» Food sex

On seafood
Valentine’s Day 2006

I treated the now ex Smurfette to a very special, homemade, candle lit dinner.

The entrée was Oysters. I'd travelled all the way to West Mersea that lunchtime to pick them up, carried them home in their little polystyrene box and immediately put them on ice. I'd had Oysters several times in my life, but knowing Smurfette had never had them, I thought it would be quite special. Whilst I'd never experienced the aphrodisiac effect, I thought she might.

The following courses were equally spectacular, but I won’t go in to them as they have no relevance to the story (but I am a damn good cook, even if I do say so myself).

The night was a hit. I taught Smurfette how to shuck* an oyster and we downed 4 each before the starter was ready. The remaining 4 went back on ice in the fridge.

Skip 2 hours....

Dessert finished (homemade coconut ice cream), the candles beginning to gutter, we headed towards the bedroom.

Feeling a bit kinky, she suggested I eat one of the remaining Oysters out of her naval. Obviously I would rather have had more ice-cream from mentioned orifice, but we'd gobbled the lot and maybe the fabled aphrodisiac was working on her. So I agreed. And then I did another. And then she did two from mine (despite much squirming as I'm always worried it will come unscrewed and things will fall out).

And then other stuff happened, but I'm nowhere near as good as writing sex stories as some on here, so I won’t even try.

But the next morning. Woh is us.

We both wake up feeling a bit iffy. Smurfette heads to the toilet and I hear the retching. I drag myself out of the bed and offer to 'hold her hair' (being a modern man and all that). "Noooooooooooo" is the response I get. Then I hear, what I think is a desperately needed pee. How mistaken I am. "Ooooo I'm not well" says Smurfette heading past me on the way back to bed.

Once again, being modern man (or possibly my mother) I offer to go downstairs and grab the mop bucket for her if she's not well. I'll even include the savlon mixed with water in the bottom of it (ok, so I have Edwardian floorboards in my bedroom and had visions of vomit getting between the gaps and never being able to get it out).

Then it was my turn.

I have never, ever, pissed from my arse before. I think only those who have truly had food poising before can sympathise with this.

I'm not talking your upset tummy, might spray a bit with farting, still slightly lumpy, diarrhoea (hey, I spelt it right first time!). I'm talking pure liquid faeces (didn't spell that right first time!) that comes at regular intervals with the force of a tsunami.

On the way back to bed, I aimed downstairs to grab the mop bucket, if not for her, for me.

At this point I'm still sans clothing, as I like to sleep that way.

I get back to the bedroom with the bucket. As I step through the bedroom door I feel the stirrings in the lower chest.

"Hwwwwuuuuuuchhhhhhh" I say, projecting a stream of vomit in to the bucket.

"I'm hwwwwuuuuuuuchhhhh sorry" I say as I stand naked in the doorway, another jet of vomit landing in the bucket.

"Where hwwwwwuuuuuuch did those underpants come from, I don't remember eating those hwwwwwuuuuuuuuuch"? I say trying to add humour to the situation.

"I hwwwwuuuuuuuch love you" as another jet erupts from my throat.

And then I start to laugh as I realise just how unattractive I must look. Standing in the door way, naked, holding a mop bucket under my chin, whilst trying to converse and apologise between retches.

And then Smurfette starts to laugh. And promptly shits the bed.


*kinda like the noise you make when eating them.
(Mon 10th Aug 2009, 20:34, More)

» Guilty Pleasures, part 2

Tormenting dumb animals
This will actually keep me amused for hours on end. Take one laser pointer and my three cats (mother, son and daughter). Initially the fun begins with running the laser dot around the floor with three cats all chasing it. This then progresses to running the dot up the wall and seeing how high they can jump. These don't make me feel guilty, but the next stages do.

Stage 3 involves running the dot up unsuspecting Mrs Smurf's leg, making her scream as three cats simultaneously leap with all claws out. This is particularly effective if she's wearing her silky pyjamas.

