Take That were splitting up, I believe), the tits were shunted from page three and onto page seven, and the pages fluttered open on the floor to reveal Melinda Messenger in all her horse-toothed, fake-titted glory wearing a pair of glasses, perched on the end of an office desk taking dictation and sucking the end of a Bic. Probably wondering about sentence structure and punctuation, I would imagine.

So one weekend we headed off to some remote spot, where, we discovered, the local village was having a fair day. What the hell; might be a laugh, we decided, and headed off to sample the delights. It soon transpired that this was no ordinary village fair, though. There was a bit of a sporty theme to it, but with a twist.

The "tossing the caber" event was not what I expected, for example. Well, the last thing I expected was being faced with a bunch of hairy arsed, kilt wearing blokes kneeling in a circle and masturbating furiously over a biscuit shaped like Ben Nevis.

The ladies "downhill skiing event" didn't involve any snow whatsover, and certainly no hills or skis, but did result in lots of blokes blowing their horns in appreciation of the stirling work of the ladies. Which was deserved, frankly, they worked their arms off bless them.

We wandered around the site taking in other events. I was quite taken by the clam jousting; less so by the meat spinning. I think it was the music playing in the background; Pete Burns kind of puts me of my stroke - it's the lips. Patricia, though, was feeling a bit tired, and demanded to go home.

On the way back, she confessed that she didn't really "get" the whole set up. "What was that all about, DG?" she asked me, genuinely.

"What, that?" I replied. "Oh, that was just a sexual fete, Tish".







Can I go now?
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Fri 23 Oct 2009, 20:10, 10 replies)

go to your room

( spimf ™ is whoever you want him to be, Fri 23 Oct 2009, 20:11, closed)

and think about what you've said.

( girlinthehole, Fri 23 Oct 2009, 20:15, closed)

Will you promise to spank me with a frying pan?
Will you will you will you?
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Fri 23 Oct 2009, 20:15, closed)

I'm sure spimf will oblige.
He's a man of the world.
( girlinthehole, Fri 23 Oct 2009, 20:18, closed)

oh i'll spank him alright
about the head
( spimf ™ is whoever you want him to be, Sat 24 Oct 2009, 2:30, closed)

This is so quite incredibly awesome...

That there might be some uninvited seepage involved.

I'm going to click this, then build another PC from bits of soil and an old blender, just so I can click it again.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Fri 23 Oct 2009, 20:21, closed)

You don't have the monopoly on tenuous punnage, you know.
I've been thinking long and hard about this all day...
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Fri 23 Oct 2009, 20:37, closed)

*sigh*
*shakes head*

alright, so I quite liked it really, you git
(berk, Fri 23 Oct 2009, 20:31, closed)

................................................................................................
...........................................................
*takes a really looooooooooonnnnnnnnngggggggggggg run up..........


*SPANG*
( Tourette's ( . )( . ) has a monkey hair in her fried egg, Sat 24 Oct 2009, 0:50, closed)

lol
Well done.
(danniekavanagh did nothing constructive on, Sun 25 Oct 2009, 19:59, closed)