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Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
#2 in a set of 2 threads that won't get a lot of replies on Sunday.

Sex, of course, can be really ace or pretty embarrassing and shit. Lots of things are better than bad sex in my opinion; I've more than once wished I was on my own watching telly or just settling down to sleep, while some no-mark was writhing around nude on top of me. (I should write erotic fiction really I should).

However, some things are even better, at the time and in their own way, than ace sex.

Here are two recent examples what happened to me.

1. Sinking into a hot bath after a day at work, with - in the classic girls' mag recommended style - three scented candles, lots of bubbles and a glass of wine. I actually had to say to myself "fucking hell this is great!" to acknowledge how fucking great it was. I probably said it more than once.

2. The first bite of my pizza last night, accompanied with a fuckoff big glass of nice wine and the first of 45 episodes of The Wire. My god it was a nice pizza - from a consistently reliable local company, with I think roast chicken, pineapple, sweetcorn and sausage. (YMMV). The first bite, of course, is the very best. FUCKING HELL it was good!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Serious answers would be preferable for the first few replies I think, but I can't force you.
 
Posted by Black Mask (Member # 185) on :
 
Swimming in the sea in Marseille in February felt pretty fantastic. It was utterly freezing, but after the initial shock had faded and I could move my arms and legs freely again I felt incredibly vital and POWERFUL.

Last year I walked/climbed up some massive hills and rocks, trudged through mire, waded through lochs and looked down over the Highlands of Scotland from mighty heights. There's a moment where you reach a peak, you're flushed, hot, breathing heavily, your exertions culminate and you see a whole big beautiful world spread beneath you. That feels pretty good.
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
Yeah, I think some of my most memorable moments of achievement have been connected with the physical, chemical buzz of running in a particular location: weirdly, as you'd assume maybe that I'm the more cerebral, scholarly type, I imagine I'll remember those times when I'm old far more vividly than any moments of, say, publication or promotion.

So, things like cycling hard across the span of the Golden Gate Bridge, or running in Central Park, feeling like a native NYorker. Or even a summer evening in more modest Whitby, last year, when I sprinted along a sea-path just as the tide was coming in, so on the return I was splashing through shallow water.

It's that kind of thing, when you're in touch intensely both with a place and your body, actually, that makes me feel most "alive", and, again, maybe surprisingly, most like I'm connecting with who I am.
 
Posted by scrawny (Member # 113) on :
 
Hmm. I get a real jolt of excitement when I come over the ridge into Manhattan from the airport. I've only been to New York a couple of times but there's this incredible feeling when you first see the skyline - like plugging into a giant grid - that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

The best feeling at the moment is that feeling I had last Friday, when through some absolute miracle the planets aligned meaning that:

a) It was a Friday
b) It felt like the first day of spring
c) All my work was miraculously done
d) I emailed my four favourite people at work and ALL of them were up for a big boozy lunch

Big boozy lunches are always better than sex, but when combined with a/b/c they are betterer than the bestest sex ever.

And - I feel justified in saying this since Wonderstarr has already gone with the girliest of all girly squealy 'yay!' feelings, there is something great about getting up in the morning knowing you have a new dress, a new pair of shoes, a new haircut or a reason to get dressed up that day and leaving the house feeling, for once, NOT like the world's oldest, scruffiest, dirtiest skater pretender, but actually like a million bucks. However, this feeling of looking smoking hot makes me grin like the cheshire cat, which in turn makes me look like Penfold. It's a fleeting and fragile sensation.
 
Posted by Kira (Member # 826) on :
 
Probably the most recent natural chemical buzz I've had was last weekend.

I went paintballing for the first time ever!

After rampaging round a muddy field (and when I say muddy I mean a boggy, stinking, slippery, swamp) for a couple of hours; I was completely wired with adrenaline.

I was stood at breaktime attempting to drink out of a styrofoam cup but failing miserably as my hands wouldnt stop shaking.

Being shot in the arse shortly before this point probably caused some of this. Nothing quite like a paintball pellet in the bum cheek at close range to really wake you up.

[ 11.03.2007, 13:15: Message edited by: Kira ]
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
Wow, hi Scrawny. You were author of the last actually Good Prose first post on TMO, in my opinion, so it's nice to see you back bringing your game.

I did sound a bit girly, didn't I. I'm considering whether, for instance, a great haircut plus outfit that makes you feel like $$$ is better than sex, but I'm not sure. I certainly remember the recent times I felt I looked like T3H $SEX better than I remember every time I've shagged, so they're more vivid occasions I suppose... but that's more of a kind of general aura and glow that you might carry around you for an evening, or if you're lucky a day, rather than a particular moment when you feel "yes!! this is fucking great!". That is, it's more of a sustained feeling.

For instance, I was out at a ballroom last year and two people (men!) complimented me on my shoes, but it wasn't better than sex.
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
Here's another suggestion: the moment when you wake up and realise you're off work and haven't got anything unpleasant to do all day. Especially the first moment of, say, a week off work, or the Christmas or Easter or Summer hols if you get them. Like a throwback to the start of the long vac when you were at skool. I think that's a feeling of "AHHH! fuck, yes", accompanied by stretching out blissfully in your cot.

I guess moments of... of "love" must also be better than sex sometimes, but I'm fucked if I'm going to talk about that kind of thing on here! lol
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
Oh yeah right I'm doing one more, because this was actually one of the reasons I began the thread - the first time you feel sun on your skin, or your face, every year. It was last week, for me. It was like, oh my God, that's what the sun feels like. Welcome back! Making you feel like a flower upturning to drink it in. And it's all free, and you feel it's not such a bad world.
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
If you go without alcohol or meat for a long time, too, that's a lot better than most sex when you let yourself have the first taste of chicken or cheeseburger, or even the first sniff of red wine again. For me this latter happens every Monday after my one-day "detox"* ha ha, but it's worth holding off alcohol for 48 hours in order to rediscover it again.

------------------
* not sure I'm going to be able to keep to a 1-day detox today. Maybe a 20 hour one is reasonable.

