» I don't understand the attraction

Fucking X Factor and all the twunts who keep putting it on their Fuckbook status
I don't give a flying monkfuck who these fucking twins are, get a fucking life and USE THE REMOTE CONTROL TO SWITCH OVER. You c*unts. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Bastard sons of goatwhores.

*breathes*
(Sun 18th Oct 2009, 22:38, More)

» God

More Witnesses
The Jehovahs went a-knocking on the door of one of mine and Mr Twaddle's good friends, one bright and sunny Sunday morning. Unfortunately, it took quite some time for our mate to answer the door, as he had partaken a sizeable amount of jolly water the previous evening and was renowned for rising from his pit when the rest of us were about to hit the sack. Anyway, finally he staggered to the front door and opened it to the happy, smiling faces of Mr and Mrs Witness.

"Yes?" enquired our still pissed pal.
"Good morning sir, would you like to read our leaflet today?"
"Would this have anything to do with God, perchance?"
"Why yes!" beamed the chirpy Mr Witness
"Ah, the God who knows everything about us, and the world around us," said chum, struggling to suppress a large belch.
"Yes, that's the God, if you put it like that," replied Mrs Witness, with a self satisfied smirk.
"Well, he DIDN'T fucking well "know" that I was still asleep, did he?"

Belch? Yes, and absolutely no apologies for length and quality.
(Sat 21st Mar 2009, 21:11, More)

» Ouch!

Bum surgery........well
A few years ago, I had the misfortune to have some kind of bottomectomy surgery which only involved being in as a day patient. So Mr Twaddle and kind driver friend come to collect the very, VERY stoned Pussy from Outpatients. Feeling pain? Not on your nelly, thanks to several very strong (and possibly bordering on illegal) painkillers.

Mr Twaddle continued to administer TLC, cups of tea, spurned my offers of oral sex, that sort of thing. Until bedtime. Unbeknown to me, the hospital had given him a bottle of very fast acting laxative to ensure that yours truly had a dump to ensure that everything was in working order. Open wide, my darling, says he. I obediently oblige.

Two hours later.......... FUUUUUUCCCCK!!!!

There is NO other pain like it, I swear. And I have given birth twice.....

I am wincing even now
(Tue 3rd Aug 2010, 21:21, More)

» Irrational Hatred

Phrases that Mrs Twaddle abhors - part 124
People who say "Jog on" should be sent to an exclusion zone and be force fed their own entrails while watching a loop of the "we-torch-any-car.com" ad.

I have spoken.
(Sat 2nd Apr 2011, 22:59, More)

» Public Sex

Again, early 1990s...
Before I met Mr Twaddle, I was a horny young minx who was indulging in a bit of extra marital knee trembling with a very horny mechanic. At every available opportunity, in any available place. Including my place of work - a small, visual entertainment rental place with an even smaller back office. He came in one evening, a bit of dirty talk and one full on snog over the counter later and we were at it like the hammer and tongs that everyone talks about, in the tiny back office. With the door open. If you were a member coming in to hire or return a movie that night, you were most likely served by a manically smiling Ms Twaddle, who was commando, and quite possibly bra-less. And also mid shag. Well, the "customer comes first" was a bit of a farce that night.

What a fucking turn on!
(Fri 24th Apr 2009, 21:08, More)