Once I've been suitably chastised by Mrs Smurf (you know when you do something so many times they lose any bit of humour about it?) it's time to move to stage 4, turning the cats on each other. Ideally this is best achieved by getting all cats in to a frenzy by running the laser dot at high speed across the floor several times and then running it up the side of mother cat, who proceeds to be flattened by the other two speeding pussycats. Retaliation follows and one 'cat fight' occurs.

Finally, stage 5. Turning the slightly dim son on himself. This is easily achieved by running the laser pointer towards him at slow speed and up front leg or chest, where he will proceed to stare and then snap at it. No matter how many times he can't catch/feel/smell the dot, he will always try to catch it with a quick snap and then look confused. This really does get me giggling insanely for some reason. Don't worry though, he doesn't hurt himself.
(Tue 18th Mar 2008, 15:54, More)

» Guilty Pleasures, part 2

She's just a devil woman
I have one guilty pleasure, and I'm going to share it with you. Only one other person in the world, Mrs Smurf, knows this.

I'm an all out metaller. I no longer have the long hair, but instead shave my head (ok, I'm hiding the fact it's gone a bit thin on top). Every t-shirt I own is band t-shirt. I have several tats & piercings. A long leather coat. DM's. Faded blue jeans. I go to gigs regularly.

When people ask who my favourite bands are, I tell them Iron Maiden, Megadeth and Metallica, in that order.

If I were to tell them the truth, I would say Cliff Richard, Iron Maiden, Megadeth and Metallica, in that order.

I have every Cliff CD. I have a DVD of Cliff live in concert. My first ever gig was Cliff at Wembley almost 18 years ago at the age of 12.

My favourite songs are "Wired for Sound" and "We don't talk anymore".

We have a Cliff Richard calender in the kitchen (we tell visitors it was a joke present).

Cliff Richard, is my guilty pleasure.

*Edit: And let's not forget Heathcliffe: www.amazon.co.uk/Cliff-Richard-Heathcliff/dp/B00004CV5K
(Thu 13th Mar 2008, 16:06, More)

» Cars

The time I was almost carjacked
Many moons ago, a 17 year old Smurf was out for a drive in his parents battered old Toyota Corolla.

Driving along North Station Road in Colchester, I was coming up level to what was at the time, the Midland Bank. As I drew nearer 4 men in balaclavas and brandishing shotguns came pelting out the bank towards the road. I did what any professional coward would do, I slid down as low as I could in the seat and accelerated like buggery, whilst imagining being carjacked for an escape vehicle or being shot.

It wasn't until I got further up the road and dared to look in my rear view mirror that I saw the camera crew on the other side of the road filming.

It was the Crimewatch re-enactment of a bank robbery that had happened a week or so before.

And I made it on to tv. From the cameras point of view, as the blokes come running out of the bank they are briefly obscured as an apparently driverless Toyota Corolla accelerates from stage left to stage right.
(Tue 27th Apr 2010, 7:06, More)

» Mix Tapes

Heavy Metal Boy Racer
So there I am, Colchester's only 'heavy metal boy racer'. I'm 20. I have the long hair, the sleeveless Iron Maiden T-shirt, the faded jeans with big belt buckle. The sun is blazing, my car is freshly polished, windows wound down, one arm out of the window with tats on show. 'Smurfs Metal Mix Tape' is blasting from the Stereo. Metallica, Maiden, Slipknot, AC/DC, Biohazard, Megadeth, trying to educate the general public in good music. I'm oh so cool.

Cue group of rock chicks walking on the pavement. Smurf lazily drives past, 'Wait & Bleed' pumping from the speakers. Rock chicks cheer. Rock chicks whistle. Rock chicks wave. They've got to be worth another pass haven't they?

Find a side street, turn around, start driving back. 'Wait & Bleed' finishes. Draw level with rock chicks. 'Barbie Girl' by Aqua starts. Loudly. Rock chicks look at me oddly. Cue mass acceleration and never driving down that road again.

Bastard. To this day I do not know why I decided to include that in my Metal Mix (which I still have 10 years on).

*pop*
(Tue 12th Feb 2008, 12:14, More)