A friend just emailed me this story. In his defence, he’s dyslexic and wrote it when drunk. Against his defence, err, the story. Sometimes I fear my friends.

Nothyng Wotsoever

Herman woke up wiped the dried seamen from his eyes and ejaculated louly and un comfotambly ,his loins trembled with a lack of pashion. Oh oh oh jess his throbbing male member wined in an unconvincing welsh accent..he beat himself off agin using a blunt scalpal. His fantasies had been going down hill sinc the holcorst.

Quiverring slightly his partnr left without giving him a third glance, and threw up on his way down the esculator. His pulsing conshence attacked him again but this time with more real pashion nd less ‘carry-on’ irony. With regret he accepted a kind of relinty and pealled back his teabag duvet. Realising he was no longer in a childrens bbc documentary he burst the third boil on his right thigh. Annd blast those buget electricians this could have been purgatory on earth but now it was just som sad christmastry collage an he was the fairy.

Steffan examined herman with a detached air and a pride in his lack of fluffy white rabbits. Wailling herman managed to block out pleasant relityys and jumped into a lepARD SKIIN Gstringwhich chaffed but alittle, he felt dressed and redy for theday ahead. . Groping for some kind of moral or hidden message steffan died unconvincingly and nobody even bothered to whipe his smered lipstick so he looked ‘beautiful’ again.

O wo oh wo cried wol the owl ,and the whole story colapsef into Disney on acid.aaddin binnded intoroom usibg special’indian’ rope’trick’.Jess quitly ;’creamed her tarts’ in the corner but not even the lecherous drubk x dublinner old age hippy cared about that. Herman having reached the moist entrance to the local theme park, foolishly purchased a ticked to the ripped sphincter ride. (the cruyd liked that).

Quickley he realised the basis for the ‘rides’ name and cried like you would imagine a jism encrusted pale goose pimpled fleshed lepar skin g string wearing star of a mills an boon novel would. The large mulatto freek in the car behind him shrieked with a mixture of pleasure and pasta and pondered existence itself.