Reflexes.
10/05/15 Entry 710 (BBC).
Examining the big ethical and religious issues of the week on Sunday Morning Live.
My reflexes have been honed by three years of obsession. With an 'Eddie Eye' and split-second accuracy I am now able to hit 'pause' at the exact moment when the largest area of underwear is on display. I hope that you, faithful reader, will understand my little joke, I was of course referring to the famous sportsperson, Eddie 'The Eagle' Edwards. I have a poster of him on the wall, just underneath my infant school swimming certificate and the A2 '2013 London Marathon' stills.

Today's outfit: Sian is sporting a pretty navy cardigan over a blue dress with a diagonal neckline: the angle descending from the outer collarbone and meeting on the sternum at approximately rib 5. Slight suggestion of upper curve of breast, quite tastefully done however. Simple gold chain necklace with a small opal. Basic ladies wristwatch. Two pearl earrings. Same makeup as previous three weeks. Hair has slightly more blonde in it. Left leg over right when the time comes. Sexy inviting black panties on show for 0.6 seconds at 03:51 in from end of title sequence. Must remember to bookmark this for repeat viewings, it is one of the finer sightings in my archive.

3 minutes 42 to reach orgasm.
11cc of ejaculate produced.
Today's receptacle: 'Norwich City FC' mug with broken handle, contains week-old coffee and an estimated 3mm thickness of mould. It was about time I threw that old thing out anyhow.
( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Fri 15 May 2015, 0:12, 15 replies)

farting on command
i used to be able to inhale (is that the right word?) air in thru the bumhole, by lying on my back and contracting stomach muscles. then blowing out said air in various different fart types, rippers or clappers, dependent on bumcheek control. i discovered this by accident on NYE 1991, and was a regular party piece for ten years. we emailed 'Mister methane' and told him of my gift, and he said he only knew of one other who could do it. Les Dennis! my father would have got me out of bed if he had folk in on the drink to perform this, and my record was 24 single farts off of one inhale. anyway, i had to stop because i was showing the wife it cos she had heard, sucked in far too much air and was in agony for couple of hours, farting every 5 or 10 seconds, then i took a nose-bleed, then a panic attack. my sister found me on the bathroom floor curled in a ball, jaw and arms locked, covered in blood, farting like crazy. it was never mentioned again.
(terryhoosh remembers when this was all fields, Sun 17 May 2015, 23:45, 1 reply)

I roll down my foreskin, just enough to expose my glans, until it resembles a roll neck jumper
then ask party goers what celebrity they think it looks like.
Guesses range from Warwick Davis wearing a bald cap to Telly Savalas.
The correct answer is Greg Wallace from MasterChef.
( $$ ✅, Fri 15 May 2015, 14:11, 6 replies)

I saw Vampires of Soho at InFest.

(dozers, do fuck off ur a nob m8, Mon 18 May 2015, 21:50, 65 replies)

I like to turn up to parties
in a giant ship with a specially modified prow.

It's a great icebreaker.
(SnowyTheWereRabbit the Leporid from Hell, Fri 15 May 2015, 14:20, Reply)

The Goat
In answer to this Question of the Week
I will make you gargle, drool and shriek -
For I am a poet,
And yes, I do know it,
But very rarely
Do I show it.
But now's my chance
So shit your pants -
Here's a poem what I wrote;
It's entitled thus: The Goat

***

The Goat

A goat stood
in a field
staring
at the cars on the motorway
as they zoomed past.
It was a sunny day.

Crows flew
in the sky
above the goat.
And in the field
daises grew.

A man in a car
on the motorway
on his way to a conference
driving fast
listening to Classic FM
and thinking about how he wanted to throw in his job and leave his wife and his kid and hang around the gay bars in his home town of Clowne (near Sheffield) because he was past 40 and life was making no sense
farted.

IT STANK.

But the goat
could not smell it
because it was far away
in the field
and the car was zooming fast along the motorway
getting farther and further away.