[ 11.03.2007, 13:34: Message edited by: wonderstarr ]
 
Posted by Nathan Bleak (Member # 1040) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by wonderstarr:
However, some things are even better, at the time and in their own way, than ace sex.

One that's burned into my brain despite taking place something like 13 years ago was playing properly in a band for the first time. SG5 and I had spent about 18 months as just bass and guitar jamming in living rooms, but there was an amazing moment when we started rehearsing with a drummer and a vocalist. After about 12 hours of accumalated practice, there was an incredible moment where everything clicked into place and we started sounding like a unit. That was really exhilirating, that kind of almost instant music where suddenly you sound like a real band, bouncing through a song semi-certain it's going to fall apart at any moment, but riding it through right to the end. That was amazing; potent enough that I can still clearly remember it over a decade later, and the excitement can still echo down the years even now.
 
Posted by Ringo (Member # 47) on :
 
I want to post on this, but I don't think it's worth it. It'll be about driving and I don't think anyone really cares do they.

Fuck, no, I'd be boring even myself.
 
Posted by ben (Member # 13) on :
 
"Better than sex" is one of those grim memes, along with "women are so much better at multitasking" which seems to stem from the dismal transmogrification of feminism as a political liberation movement into feminism as a catch-all lifestyle that seems to involve having to work fucking stupid hours in order to spend money on useless shit (at what meeting was that one passed, sisters?).

Maybe it goes further back than that - back to a time when, in all honesty, sex probably was a pretty grim two-pushes-and-a-pull business for most women - hence chocolate, trinkets and daytime soaps were much more on a par with half an hour of making the two-backed beast. Say about the mid-seventies - before "being a multi-faceted lover" became part of aspirational male lifestyles. At any rate, it reminds me of Shirley Conran and Ruby Wax and the others who managed to 'monetise' feminism, turning it from an ideal into a media opportunity - thence into a pretty well-established career path.

Maybe I'm way off the mark - but that's the visceral response I get to the phrase 'better than sex'. Maybe I should make more effort to ignore Cosmo and the like, but it's hard to let it slide when a top-selling mag still strikes some of those 3rd-wave poses while filling its rear third with adverts promising to make you a better person by hacking your tits into male-approved forms.
 
Posted by Black Mask (Member # 185) on :
 
Not getting any, ben?
 
Posted by Boy Racer (Member # 498) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by ben:
The visceral response I get to the phrase 'better than sex'.

Mine's that if you think there's something better you can't be doing it right.
 
Posted by Nathan Bleak (Member # 1040) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by Boy Racer:
Mine's that if you think there's something better you can't be doing it right.

Come on then, talk us through how you do it 'right'. I could do with a laugh. The idea that sex Boy Racer-style is literally the most incredible experience a human being can undergo in this world is sort of making me chuckle, but what will really lift my day is a breakdown of the event itself.
 
Posted by Nathan Bleak (Member # 1040) on :
 
Step one: Be an overweight smoker...
 
Posted by Nathan Bleak (Member # 1040) on :
 
That may not be integral to the experience, I suppose. More like an added extra.
 
Posted by H1ppychick (Member # 529) on :
 
...and the "most predictable response" prize goes to...*rustles envelope*... Boy Racer!

Sadly Boy Racer couldn't be with us, but accepting the award on his behalf, here's Nicholas Lyndhurst!
 
Posted by H1ppychick (Member # 529) on :
 
curse you, Nathan Bleak *shakyfist*. With your rapid response you are making me look bad (ok then, worse).
 
Posted by Boy Racer (Member # 498) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by Nathan Bleak:
That may not be integral to the experience, I suppose. More like an added extra.

Definately, it's like mild auto-asphixia.
 
Posted by Black Mask (Member # 185) on :
 
Genital turbulence.
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
Coming soon: Why Don't Men Ever Want to Ask For Directions lol!

Plus We All Know Ladies Love Shoes! Here's the Top Ten Reasons they're Better Than Chocolate
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by Nathan Bleak:
Come on then, talk us through how you do it 'right'. I could do with a laugh.

Here's a clue from another thread.

quote:
the tried and tested method of drinking heavily in public until I wake up with someone hott.


It sounds like the sex-act falls somewhere in the "lost" middle portion between getting pissed and waking up, so I'm not entirely sure how sex ranks as the ultimate experience in BR's life.
 
Posted by New Way Of Decay (Member # 106) on :
 
 -

PEASE BOY RACER. BOBO STILL SORE.
 
Posted by dang65 (Member # 102) on :
 
I'm quite happy to admit that the greatest emotional release I ever felt was when England won the 2003 Rugby World Cup. And that includes the birth of our children [Embarrassed]

That probably sounds a bit odd, I know, but I'd watched all the previous RWCs and England were always in with a good chance (unlike the soccer version) and always went out in the most frustrating way - to a superman Jonah Lomu or five fucking drop goals from Jannie de Beer [Mad] Or by being shit at just the wrong moment.

Then we got to the final, and the last seconds of the final. I don't know if it would have felt the same if we'd just walked it. I think it had to go down to the wire like that, and when the whistle went I let out a sort of roar which I can still feel now, 4 years later. It nearly turned me inside out. Only time I've ever done that.

I suspect if England ever won the soccer World Cup again then we'd have trouble remembering what was supposed to be so good about sex.
 
Posted by New Way Of Decay (Member # 106) on :
 
Jesus, sorry everyone.
 
Posted by Boy Racer (Member # 498) on :
 
Predictable it may be, but it's truly how I feel.

I know what Thorn's saying about playing in a band, I know how I feel when I'm dancing unselfconsciously to music I love, when I'm damming a stream, or lost in painting, driving, riding a wave, or whatever. All of those things are absolutely fucking fabulous things in their own right. But better than good sex? I honestly don't know.
 
Posted by Ringo (Member # 47) on :
 
Wow can you imagine if BR and Snorton had sex together? I think the world would crack.
 
Posted by MiscellaneousFiles (Member # 60) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by Boy Racer:
Predictable it may be, but it's truly how I feel.

...when I'm dancing unselfconsciously to music I love...

