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This is a question That's me on TV!

Hotdog asks: Ever been on TV? I once managed to "accidentally" knock Ant (but not Dec) over live on the box.

We last asked this in 2004, but we know you've sabotaged more telly since then

(, Thu 11 Jun 2009, 12:08)
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FERRET ORGY WAS MY DOWNFALL
Not so much seen on tv…

One fine Saturday my dear old mum gave me forty of her hard-earned sterling to go down to the shopping precinct in Coventry and buy a new coat. Now, I fucking HATE shopping. I’d rather have somebody strip me naked, staple my cock to a pole, then raise the pole, turning me into a rather attractive, screaming, fleshy flag, dangling there until my cock ripped off and I plummeted to my death in a spray of blood and fecal matter.

You could say I was not best pleased at the prospect of picking up a new coat. So, I did the only sensible, reasonable thing instead, I went to Highfield Road, the field of screams, and watched my shit footie team play against another shit footie team (Oldham Athletic; this was fucking years ago), and still fucking lose. I went down with my mate Greg, it was a late kickoff – about five-thirty as it was being televised live on Sky, and we ended up sitting round for ages waiting for the match to start. I recall seeing something small, gray and furry crouching on the side of the pitch, it looked like a collection of ferrets having a wild orgy: “What the fuck’s that?” I asked Greg. He shrugged. That was the end of that riveting conversation.

Now, what with it being on Sky, they had a load of attractive girlies doing the American football style cheerleader shenanigans just prior to the match. It was ace. As this troop of girls went through their paces mere meters from me, I remember remarking to Greg: “I’ve seen more camel toes in the last five minutes than an Arab would see in the Sahara fucking Desert in a lifetime.” These girls were beautiful. They were lovely. And they didn’t seem to mind or notice that Greg and I were staring fixedly on their lady parts, trying as hard as we could to mentally undress them, willing to sell our own grandmother’s for an errant costume malfunction and the brief glimpse of some beautiful, sublime, amazing, below-the-belt lipage.

“God, I would fuck her so HARD!” I said. “And her…. And that one too… Jesus, that one over there looks fucking amazing… I bet she takes it up the shitter… just look at her… Fuck, yeah… I bet she’d take it up the shitter and then suck the shitty spunk off you’re helmet afterwards… And that one, that one over there with the massive knockers, she'd look fucking great with my cum dripping off her nose and chin... I'd glaze her like a fucking doughnut... and her mate... and that bird at the back... In fact I'd line them all up and rapid fire fuck the lot of um... I'm up for it, you know, physically... God, my cock feels slimy just thinking about it... gonna have to change my pants when I get home...” and so on…

Then I noticed some fella wearing a Sky TV jacket running like Quasimodo so as not to get in the shot of the TV camera on the sideline, rush up to the humping cluster of ferrets and frantically start pissing about with some of the wires leading away from them. Then he fucked off. Odd.

Then we watched the match. Oldham scored late on and won. Dejected (as always), as we were watching a footie team so shit that they required a bell in the ball so they could find the fucker on the pitch, Greg and I trudged home.

And when I got in my mum and dad were fuming. Shit! The COAT!!! I started making up some bullshit story about the shops being shut when my mum cut me dead. “You were at the football, weren’t you?” Fuck – my mum had developed superhuman powers! How the FUCK did she know that. “I’m not talking to you, you disgust me,” and she trounced upstairs and slammed my parents bedroom door behind her.

My dad said: “Bit of a poor match today, Spanky. We saw it on the telly…”

I felt suddenly releived and started to speak, as they say, football was invented to give blokes something to talk to each other about, otherwise they’d just sit in silence and sigh a lot. But my dad stopped me: “We saw the cheerleaders before the game… Oh, and we heard about fifteen seconds of your running commentary about these girls before they cut the effects mike off…”

Fucking Sky…

My mum only started talking to me again after a week of me making my own dinners; I nearly fucking starved to death…
(, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 11:29, closed)
LOL
thanks for making my Friday lunch break go so much quicker!
(, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 13:21, closed)
You dirty
dirty, dirty, dirty perv - worth a click for being such a perv.
(, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 13:22, closed)
Sky sports really
did revolutionise the whole being a pervert thing. Made the whole football match attendance experience so much more pallatable. Funny post, Spanks, very funny.
(, Fri 12 Jun 2009, 14:14, closed)
So...
...was this the era of the "Sky Blue Belles", or the "Sky Blue Crew"? They got a bit 'edgier' - it only made the wank feel naughtier
(, Sat 13 Jun 2009, 3:17, closed)
The thing that really did it for me
was the introduction of Sky Blue Sam -

there's nothing like wanking over a bloke dressed up like a giant blue elephant...
(, Mon 15 Jun 2009, 9:39, closed)
If only I could click replies...
Oh well, I'm going to give it a bloody good go

*clicks damn hard*
(, Wed 17 Jun 2009, 13:32, closed)
I knew I should have started watching footie earlier!
Gotta love cheerleaders. Nice story me old mucker, have a *click*!
(, Tue 16 Jun 2009, 17:13, closed)

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