And the crows
could not smell it either
because they were flying high
in the sky
above the field
and the motorway
and the car was zooming fast along the motorway
getting further and farther away
and was soon miles away
where the man stopped at a motorway service station for a dump
and a cup of coffee
which cost £3.95
(the coffee that is, not the dump. That cost 30p)
(it's not called 'Cost'-a Coffee for nothing)
(except this was a Caffe Ritazza)
(Caffe Ripoffa more like)
(I mean, £3.9shitting5 for a carboard cup of crap coffee!)
and made him mutter ‘for fuck’s sake’ under his breath
but the girl behind the counter heard
and thought ‘fat cunt’
and later posted the incident on Customers Suck
and went out that night and got pissed and met a charming lad called Chuck
who had a job driving a truck
to Innsbruck
what a stroke of luck

BUT I SMELT IT
because I was
sitting in the passenger seat
next to the man
who farted.
(Oh the vagaries of hitch-hiking.)
And the girl was right –
he was a fat cunt
like Eric Pickles.
But flatulence was the least of his problems
as he told me at length.
If you’re ever in the gay district of Clowne
(near Sheffield)
you might see him trying
and failing
to drown
his sorrows.

(As it’s spelled Clown with an E
I thought it might be pronounced Clone
rather appropriately
in the circumstances –
so I checked
and it isn’t. It’s pronounced Clown.)

I abandoned him in Caffe Ritazza
and got a lift from a man in a Farm Foods van
who somewhat resembled
a pre-breakdown
Gazza.

(I know it’s probably pronounced Rit-AT-za
but, you know, poetic license?)

And the goat
still stood
in the field
staring
at the cars on the motorway
as they zoomed past.
With the crows
circling above.
And the daises
growing below.

It was a sunny day.
(Dr Skagra glorious glargzhem, Tue 19 May 2015, 21:25, 14 replies)

the perks of having been a nerdy child
Working in advertising I once attended a meeting where our "creative director" suggested giving customers a discount on car deals if they can perform one of a set of impossible tasks at the dealership.

"Like what?", I asked.

"Well there's that little town in Britain with an incredibly long name that's basically just random letters thrown together. No one will be able to spell that without help! Wait, I'll google it!"

And so he did. I walked over to his desk, ran my fingers across his screen and pretended to memorize every letter. Then I walked away, put my hand over my eyes and started spelling:

"L - L - A - N - F - A - I - R - P - W - L - L - G - W - Y - N - G - Y - L - L - G - O - G - E - R - Y - C - H - W - Y - R - N - D - R - O - B - W - L - L - L - L - A - N - T - Y - S - I - L - I - O - G - O - G - O - G - O - C - H".

The idea was buried and he still calls me a freak to this day. I never told him that I had memorized that bitch as a kid, out of pure boredom during a family holiday in Wales.
( account88888 former cynic, converted to kindness, Tue 19 May 2015, 11:02, 1 reply)

Simply by posting a dull anecdote on the internet about my domestic situation
I can infuriate up to twelve angry spastics at once, possibly more.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Fri 15 May 2015, 15:34, 54 replies)

I can open a beer bottle on a radiator
but it's a pain having to take a radiator to parties
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Fri 15 May 2015, 11:06, 7 replies)

Acrostic
Somehow I have this skill. How I got it I don't know. Anyway something I can do is this. Making acrostic poems, you remember them from school? But it's not really anything I usually boast about. Ordinarily it's even something to be embarrassed about. I find them fun to do though, and make up examples all the time, just for my own amusement. Sometimes in the car my mind drifts off and the words just come to me. At least it amuses me. What use it it to anyone else I don't know. Any skill with words, if you're not a poet or headline writer or whatever, is really just for your own amusement, no-one else is likely to be impressed. No? Killing time doing it is better than Candy Crush Saga, I always think. Empty time filled. Result.
(McChinaman banned, Fri 15 May 2015, 9:54, 16 replies)

Guyrim threads.

(dozers, do fuck off ur a nob m8, Fri 15 May 2015, 9:18, 21 replies)

I can get both my legs behind my head
but, like yoga, it tends to compress my bowels somewhat, and my show is spoiled by rolling around on the floor farting

no I can't perform auto-fellatio
( A Rory Borealis here under duress, Thu 14 May 2015, 21:29, Reply)

( Two Hats 🎩🎩, Tue 19 May 2015, 10:23, 33 replies)

( Two Hats 🎩🎩, Mon 18 May 2015, 15:40, 15 replies)

I'm pretty good at fingering.

( 2 Can Chunder Word to your mums, I came to prod bums, Thu 14 May 2015, 21:33, 2 replies)