Staying with the predictable theme:
 -
 
Posted by Nathan Bleak (Member # 1040) on :
 
Boy Racer's bragging post has led my imagination down a pretty unfortunate path. I'm picturing him sat on the edge of his bed in a string vest, socks, and no pants, finishing a cigarette, as he sways slightly with the drink. Behind him a rake thin girl, also drunk slips out of her clothes and reclines nervously on the bed. Boy Racer leans to his bedside table and after a few inebriated attempts manages to get the cigarette butt into the week-old can of coca cola next to his lamp. Maneuvering like an oil tanker he gets up off the bed and turns round to look at the shivering girl in front of him. He smiles to himself and lets out a leery grunt of approval. Then he belches into his fist. Creakily, he climbs up onto the the bed, pulls the girl's cold ankles slowly apart and then collapses between between her legs. Hoisting himself further up the bed, like a walrus on an ice floe, he reaches down past his waist to feed his cock into his partner's clammy hole... and the magic begins. Face buried in the pillow, muffling his grunts, Boy Racer slams his pelvis forward three times, before releasing his sperm with a visceral howl, like Dang watching England win the rugby world cup. Rolls off with a squelch, and reaches for his cigarettes muttering "Nothing like it. Absolutely nothing in the world like it..." as his partner lies next to him shivering and queasy.

[ 12.03.2007, 06:58: Message edited by: Nathan Bleak ]
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
I thought I knew Boy Racer, kind of... I thought I had a sense of the guy! But he seems to have turned into a cross between Patrick Swayze in Point Break and Just William, spending his days surfing, losing himself in painting or damming streams when he isn't working out or zen painting. I expect him to list his other hobbies as catchin insects, eatin sherbert dibdabs, weight training, just chilling on the white sands, sculpting beautiful ladies from life models and goin to the pitchers.
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
Yeah, I was going to do something like that, Nathan, but work keeps getting in the way.

"How Do You Think Other Forumites Have Sex*" is another potential thread.

-----------------
* Or "make love" if you're Boy Racer, I expect.
 
Posted by Nathan Bleak (Member # 1040) on :
 
It's a good idea, but I don't think many people would bother putting the effort in, to be honest.
 
Posted by Boy Racer (Member # 498) on :
 
Lol.

quote:
Originally posted by Nathan Bleak:
Boy Racer's bragging post.

I’d like to make it clear that I wasn’t bragging. I don’t make any claims to any special abilities in that area. I just really like sex. I was trying to spare people by not going into greater detail.

quote:
Originally posted by wonderstarr:
a cross between Patrick Swayze in Point Break and Just William

I’m absolutely crap at surfing, but even a few seconds on top of a wave really is incredible.

I was trying to think of the stuff that to me is closest to being up there with good sex. For me those are things which I enjoy a lot in which I can lose myself. They’re not things I necessarily do a lot now. Though this thread has made me want to do them again/more.

Lol@”make love”.
 
Posted by scrawny (Member # 113) on :
 
OK, Ben, I admit the 'better than sex' meme is horribly clichéd - but I think it's this sense of cliché that makes for an easy response. Everyone know what wonderstarr meant - what are the things in your life that make you grin from ear to ear/make your heart beat faster/make you almost sick with enjoyment, alla Dang's post?

'What's happening in your life that's awesome' isn't as much of a thread starter, I guess.

And don't get me started on women's magazines. Come the revolution, they will be jostling for space with the News of the World against my personal wall of justice.
 
Posted by Black Mask (Member # 185) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by Nathan Bleak:
It's a good idea, but I don't think many people would bother putting the effort in, to be honest.

Nathan looked up from his magazine, alerted by the keening of the girl shackled to the gurney. He stood slowly and unzipped his filthy boiler suit, he was naked underneath. He tugged at his limp penis. Nothing. He reached over to the cabinet where he kept his tools and picked up a handful of needles. He inserted them in his groin until an erection was achieved. Satsified, he turned on the arclight and pointed it at the girl. He loomed over her. He reached down and tore the duct tape gag from her mouth...
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
I think Boy Racer may be someone who Just Loves The Ladies... he can't help it.

"And luckily... they seem to feel the same way about me!
 
Posted by Ringo (Member # 47) on :
 
I think you can still use it as a benchmark even if it is a cliché. Perhaps rather than better than sex it should be things I’d rather be doing than having sex which makes a bit more sense.

I mean, sex is all good, but given the choice between having sex and spending a day throwing my car sideways through corners on a race track, I know which I’d choose to do. Sad as it may be.
 
Posted by MiscellaneousFiles (Member # 60) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by Ringo:
I mean, sex is all good, but given the choice between having sex and spending a day throwing my car sideways through corners on a race track, I know which I’d choose to do. Sad as it may be.

Hmm,

right-right-left-right > in-out-in-out

?
 
Posted by Black Mask (Member # 185) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by Ringo:
things I’d rather be doing than having sex which makes a bit more sense.

No. No, it doesn't.
I've managed to think of a few things that might be better than sex but there's nothing I'd rather be doing than having sex. I'd like to spend my entire life loafing around in bed having it off whenever I felt like it.
 
Posted by Ringo (Member # 47) on :
 
It’s probably as BR suggests, I’m not doing it right. Sex is that thing where you poke a girl in the ear with your wang until she starts swearing and leaves, right?
 
Posted by dang65 (Member # 102) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by Ringo:
Perhaps rather than better than sex it should be things I’d rather be doing than having sex which makes a bit more sense.

That does put a different slant on the question and I've spent a few minutes thinking about it and I don't think there is anything I'd rather be doing. I'm not absolutely certain, but I think if I was back to the few minutes before kick off in that RWC final and 'er in bed said, "I want it, now" then I'd jump straight in. I wouldn't be to bothered about missing the national anthems anyway.
 
Posted by New Way Of Decay (Member # 106) on :
 
Are you sure Black Mask? Has there never been a time during sex when you'd rather feel the first sunshine of spring on the back of your neck? Have you never thought 'This is alright, but not as good as a pizza'?
 
Posted by Black Mask (Member # 185) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by New Way Of Decay:
Are you sure Black Mask? Has there never been a time during sex when you'd rather feel the first sunshine of spring on the back of your neck? Have you never thought 'This is alright, but not as good as a pizza'?

