So its 1956,
I'm on a camel talking with my friend Rupert, in the Bajari desert of the fukii people, in Asia.When, Rupie, jumps off his fucking camel and starts boffing mine, which makes for discomfort atop the damn thing. I shouted "Rupie, stop boffing my fucking camel are you insane!", but he carried on regardless, whilst my buttocks were getting a real pounding. "Rupie, stop boffing the fucking camel, have a wank like a gentleman!". To this he replied "I'm not just boffing it, I've got an itch down there, I had to ease the irritability somehow!" whilst thrusting away. By this point I felt awfully sore and again shouted "Rupie stop boffing the fucking thing my arse can't take any more!", well, Rupert groaned in satisfaction and fell to the floor, and I got my camel to trod upon him till he was dead. His wife never liked that story.
Wednesday, 23 May 2007
well, here I am.
I was just wondering about the state of my wine cellar, when I thought I'd talk to you.
I first started collecting women in the 50's.
I went to that blasted musical festival, Glasto something in 1994, I was sat in my deckchair enjoying a fine wine, when these bloody fucking young people tipped me up, rolled me in the mud and put their tent up over my aging body and had a "disco".I nearly spilt my drink.
Anyway..... many years ago, I was on a sea voyage with my very good associate Jeremy Farthingsworth. We sat on our deckchairs smoking pipes, drinking wine talking of our love for the female box, when, suddenly, Jeremy stood up quick as you like, and threw himself over the side of the ship.When the captain approached me about this I stated " Poor chap must have lost his mind". The captain offered me a hand shandy, and I thought why not.
I went to a party in the late sixties, free love, lots of beautiful young girlies, some not wearing bras! One of them offered me some powder, sprinkled on her bare chest . I inhaled immediately hoping to get into her knickers. Fouled myself instantly, whilst trying to eat my beard.Pity.
Speak with you again.
George Belloe.
I was just wondering about the state of my wine cellar, when I thought I'd talk to you.
I first started collecting women in the 50's.
I went to that blasted musical festival, Glasto something in 1994, I was sat in my deckchair enjoying a fine wine, when these bloody fucking young people tipped me up, rolled me in the mud and put their tent up over my aging body and had a "disco".I nearly spilt my drink.
Anyway..... many years ago, I was on a sea voyage with my very good associate Jeremy Farthingsworth. We sat on our deckchairs smoking pipes, drinking wine talking of our love for the female box, when, suddenly, Jeremy stood up quick as you like, and threw himself over the side of the ship.When the captain approached me about this I stated " Poor chap must have lost his mind". The captain offered me a hand shandy, and I thought why not.
I went to a party in the late sixties, free love, lots of beautiful young girlies, some not wearing bras! One of them offered me some powder, sprinkled on her bare chest . I inhaled immediately hoping to get into her knickers. Fouled myself instantly, whilst trying to eat my beard.Pity.
Speak with you again.
George Belloe.
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