Helicopter Parents
Back when young ScaryDuck worked in the Dole office rather than simply queuing in it, he had to deal with a claimant brought in by his mum. She did all the talking. He was 40 years old.
Have you had to deal with over-protective parents? Get your Dad to tell us all about it.
( , Thu 10 Sep 2009, 15:13)
Back when young ScaryDuck worked in the Dole office rather than simply queuing in it, he had to deal with a claimant brought in by his mum. She did all the talking. He was 40 years old.
Have you had to deal with over-protective parents? Get your Dad to tell us all about it.
( , Thu 10 Sep 2009, 15:13)
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I had sex once
in a gym.
With a helicopter.
The rotor blades whirred gently as I plumbed the depths of the
tail crankshaft
with my
crankshaft.
Locked in so passionate an embrace,
the helicopter heaved,
strained,
moaned,
as I whispered,
sweet nothings into its
radio system.
Rushing,
thrusting,
faster,
harder,
faster,
her rotor spun,
faster,
faster,
breathless,
our climax was as precious and as exhilarating as it was perfectly synchronised.
Spent, we lay on the floor of the gym together and gasped for air,
furiously,
but sated.
I clothed myself and we ate corned beef
as the moonlight shone through the window.
I feared I would never see her again.
And yet, weeks later, I heard the familiar whirring of rotor blades.
A knock at my door.
She is pregnant.
It is mine.
It can only be mine.
I invite her in.
We open a tin of corned beef to celebrate this
beautiful occasion,
...you can see where this is going, can't you?
( , Fri 11 Sep 2009, 15:23, 4 replies)
in a gym.
With a helicopter.
The rotor blades whirred gently as I plumbed the depths of the
tail crankshaft
with my
crankshaft.
Locked in so passionate an embrace,
the helicopter heaved,
strained,
moaned,
as I whispered,
sweet nothings into its
radio system.
Rushing,
thrusting,
faster,
harder,
faster,
her rotor spun,
faster,
faster,
breathless,
our climax was as precious and as exhilarating as it was perfectly synchronised.
Spent, we lay on the floor of the gym together and gasped for air,
furiously,
but sated.
I clothed myself and we ate corned beef
as the moonlight shone through the window.
I feared I would never see her again.
And yet, weeks later, I heard the familiar whirring of rotor blades.
A knock at my door.
She is pregnant.
It is mine.
It can only be mine.
I invite her in.
We open a tin of corned beef to celebrate this
beautiful occasion,
...you can see where this is going, can't you?
( , Fri 11 Sep 2009, 15:23, 4 replies)
She wasn't Danish was she?
If so, I think she's looking for you.
( , Sat 12 Sep 2009, 15:26, closed)
If so, I think she's looking for you.
( , Sat 12 Sep 2009, 15:26, closed)
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