Not with my current squeeze.
 
Posted by MiscellaneousFiles (Member # 60) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by New Way Of Decay:
Have you never thought 'This is alright, but not as good as a pizza'?

Pizza?! God, there must be some rubbish vaginas about these days.
 
Posted by New Way Of Decay (Member # 106) on :
 
Take that! Mother Nature.
 
Posted by MiscellaneousFiles (Member # 60) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by MiscellaneousFiles:
quote:
Originally posted by New Way Of Decay:
Have you never thought 'This is alright, but not as good as a pizza'?

Pizza?! God, there must be some rubbish vaginas about these days.
Or some incredible pizza, I suppose.
 
Posted by Vogon Poetess (Member # 164) on :
 
I had Better Than Sex cake in the US. It wasn't a very nice cake, a bit too sickly-creamy. M&S chocolate birthday cake is a bit more of a serious contender.

I'm obviously approaching this debate from a different position to most others, as I just haven't had as much sex as everyone else. Also, it's not something that happens in isolation, there's the build-up of not knowing if you're actually going to get it (the hassle of shaving legs, remembering to put decent pants on etc), the aftermath (seeing that person again), all the potential consequences (nasty diseases/pregnancy etc), and the endless onslaught of how much you're supposed to be having, and how you're supposed to be having it. I'm not sure if the brief sensation of orgasm (not guaranteed) consistently outweighs all of the above and that sex is therefore ALWAYS the bestest thing in the world.

My alternatives would include lazy stuff like bubble baths and lie-ins, and exhilarated moments like seeing your nag jump the last well clear (like Fair Along will tomorrow...).

[ 12.03.2007, 08:54: Message edited by: Vogon Poetess ]
 
Posted by Louche (Member # 450) on :
 
Sometimes the after sex bit is better than the sex bit. Like being snuggled and huggy and feeling the endorphins just sort of wish wash away. That's lovely.

I've got soppy, haven't I?
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
The problem for me about this assumption that sex is the bestest thing evah! and that anything you're doing, you'd rather be having sex, is that I don't want to do anything to the point that I get bored of it, or it gets samey.

I loved that pizza, but I don't want it every night. Many of the experiences we've named on this thread as BtS are pretty rare - which is part of the reason why they seem special and magical.

So if you believe that sex is just the best possible thing you could be doing at any one time, presumably you Do It at every opportunity - in which case, for a butterfly mentality like me at least, it would get pretty mundane. Maybe I'm not Doing It Right, but I mean... even if I had a different pizza topping everyday, it's still pizza.
 
Posted by jonesy999 (Member # 5) on :
 
Lol. If you think having sex is like eating pizza you're doing it all wrong wonderstarr.

Try practising in your bedroom with some disco music and a round loaf.
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
What's a "round loaf"? Do you mean like a pizza base, so I can build up to having..."toppings" on it? I don't understand this metaphor.
 
Posted by jonesy999 (Member # 5) on :
 
I've probably eaten more pizza than anyone here and I make sure it's a different experience every time. Try and experiment a bit: do it with the lights off, try a splash of Reggae Reggae sauce, or eating the crust from somewhere on your partner's body (Dominoes' Meteors rolled up, poked between your lovers chin rolls then eaten with Tabasco and rocket are out of this world) . Use your imagination.
 
Posted by dang65 (Member # 102) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by wonderstarr:
Many of the experiences we've named on this thread as BtS are pretty rare - which is part of the reason why they seem special and magical.

You may have hit upon an uncomfortable truth. People really don't get it very much do they.

I do wonder how many nights in a row one could have sex before one decided to just opt for a pizza instead. I wonder because I've never had the opportunity to find out. I imagine someone here has though.
 
Posted by jonesy999 (Member # 5) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by wonderstarr:
What's a "round loaf"? Do you mean like a pizza base, so I can build up to having..."toppings" on it? I don't understand this metaphor.

Yeah, a base. This is where most people fail. They're so bound up with going straight for the toppings that they miss out on the sheer sensual pleasure of a good old fashioned flour, water and salt session. There are so many ways a man can eat bread.

[ 12.03.2007, 10:06: Message edited by: jonesy999 ]
 
Posted by New Way Of Decay (Member # 106) on :
 
Maybe we could try an experiment to have sex for a month and then indulge in a pizza whenever the test subject gets horny for a month and tally up their well-being at the end. You'd need a very precise way of measuring the results for them to have any worth.

 -
 
Posted by jonesy999 (Member # 5) on :
 
I'm so ashamed of this half arsed riff on masculine boasting that I would rather be Boy Racer today.
 
Posted by dang65 (Member # 102) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by jonesy999:
quote:
Originally posted by wonderstarr:
What's a "round loaf"?

Yeah, a base.
Oh right. Not a woman then?
 
Posted by ben (Member # 13) on :
 
I can't believe no-one's yet said "looking at women's breasts" which, though not actually as good as your actual sex, is still fifteen billion times better that eating pizza, having a bath, watching the rugby and all that other old tosh you lot have suggested.
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
Anyone else... wanking over this thread yet? [Wink]
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
Need any help? [Wink]
 
Posted by dang65 (Member # 102) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by ben:
I can't believe no-one's yet said "looking at women's breasts" which, though not actually as good as your actual sex, is still fifteen billion times better that eating pizza, having a bath, watching the rugby and all that other old tosh you lot have suggested.

I dunno. Where I work you've usually had enough of breasts by about 11 a.m. It's like a dead heat in a record-number-of-entries charity Zeppelin race.
 
Posted by New Way Of Decay (Member # 106) on :
 
They'd still be clocking up ten hours of leer time a week off of you though dang. That's a rough average of 500 hours of your work time that's being sidetracked by chest-bollocky. If you're still freelancing, I'd suggest claiming back your time.
 
Posted by dang65 (Member # 102) on :
 
Ooh. Looks like we're about to have web access taken away here where I work. This will be the first time in 10 years that I've had no internet access during working hours. This is going to be weird. I might have to keep a blog of how it goes.
 
