All my life I have been a very material person. Above all I was concerned with what I had, where I got it from and what it meant. Even my fringe was swept across in such a way so as I looked good sitting outside French caf├ęs. God, how the worm has turned. Now I am pre-occupied with what I haven't got; with what I've lost and may never have again.

If I've learnt anything over these agonizing past weeks, it is that. That your life philosophy can be rendered false and meaningless by one small emotional event. Of course, that's another thing: there are no small emotional events. Those are the blows that sculpt and form us. Knock us into shape or knock the stuffing out of us. It's quite right we are three quarters water. We are 75% tears.

Tomorrow evening Verity will come around for dinner. She'll be getting lentils... Soggy, French green lentils with added pebbles. Verity's a vegan, at least until she gets drunk and want a kebab. In those moments her mouth will open to anything. For a long time she would drink a bottle of Chardonnay and then try desperately to straighten me out. I remember kneeling down in the toilet of a club one night, her polka dot knickers strewn across the floor and her furry pussy at face level. The only thing it aroused in me was laughter. I couldn't help thinking I was looking at a man with no penis. It seems that some women will only believe you're really 100% gay when you've turned them down, recoiled in horror at their 'flying V'. It's a psychological thing: no-one wants to feel rejected. Tristram Spencer understands that.


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  2. If you insist on making my personal life public* at least do me the courtesy of displaying a link to my Get Rich Quick schemes!

    In addition to the link I also demand that you supply me with 10 new email addresses for every time you make mention of my name. We ALL have to eat (and pay our gambling debts)!



  3. I once found a pair of polka dot pants in the ladies loo in my local library (before they banned me from the premises). I still have them in my 'collection'.
    I like your page by the way......I too have made many attempts to befriend spammers (especially the Kodogo family from Nigeria). I think I will try your letterbox wank method next time the wind is blowing in the right direction.
    I may also stalk some of your friends too. They look interesting in a vulnerable sort of way.

  4. Homosexual to cunninlingust is a bit of a leap and the smell's enough to make you puke.

  5. @ Steve: I refuse to be drawn into such sillyness! If you really spent you time designing and setting up that hideous and racist blog of yours, then it is jst very very sad. No kisses for you.

    @ Quiet Richard: Oh it's great to see you here! The original donkey fucker, you're wecom anytime. Help yourself to readers... no problem. X

    @ Kinkynick: No, I was no where close. I can't help uit if someone gets drunk and pushes their muff into my face Ok, it's rude and all that, but just because there's beef at the table doesn't mean you have to eat it. X


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