Thursday, June 30, 2005

Fuck it



This is making me very happy today.

Dues (not about Nadine and Fluffy)

Soundtrack: Rod Stewart / Maggie May

I've been open about my past on here. Also, I deleted a lot of it. 'Cause.

A while ago I told the story of how I had two full time girlfriends over a period of one and a half years. I'm not proud, though people have often shaken their heads in amazement as to just how the fuck I managed to do it. Was, surprisingly, and disgustingly simple to be honest.

One of them was my last girlfriend. I was with her for four and a half years, let's call her X. About a year and a half into that relationship, I bumped into my first ever girlfriend who I had not seen for 8 years and immediately sparks flew as though we had never parted. I was a bounder and a cad and was unable to muster the willpower to sort myself out, falling into a relationship with her as well without thinking, and without being able to be honest to either of them.

My friends never pushed me, though most people were aware of what was happening and of course, disapproving. But I was in a crazy phase and just kept at it.

It's so fucking strange looking back at that time. Thinking about who the fuck I was.

X must've known. She must've. And yet never a peep out of her. Only once did she ask me one night, "Who is Shannon?" and I mumbled something stupid and held her close and we fell asleep in each other's arms and I was able to push back all my guilt, losing my one good chance of just spilling everything and being fucking OPEN.

In the end, I finally broke it off with Shannon and thought I was going to give X a real shot. She is wonderful, wonderful wonderful. I've written about her, in one of the posts I've deleted, but take my word for it, a softer more pure fucking girl you have never met. And I've met all of you and you're all fucking AMAZING, but this little girl...Ugh.

So I've been parted from her for a year, maybe a little more, about a year.

Last night I was at the pub with Dangerous and she walked in, sat down beside me and it all flooded out of her.

She knew along, she could never tell me because she loved me, she was so fucking angry at me.

I couldn't speak. In a strange way I was so proud of her for finally telling me all this. Weird huh?

She left after that. I hope she got something, some strength, something...

I left too, a bit dazed, a bit hang dog shameful.

And then...just to prove a fucking point of how goddamn GOOD and fucking NICE and shit cock tits LOVING this fucking chick is, she rang me to see if I WAS OK.

Whatthefuck.

Whitey. I salute you.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx








*inserts some funny words here just to lighten the mood*

Omar

x

Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Punning is the new Universal Language

Soundtrack: The Smiths / Meat is Murder

Well, I got the photos back but really there's just far too many of either my cock or someone elses privates to put up here.

They are up somewhere on the internet. Let's see how good you are at stalking.

Anyway, as I am busy being a beaver, gnaaw not reeally, I'll just share with you Oh Lovers of Puns the very first thing that greeted us when we walked out the door of Nadi Airport.

I knew we were in the right place...






Oh joy.


Omar.

x

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

I woke up and it was all a dream...

Soundtrack: Thin Lizzy / Boys Are Back In Town

Would you like me to tell you it was a disaster? Would that make you happy? Would you like me to say that I wish we had never gone, the place was digusting, it rained the whole time, the company was horrible, I am bitter and angry and in hate with the world in general?

Hmmm. I'm not big on lying.

We held hands as we snorkeled and from the left, along the ocean floor swam a giant turtle. We followed it for a few minutes, watching it cruise majestically along until staring at each other underwater, both in awe at what we had just witnessed, we smiled and swam back to shore to gasp in wonder and polish off another bottle of Mumm Champagne.

We ate lobster and cheese alone on our own tiny island, on the edge of a coral reef in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, naked conquerors, exploring an island not 50ft wide in either direction. It was known as Nookie Island. Not without good cause.

We ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate...and somehow...lost weight. Three courses every meal, on the beach, in our hut, on top of a cliff over looking a beach so perfect it simply should not exist in a world this far gone.

We made friends, a real friendship, with a Billionaire who is currently making his own resort not far from where we stayed. It will be finished next March and on the waiting list to stay there is Madonna, Harrison Ford...and now...us.

There is more, so much more, but I am still a little speechless...wordless...Fiji Time has not yet loosened its grip on me, nor do I want it to.

Photos soon.

Hi.

Omar.

x

Thursday, June 16, 2005

It's Good To Be The King

Soundtrack: Radiohead / Lucky

Being that I am not ALLOWED to blog about last night as it has been BAGSSED by another, pfft, I shall instead take this opportunity as my last to blog before FUCKING OFF TO FIJI FOR TEN DAYS.