Posted by Nathan Bleak (Member # 1040) on :
 
Wha? Surely not? I can't live in a world without Dang. [Frown]
 
Posted by dang65 (Member # 102) on :
 
I'm starting to shake now. How long before the sweating starts?
 
Posted by Louche (Member # 450) on :
 
Dang! How will you cope? Do we need to set up a rosta so people can email you hourly with updates?

11am: Today's Random Old Poster Returned iiiisssss (insert name here)

12pm Thorn evisertaes someone!

1pm Black Mask goes mad.*


* I would rather this doesn't happen again. Mask, take note.
 
Posted by MiscellaneousFiles (Member # 60) on :
 
This is so wrong.

Can't you just get a new job?

[ 12.03.2007, 12:35: Message edited by: MiscellaneousFiles ]
 
Posted by dang65 (Member # 102) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by Louche:
Dang! How will you cope?

Plan A: Get another job.

I have no Plan B, sadly.
 
Posted by Louche (Member # 450) on :
 
At least if you get another job you will be able to recultivate a love of breasts. Unless you get another job where the office is staffed by half naked Valkyries. But! Even if that happens at least you'll have internet access.
 
Posted by dang65 (Member # 102) on :
 
This is obviously an even bigger crisis than I thought. Louche is being optimistic. [Eek!]
 
Posted by ralph (Member # 773) on :
 
[Big Grin]
 
Posted by Louche (Member # 450) on :
 
Don't make melive without you, Dang. Don't.
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by scrawny:

And don't get me started on women's magazines. Come the revolution, they will be jostling for space with the News of the World against my personal wall of justice.

Come the revolution, you're going to start sticking pages from the NotW and women's magazines on your wall? Lol!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Welcome... to my Humble Abode!" grinned Boy Racer, opening the door and standing back politely to let the lady enter. She was a stunner! The eyes of Maria de Madeiros (Fabienne) from Tarantino's Masterpice of Autheurship, Pulp Fiction, with the hairstyle she had showed off to grate effect in "Cuéntame" (2006). Amazing boobies, which to Boy Racer, meant BIG ONES. He could just imagine getting his hands and face around those bazonka joes. But that was to follow. First... the niceties!

"A bite to eat?" he offered warmly, showing her the kitchen. "Fabienne" (a Gentleman never reveals a lady's true name) opened her dark pools of eyes wide at the spread of appetising and authentic amuse-Bouches laid out on a dark Cedar table Boy Racer brought back from an amazing travelling holiday in South America. "Patatas bravas ... Solomillo a la castellana," Boy Racer recited accurately. "I love to cook," he admitted, shucking off his funky-designed t-shirt and rolling the scallops roughly but confidently in his hands. "It gives such pleasure to make gorgeous creations. And, to please others." He added, lifting the morsel to Fabienne's mouth and smiling with satisfaction as her lips, then her eyes, closed in perfect ecstasy.

Boy Racer flipped the cap from a rare Cerveza and hit the remote on his stereo. Immediately, a specially-prepared compilation began.

"Sounds?" he asked invitingly, his smile grinning.

Fabienne echoed his expression (smiling) as the compilation began with Ray Liotta's classic monologue from Goodfellas (Marty , 1990). Then, the familiar "Little Green Bag" from QT's amazing memorable Movie, 'Dogs, followed, and Boy Racer quickly slipped into an incredibly sexy but subtle dance Routine, adapted by himself from the sequence in Godard's Bande a Part. By the end of the dance, he stood naked.

"Exercise bike," he explained modestly, glancing down at his bod as he saw Fabienne looking there in wonder. "I cycle while watching the work of great Auters. And of course, I surf."

"What's it like... to surf?" Fabienne whispered in sensually-accented English.

"Better than anything Baby," Boy Racer uttered, his voice thick with desire. As he stepped towards her, having to stop a foot away because his attraction to her was evident. (He didn't like to be crude, but he had a big one). "Better than Anything... except THIS."
 
Posted by ben (Member # 13) on :
 
lol - o dear. "Weclome back you ole bastar"
 
Posted by Zygote (Member # 883) on :
 
Using his heel, Boy Racer kicked the bedroom door shut behind him and dimmed the lights. He was in a particularly randy mood this evening. Twelve pints of Snakebite had worked wonders for his sex drive and the five crushed ecstasy tablets he'd cleverly dissolved in Clare's gin and tonic earlier in the evening were beginning to take effect. Her eyes had started to roll and her vision became extremely distorted - so much so that Boy Racer's penis looked ten times larger than it actually did. "A no-brainer!" he mused, before forcefully shoving his drug-fuelled 'lady' on to the bed. She didn't seem overly concerned by this, but by now what little remained of her sanity had vanished - she had no sense of what was right or wrong any more.

"Uh-uh-uh. Why did you do that, you fucker?" his subject enquired; her clothes being randomly torn from her body. There was a glint of evil in Boy Racer's eyes and before long his penis was throbbing. All he wanted to feel was the moistness of Clare's pussy. He pounced on top of her and placed his hands around her neck - firmly enough to prevent her from uttering any words that could potentially tarnish his experience, but soft enough to prevent her from blacking out. The latter situation had almost led to his being arrested last year and he didn't want to be placed in a similar predicament. Not this time. This time would be special. A night to remember...

[ 12.03.2007, 14:29: Message edited by: Zygote ]
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
 - I'm not wanking anymore.
 
Posted by ralph (Member # 773) on :
 
I am [Embarrassed]
 
Posted by Samuelnorton (Member # 48) on :
 
Fucking perverts. [Frown]
 
Posted by ralph (Member # 773) on :
 
Aren't you well over your monthly post quota, Mr. Norton?
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
Cheer up everyone! Here's something else that's "BtS" [Smile]

 -
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
I know you've seen it cause it was TMO that shared the joy with me, but just in case you've lost the link!

Tiger Does The Splits 2:34
 
Posted by Samuelnorton (Member # 48) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by ralph:
Aren't you well over your monthly post quota, Mr. Norton?

Probably. But I'm making up for the last three months or so.
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Black Mask slid into bed beside Jeanine.

"You alright, doll?"

"I'm OK, pet."

