FULL FAT MAN MILK
I get these weird ideas in my head sometimes.

Its probably to do with having the attention span of a hummingbird on speed.

These weird ideas are usually compounded if I find myself sitting round with fuck all money and fuck all to do. - Being unemployed is not good. Its not good at all.

One time in my early twenties I'd been given the heave-ho from the rather cushdy sales job I had. No fucker was buying houses and I lost my role as 'smarmy cunt in a suit and tie trying to flog people mortgages'.

I was suddenly alone in the flat I shared with my mate John all day.

And one fateful Monday I got an idea in my head. And I followed it through to a shockingly, sickeningly obvious conclusion. It wasn't helped by the fact that I was alone in the flat for a week; John was working in France that week and wouldn't be back until late Friday night. I was well and truly alone.

So, being a normal, rational person I decided to see how much cum I could produce in a five day period. I was interested, curious, I was a pioneer in the further studies of spunk and all things cum-related. If I was a superhero I would've been Captian Cum, or the Masked Manfat Avenger, or quite possibly Sir Spunks-alot.

I found an empty two pint orange juice container in the bin. Thought better of it; I was good, but not that fucking good. Instead I went to the fridge and fished out the nearly-empty pint of milk we had in there. Washed the container out throughly, and went to find some porn which was usually lying about in every room of the flat.

A quick one off the wrist later I had the start of my sperm collection sloshing about in the bottom of the pint bottle. Oooh, a nice runny one with lumpy bits of egg white stuff. Fair size. Nice smell. Good bouquet. Sort of smelled a bit like the ocean. Quite a nice load all said and done. I then went and put the bottle in the fridge and went back to the living room to watch some daytime TV.

After an hour I had another quick wank.

Contents into the bottle again. Lovely.

And this is what I did for the entire week. By Friday afternoon I had just about reached the bottom of the lable on the pint bottle. I was pretty damn impressed. Looked a bit fucked up. I recall tapping the glass and swishing it about a bit. It resembled very runny tapioca. Smelt fucking awful even though it'd been in the fridge.

And then I got a call on Friday afternoon from my mate Hans (who's from Lincoln, not Germany), and I went out to get caned and see Silverchair for free. Woo!

It was a fucking great evening. I got so wasted I ended up sleeping on Hans' floor with an empty bottle of Jack Daniels resting on my chest. I woke up early on Saturday morning, found my trainers, and fucked off back home.

And found John sitting at the breakfast counter in our flat. He was reading the paper. He looked up and said a cheery "hello!"

I asked him how his trip went. He shrugged, it was so-so. I went to the cupboard and dragged out two mugs.

And John said: "Whatever you do don't use the milk in the fridge - I had some in my coffee when I got back last night... Tasted fucking awful."

"Errr, I'll just pop out and get a fresh pint," I said.

And I did.

And to this day John doesn't know he has actually tasted my baby making cake mix.
( SpankyHanky, Mon 6 Apr 2009, 15:09, 5 replies)

Do all your stories have to involve spunk?

( idonthaveafunnynickname Drink-Aware? Sure. I'm aware I want another drink., Mon 6 Apr 2009, 15:15, closed)

Unfortunately, yes
Well - all my being unemployed stories do. If you're poor, have lots of free time, are bored shitless, well, having a wank seems like the most sensible way to entertain ones self; its free, can take up a fair bit of time if you have a proper session, and it feels really rather nice.
( SpankyHanky, Mon 6 Apr 2009, 15:19, closed)

Er...
...yes. They do. We love him for it.
( Undercovercarrot got done for gross misconduct on..., Tue 7 Apr 2009, 7:34, closed)

ewww
nasty boy.

Clicks anyway
( fuck shit up the best you never had, Mon 6 Apr 2009, 15:18, closed)

*clicks*
Simply for the line:
"the attention span of a hummingbird on speed"

Sir, I salute you.
(ComplexStuff Was confused by life on, Mon 6 Apr 2009, 20:54, closed)