Kneeling before Him...



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Wednesday, April 04, 2007

A conversation had after very loud and messy sex. It is easy to see how addled our brains get.

Mac: I ran into Jan today.
Sarah: Jan?
Mac: Yes. She was best friends with Victoria. You know, the girl I dated after Veronica.
Sarah: Wow, two V’s in a row.
Mac: I know. Spooky. I think it is because Vagina starts with V. Good job the pudendum isn’t called a Xerox or something or I would never have gotten laid.
Sarah: Uh. Some how I don’t think all the girl’s you have slept with had names starting with V. For instance, SARAH!
Mac: I suppose you are right. BUT! It is a spooky truth, that for some reason, all the girls I have slept with who have a name starting with V, all of them have a name starting with V. Coincidence? I DON’T THINK SO!
Sarah (with much shaking of her head while Mac laughed): That is spooky.
Mac: I crack myself up. I really do.
Sarah: Good job, because no one is as funny as you.
Mac: This is very true.
Sarah: Well except maybe Eddie Izzard.
Mac: He wears feathers. He doesn’t count.
Sarah: Eddie is gay?
Mac: Well, he says he isn’t.
Sarah: They all say they aren’t, except Robbie Williams, who suggests he likes it both ways. That probably gets him laid constantly, by three or four women at a time.
Mac: Of course. I tried that once and it did get me laid. Having said that, the girls it got me laid by were rugby groupies, so there was hardly a challenge, but it proved that it didn’t stop them.
Sarah: Did you really use that line?
Mac: No. I said I was unsure of my sexuality, wondered if I might be turning… yah yah yah.
Sarah: And they believed you were unsure? You?
Mac: Dunno. But their tongues were fucking EVERYWHERE.
Sarah: You are a completely shameless slut, McBroden.
Mac: You know, I couldn’t swear to it, but I am fairly sure one of them left her tongue in me. I was thinking of suing.

Much laughing (and some snorting) followed as Sarah imagined a girl losing her tongue and where said tongue could be left in Mac’s body.

Then Mac, in His best proper English voice, the one He saves for when the Queen mum comes visiting, (well He would have used it for her if she had ever come to visit while she was alive, I don’t expect she will visit now) decided to write a verbal letter of demand to the girl who lost her tongue. The laughter (and snorting) went on for quite some time…

Dear Madam

Our client has instructed us to communicate with you regarding the unfortunate incident at the Happytree Motel, Great Glinswick, (rooms available by the hour, home made cakes and bicycles repaired) in the early hours of Sunday 3 November 2006

It is our client's position that after certain exotic delights applied to his fundaments by your good self, the application of said delights being fuelled by a world record ingestion of what we understand to be called "tequila slammers", a foreign body, to whit a tongue, was left inside our client.

It is our client's further position that the following morning, when asked if she required her eggs to be easy over or sunny-side up, the reply seemed to be not un-adjacent to "mmmmf mm fmfmf mmfmfmf". Investigations later ascertained that the apparent inarticulacy was caused by a lack of a tongue.

Simultaneously to this discovery our client realised a certain discomfort south of the underpants elastic.

Subsequent costs incurred by our client included the following items, to whit:
---purchase of large tweezers
---purchase of miners hat, with lamp
---hire of coal miner
---purchase of one Kit Kat bar for being a good boy and not crying

Our client has further asked us to inform you of good advice given to him on the occasion of his 13th birthday by his Gran, a lady not given to mincing words.

“Boy” she said, “Now that you are becoming a man, with pubic hair appearing and bollocks about to drop, always remember that the male rectum was never designed for the purpose of accepting any foreign body, no matter how lovingly inserted”

We will be seeking redress of a sum not less than 100 pound sterling and custody of the above mentioned mining hat, with lamp. (Because every boy wishes he had one of those.)

Sometimes we really do fuck each other witless.

And god, it is just so good.

Posted by Sarah McBroden at 9:33 am

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