She barely looked up from her book. Mask reached down to his side of the bed, finding the thick volume of From Hell bookmarked with one of Lily's drawings. He flipped the pages open, glanced at the sugarpaper crayon sketch. my dady dressed as a monster for hallo een by lily mask age 5 Himself as a scrawl of hair and jaggy teeth.

"How're the tots?" asked Jeanine, still without looking round.

"Lily was hanging Beth from the light flex," Mask replied, idly, quickly. "They told me they were playing Osama bin Laden."

"That's nice, dear."

"Yeah, I filmed it on my mobile if you want to look, later."

"Maybe later."

Mask dropped the book, keeping his place, and rolled back into bed. Now his wife looked up at him. She studied his smile, half-suspicious.

"What have you done?"

"Nothing!"

"What are you thinking, bad man?" she pursued, digging her fingers into his ribs.

"I was thinking about when we first met," he told her.

"About how you nearly chatted up my friend Caitlin?"

"No... I was thinking about that Beatles lyric." He sang it, softly. He wasn't a natural singer, but she kept smiling, lowering her book. "Would you believe in a love at first sight? And I was thinking... before that night, I would have said no, I didn't. But..." he shrugged, genuinely bashful.

"But what?" She dropped the book, snuggled closer to him.

"But you know what. But you made me believe in it."

Her face angled up, close to his. She dealt him a soft kiss on the mouth. "Why are you being so nice, bad man?"

"Cause I want a shag," he whispered.

"Lucky you," she said, biting his earlobe.
 
Posted by H1ppychick (Member # 529) on :
 
awww @ daddy mask

ewww @ zygote....and you wonder why you've been branded 'a bit rapey'?
 
Posted by Zygote (Member # 883) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by H1ppychick:
ewww @ zygote....and you wonder why you've been branded 'a bit rapey'?

I think that 'rapey' is a little harsh, but there's not much I can do about it now. I just have a fairly active imagination. That's what I keep telling myself anyway.
 
Posted by Boy Racer (Member # 498) on :
 
Stupendolol@Wondervacs
 
Posted by Black Mask (Member # 185) on :
 
Weird.
 
Posted by ralph (Member # 773) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by Zygote:
quote:
Originally posted by H1ppychick:
ewww @ zygote....and you wonder why you've been branded 'a bit rapey'?

I think that 'rapey' is a little harsh, but there's not much I can do about it now. I just have a fairly active imagination. That's what I keep telling myself anyway.
Don't let a few naysayers cramp your style dude. You keep writing and I'll keep enjoying it. [Cool]
 
Posted by Boy Racer (Member # 498) on :
 
Why not start a seperate thread just for the two you.
 
Posted by Zygote (Member # 883) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by Boy Racer:
Why not start a seperate thread just for the two you.

Why not learn how to spell 'separate' correctly.
 
Posted by Boy Racer (Member # 498) on :
 
I'd rather have sex.
 
Posted by ralph (Member # 773) on :
 
lol
 
Posted by Zygote (Member # 883) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by Boy Racer:
I'd rather have sex.

Ditto - I enjoy it immensely.
 
Posted by ralph (Member # 773) on :
 
Perhaps you two should get together offline?
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by Zygote:
quote:
Originally posted by Boy Racer:
I'd rather have sex.

Ditto - I enjoy it immensely.
I don't know, does it count as "sex" if she's unconscious?
 
Posted by Zygote (Member # 883) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by wonderstarr:
I don't know, does it count as "sex" if she's unconscious?

Good question. I reckon so. Not that I am an expert in this particular area.
 
Posted by Zygote (Member # 883) on :
 
Bracer stood facing the four-poster bed, his hands resting on his hips. The combination of Sir Mix-A-Lot and the four naked women sprawled out before him ensured that Bracer's dreamlike state was maintained - as indeed was the swelling that had developed down the front of his black leather thong. "So, ladies - I hope that you're all game for a piece of the action. I know I certainly am, and there's more than enough to go around..." Bracer boasted, whilst flicking a cocaine-absorbed bogey towards the bedroom mirror; the women purring with every word uttered.

This was an ideal situation. His exhibition at the gallery was an unprecedented success; it was merely a matter of time before he was tracked down by the wealth of incredibly beautiful women that his culturally diverse paintings had attracted. After several drinks and lines in the bar afterwards, Bracer had no trouble whatsoever in inviting any women he chose back to his hotel room. It was only a matter of time before he was doing what he loved doing most: having sex.

Within minutes of staggering into the hotel room, the four women had thrown their Gucci handbags into the corner of the room, kicked off their Prada shoes and were wrestling their underwear off each other. By the time Bracer had relieved himself of his clothes, the women were writhing around on the satin sheets, enticing him to join them.

"Come on now." one of the women whispered. Monica, her name was. But that was irrelevant. "Take off that thong and join us. I am so fucking wet. I want to feel your fingers of creativity inside me. Right. Fucking. Now."

Without further ado, Bracer jumped out of his thong and into the mass of gyrating limbs. Heaven, he thought. Sheer fucking heaven. As a spotty, greasy-haired teenager, he'd dreamt of this moment - this opportunity. And here he was, living the dream.

Fumbling around his waist, Monica wanted the first slice of the action. She found Bracer's erect penis and gradually edged her body closer. Bracer sensed being inside somebody and - seeing that it was his 'favourite', Monica - moved his body on top of her and began fucking her with slow, long strokes.

"Uh-huh-huh-huh-" Monica's moans made the three other women extremely envious. The bitch! How had she taken it upon herself to obtain first servings? Instead, the three other women began playing with each other, much to the delight of Bracer. What a spectacle, he mused. Perhaps this could pave the way for his next selection of paintings. Hmmm.

The temperature in the room had gradually been creeping up; so much so that the hotel room windows were steamed up. The heat was also affecting Bracer, who was now gushing sweat. Monica sensed that the erectness of his penis was becoming less prevalent. Bracer started to panic.

"What's the matter babe?" Monica enquired.

"Erm. I think it's getting too hot in here. Erm. Shit..." Bracer was blushing profusely as his flaccid penis flopped out of Monica. She pushed him back, the three other women looking extremely puzzled.

