My cunning plan.
By jove, I thought. I have an idea that'll make millions. This was a master man of gargantuan proportions, but it would require months of dedication. So in a fit of enthusiasm I snorted a line of white pepper, shat in a see through plastic bag, threw it over my shoulder for good luck and set off in search of the required paraphernalia to undertake my project.

I lived in a fairly built up area so it wasn't long before I spied exactly what I wanted. The flashing lights of the road works signs guiding the way and I was like a retarded moth at an Alabama strobe light convention. Drawn closer and fixated by the lights I failed to successfully negotiate the rotting dog corpse afoot. My foot fully penetrated it's soft underbelly and I could instantly feel the stomach acids burning the skin of the fungal infection between my toes. My sandal caught the underside of the ribcage as I took my next step, but I managed to shake it free as I stumbled towards the object of my affections.

With my foot still dripping in a mixture of bile, shit and blood I finally had the precious in my hands. This was only the start and I knew it would be a beautiful journey. I turned on my heel and with a skip in my step started homewards. Overcome with the emotions of what lay ahead I started to run and with one fluid poetic motion kicked the dogs head clean off as I darted off into the night.

Over the following days I eased into my training regime. It was slow and painful at first, but I soon got into a rhythm.At the end of every session I would check myself in the mirror and it wouldn't be stretching the truth to say I was pleased with my progress. Days became weeks.Weeks become more weeks which when using the Gregorian calendar in a fashion familiar to most people then equate to months. If you combine 12 of said months you get a year, however this story spans only 7 months. Or roughly just over 18 million seconds, however I find stories told using seconds as the base unit rather tedious to say the least.

So finally the day of reckoning arrived. I was ready to unleash my project on the world. I switched on the computer and quickly logged onto rotten.com...but wait...what's this!!! Someone has stolen my idea!! Fucksocks!! I could feel the wet dribble of piss running down my legs in rage. Months and months of planning only to be pipped at the post by some rank amateur. Seething I slowly backed away from the computer. My project in tatters and my trajectory in life tilted off it's orbit by the wanton selfishness of one Mr Goatse. Cunt!
(The Archduke of South London I'm in your Girlfriend eating her organs, Thu 3 Dec 2009, 23:04, Reply)