"What the fuck is THAT all about?" Monica was pointing at the floppy penis; the severity of the situation leading it to shrivel up to half its 'normal' size. Bracer - attempting to salvage the rapidly eroding scenario - started thrashing his cock around with both hands, in a vain attempt to restore some life into it. He flicked it, strummed it - all to no avail. Deadly.

"I... I... This has never happened before! I swear!" Tears were streaming down Bracer's cheeks, so he jumped off the bed, grabbed his thong and darted out of the hotel room.
 
Posted by Jimmy Big Nuts (Member # 895) on :
 
Ah, yes, hello there!

The Boy Racer grinned enthusiastically at the charming young lady who had somehow landed on on his doorstep. He cupped one hand under the dripping paintbrush that was being held in the other, to prevent the eggshell white from spoiling his new kicks.

I'm doing a spot of decorating, but I'd love to chat - please - do come in! Excuse the mess!

The brush hadn't hit it's tray before Boy Racer was darting across dusty stripped floorboards to turn down the ipod hifi in the corner of the room.

It's DJ Krush! he shouted, as he pretended to fiddle with the volume control.

It's from Japan! I'll just turn it down!.

The music boomed out ever louder for a few moments before finally conceding to the hum of a nearby oven extractor fan..

'Well now, that's much better isn't it. Do you...like DJ Krush...hmm?'

The woman stood near the door, clutching a clipboard thick with paper. She made a motion with her pen to suggest she was running down a list.

'Mr.....Racer? I'm here to ask you if you're going to be voting in the next election. I'm from your local council. Would you like to see some ID?'

But Boy Racer wasn't hearing her. As she asked him about the ID, she looked up, and he caught a glimpse of the most beautiful pair of eyes he'd ever seen. Two magnificent sky blue crystals, twinkling in the middle of her lovely, lovely face.

Oh...what a lovely face...

'I'm.....sorry? You are Mr. Boy Racer?'

'Oh! Why yes, yes of course. Now then, what can I get you?'

Boy Racer rushed over to the tea cupboard and began pulling out shiny glass-topped cylinders.

'I have green tea, black tea, gunpowder tea...'

He watched her as her eyes widened at his magnificent tea collection. Yes, she was a thoroughbred lady indeed. Interested in politics too! Heavens! He couldn't wait to make her laugh, to watch those eyes shoot lasers of loveliness from behind her elegant spectacles.

'You don't require to see my ID, Mr. Racer?'

Oh, I'll want to see some ID alright

'Stop it! No!'.

Boy Racer froze. Had she heard him? Did that...He had said that out loud? She was still looking at him. He placed a drum of Lapsang Souchong onto the paint spattered kitchen counter. Light was streaming through the patio windows, bouncing off the lids of the tea caddies and projecting tiny arcs around the open plan living area. His handiwork had never looked better.

'okay Mr. Racer. Well, I'm here to simply find out if you plan on voting in the next election. You aren't registered'.

'No! No! Well, I wouldn't be! I only just moved here recently, you see. Hence why...ahhh..'

Before he knew what he was doing, Boy Racer found himself stretching out his t-shirt before her, to emphasise the generous amount of paint that he had casually wiped on it in the preceeding weeks. To think - wiping paint on a Maharishi original! He hoped that she would notice this, and understand just what kind of a man he was.

'the old....ahh...'

The council lady turned back to her clipboard

'..paint.'

'I don't have time for tea, I'm afraid, much as I could do with a cup!'

her face softened as she joked. Boy Racer felt sick with nerves. Here was a beautiful lady, smiling, in his own very kitchen! What must he do?

'Mr. Racer, do you live here alone?'

This was it. He moved away from the tea caddies, closing the cupboard door as slowly and elegantly as he could. The lady was standing next to the breakfast bar. As she leaned over her clipboard, her thick brown hair was gently touching against a jacket that he had left there after coming home from an evening at EAT.FOOD. Her hair was touching his things! He slid over to the hifi again.

'Mr Racer? Is there anybody else living here with you?

Just get it out, Racer. Get it out now

A thick film of sweat was growing on his forehead. He wiped at it with his t-shirt, uknowingly smearing paint onto his face. Be charming, be charming. Use the old Racer magic.

'No...I live here alone, as a matter of fact...I...Just moved in!'

The lady made a note on her clipboard

'Please do have a seat! The paint is perfectly dry!'

'No thank you, Mr. Racer, this won't take long'

She looked up at him as she reached up and gently plucked the glasses from her face. He could feel his heart in his throat, and was not a little giddy. He laughed, perhaps a little too loudly. He started to fiddle with the ipod, desperately trying to find the DJ Shadow vs. Sade mix that toby had done for him.

'So..can I confirm that you want to see my boobs?'

The words shattered something inside him. He turned his head as slowly as he could muster

'your.....boobs?'

His fingers couldn't seem to keep a grip of the ipod. It was like a terrible dream!

'move, Mr Racer. You aren't likely to move?'

Dear God! What was happening to him! Oh how he would love to see those boobs! He let out a long sigh as her thin summer shirt melted before his eyes and dripped, eggshell white, onto the cool tiled floor of the kitchen area.

'No..I..I've only just moved in!'

'So I gather.... Look, I don't want to take up your time Mr. Racer. I tell you what, I'll leave this form here with you. Can you please fill it in and post it back to me? The address is on this envelope'

She reached out towards him, envelope in hand. He grinned as hard as he could, yet found himself unable to move. He could feel his eyes goggling out of his head.

'Okay Mr. Racer, well, thanks for your time. Please try and get that back to me within the next week or so'

You're screwing this up, party boy! You're doing it again!

'y-yes.. I'

The room exploded with DJ Shadow, and the lovely lady took flight. Boy Racer tried to move after her, to hold the door for her and assure her that he would indeed post the form ASAP, but something kept him rooted to the spot. DJ Shadow was so loud that he couldn't organize his thoughts in time, and he couldn't even hear if she had shut the door or not.

[ 14.03.2007, 07:09: Message edited by: Jimmy Big Nuts ]
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
Ouch! brilliantly painful.
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
Meanwhile I am detecting an auteurist "motif" in Zygote's posts: the dialogue "Uh-uh-uh."
 
Posted by Zygote (Member # 883) on :
 
Cheeky.
 
Posted by Waynster (Member # 56) on :
 
He stood propped against the fireplace with a pink gin in his hand and that oh so familiar devilish grin of a cad across his face. The years may be telling, but Bracer had weathered them well - immaculately atired in his golf club
blazer, Gauloises in his cartier cigarette older, and the gold monocle handed from father to son, he was every inch the proper gent, and the surroundings of this country inn were the natural habitat of the dashing swine.

He eyed the fillies playing bridge in the corner, awaiting to pounce - they were however very aware of this predator, and this was his hunting ground. They all acted as ignorantly as possible, daring not to look up in case their eyes locked and incessantly concentrating on their respective card hands, but Bracer could smell the fear. He saw their tells - the giveaways identifying their powerlessness to his presence and charm - the beads of sweat on their foreheads, the slight quiver of the hands as their held their playing cards tightly, and their undying refusal to look towards him.

He grinned, for he knew they could not resist much longer. Like a hidden tiger eyeing a bloat of hippopotami, BR selected his target - there was always the weak one - the one whose defiance was only outweighed by her undying inquisitiveness. And today he had identified Edith, an 75 year old widow of some breeding and financial comfort. The signs were all there - the taught lips, the constant fixated stare directly at the cards before her, the minute but very apparent shake -yes she was ripe for it and would soon be in his grasp. He twirled one end of his handlebar moustache and positioned himself sideways on, still aiming that smile and not digressing from the target - the rustle made her look up and she instantly screamed, instantaneously covering her mouth.

"Yes" he thought - "she'll soon be mine!"

The other elderly ladies were quick to protect the alarmed filly and crowded her in a protective embrace - BR liked that. He'd always favoured quantity over quality in his twilight years. He took his moment to strike conversation:

"I say, it's rather nice out today, isn't it?"

Again he flashed that well rehearsed grin.

Edith was now reduced to tears, and her sobs had alerted the landlord who had been serving the locals in the public bar. He took one look at the lustful bounder and his face contorted with rage. It had been once too often now, and whilst he had been forgiving of BR's eccentricity and his senility in his later years, it was the last time he would abide the man brazenly
warming his exposed genitals in the snug again.

[ 13.03.2007, 12:00: Message edited by: Waynster ]
 
Posted by Ringo (Member # 47) on :
 
BR slowly climbed the stairs, his hands trembling as he savoured the moment of anticipation.

He went into the study and turned on the computer screen

Porn was already on

He had a wank

then went to bed

by himself

The End
 
Posted by Boy Racer (Member # 498) on :
 
Wonderstars and Bignuts posts have a level of incidental detail that's pretty pwningly accurate, I almost splurted Green Tea all over my Marharishis on reading Jimmy's.
 
Posted by ralph (Member # 773) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by Ringo:
He went into the study and turned on the computer screen

Porn was already on

He had a wank

then went to bed

by himself

The End

applause
 
Posted by Boy Racer (Member # 498) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by Ringo:
BR slowly climbed the stairs, his hands trembling as he savoured the moment of anticipation.

He went into the study and turned on the computer screen

Porn was already on

He had a wank

then went to bed

by himself

The End

Don't project your life on mine Ringo.

I don't have a computer.
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
Wait a minute... every other affectionate parody of BR's life earned "LOLTASTIC", even when it portrayed him as a delusional, pretentious loser in love (Benway's, not mine!) but the idea that he sometimes enjoys a wank gets a firm, cold riposte?
 
Posted by Boy Racer (Member # 498) on :
 
But I'm saying that it's the computer aspect that's the issue rather than the wanking. The coldness of the style was supposed to mirror that of Ringo's original post.

[ 14.03.2007, 05:34: Message edited by: Boy Racer ]
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
You're offended.

That Ringo said you have a computer?

[Confused]
 
Posted by Boy Racer (Member # 498) on :
 
No, you twat, it's supposed to be a joke. Faux offense, but not at the wanking reference, you see?

No? Oh well.

[ 14.03.2007, 05:40: Message edited by: Boy Racer ]
 
Posted by Nathan Bleak (Member # 1040) on :
 
I thought you were saving up for a Mac? So it's not that offensive to say you had a computer. He just got the timing wrong?
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
Maybe BR was offended by the idea he would have a PC.

As opposed to a Mac.

Maybe he's the twat?

 -

Because if you look.

They are both twats.
 
Posted by Boy Racer (Member # 498) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by Boy Racer:
Faux offense


 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by wonderstarr:
You're offended.

That Ringo said you have a computer?

[Confused]

^^ running "gag" based on the style of Ringo's post and your rejoinder ^^

Never mind.
 
Posted by Nathan Bleak (Member # 1040) on :
 
I thought Boy Racer was being pretty good humoured about this ribbing, until he flipped out at Ringo for - let's face it - no good reason. Wanker.
 
Posted by Boy Racer (Member # 498) on :
 
quote:
Originally posted by wonderstarr:
quote:
Originally posted by wonderstarr:
You're offended.

That Ringo said you have a computer?

[Confused]

^^ running "gag" based on the style of Ringo's post and your rejoinder ^^

Never mind.

Thrown by the emoticon.
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
I think we need StevieX here to explain some of these complex ironic references and tongue-in-cheek posts.
 
Posted by Black Mask (Member # 185) on :
 
 -
BOBO CONFOOZED
 
Posted by Jimmy Big Nuts (Member # 895) on :
 
I was basing my BR more on his own persistent self-parody than his actual self. And I was just copying kovacs, which is all I've ever done.

[ 14.03.2007, 07:07: Message edited by: Jimmy Big Nuts ]
 
Posted by Nathan Bleak (Member # 1040) on :
 
I just did an obvious and hasty sketch, which was then overshadowed by JBN and Wonderstarr's genius, which is all I've ever done.
 
Posted by wonderstarr (Member # 1158) on :
 
That "BOBO" shit makes me laugh every time [Big Grin]
 


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