(suffice to say last night involved the largest Veal Parmigiana EVER, the most disgusting Tequila ever served at any bar anywhere in the world, I dubbed it Methcal. Three skanky strippers and a table of both world famous rockstars and a glittering pack of people that sound kind of like a pasta. Yes, some bloggerati. Stupid fucking word that it is...)

So, let's move on shall we?


On Sunday Night myself and my travelling companion get all high falutin' and jetset of to WARM, SUNNY, FIJI. Considering that I'm currently typing in gloves and shooting icicle boogers out of my nose, you could say that I'm a little bit excited about it.

Werd.

We will stay in a Villa like this:



We will sit and enjoy our mutual love of the written word, reading books here:




If our mutual gangbang fantasies arise, we have but to call...




If our mutual, let's just fuck somewhere beautiful as we look over an amazing view from on top of a mountain fantasy arises, I believe we could fuck here..




At night, if we choose, we can join the Captain's Table Style public dining area and make fascinating conversation with people from all walks of life here:




I dare say there will be bankers, world travellers, playboys, and two skanky as fuck, pasty white Melbourne Trashbags with a penchant for dirty sex. Which one are we?

Here is a random picture of food with no need for witty commentary.




If my companion does not wish to recreate the sex scene from From Here To Eternity with me in a situation like this:




I will simply evoke the Rape Fantasy Charter, Section 7Z.

And finally....



















well, you never know your luck...


Enjoy monkeys. I will be thinking of you all.

Not.

Omar Sheriff BB

x

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

True Grit

Soundtrack: QOTSA / The Blood Is Love


open up your mouth

touch your lips to mine

that we may make a kiss that can pierce through death & survive

your words have branded my mind

still i hold your hand

wrapped as if a ring

we of flesh & blood are only carrying

it's so hard to

well, you know


You want one of those ones? One of those scream at the world, hold your head up high as your fucking bitterness rolls down your cheeks but you grit your teeth and smile and laugh and love posts?

Posts where you bare your soul to cunts you know read this blog and you don't care and you get it all out and the music keeps you going and the angst you feel is doubled, tripled because you've been asked to give up smoking and that's a fucking GIGANTIC crutch. It's a fucking work of art a giant wooden crutch in the middle of a country field and if your hands are just busy then nothing else worms it's fucking way in and you are the freaking Marlboro Man, just for a second, and you want that fucking sickness, because you. are. tough.

Yeah.

So as you're aching, fucking screaming, here come the words because the hands and words are one and that way all you are is a fucking stream of consciousness and a set of ears, and these words, and this music all point directly to that fucked up moral rollercoaster of a heart baby. And it keeps it all together. Just. Just. Just.

And words are just that. Fucking words. But right now, right now they're a whole lot more, they're a glue, a binding agent, and they're fucking setting me free.

You want one o' them posts?

Not today.

BB

x

Where the sun don't shine

Soundtrack: R.E.M. / Everybody Hurts

Fear not, it's not a sensitive post...

Well actually, it depends on what you mean by...sensitive.

I've worked in media for about seven fucking years now and as such have always been involved somehow in that Pillar of Hell, the Advertising Industry. To be honest, it interests me not at all, but I gots to do what I gots to do. Dig?

Dug.

Anyhoo, though perhaps not exactly Soul Food, it does have it's Satanic Charm. Especially when done correctly.

Basically, I can appreciate good copy.

And a good brand.

Which is why I can appreciate the subtlety of.....















FIST LUBRICANT.

It just screams Good Times doesn't it? Fist Lubricant also comes with a pair of disposable gloves, just so, you know, you don't get YOUR ARM COVERED IN SHIT WHEN YOU'RE FISTING YOUR MAN UP HIS POOPOO HOLE. Not that there's anything wrong with that of course. Last time I was fisting a boy I found an old tennis racquet up there. I'd thought I'd lost it! Funny times...



Fist also comes in a tub. As do I if you rub me the right way, although for some reason it's harder to make a boy cum underwater don't you find? Interesting factoid #4476.

The strange part is that Fist is brought to you by Mister B. That's me!

www.misterb.com...hey Booky! Where have you gone? Come back!

That is all.

BB

x

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

In the beginning...

Soundtrack: Kyuss / Damned for all time

Greetings.

It is time to spread the message.

Fundamentalist Religious types would have you believe they hold the key to your salvation.

However, their ideal of Heaven seems to involve a lot of blowing things up, torturing people and generally being extremely intolerant of anyone who lacks the decency to agree with their views.

This is what led me to Hell. And now, I open it for business.

Hell does not judge you on your choice of religion, be it virgin sacrificing (ah the memories...) or drinking the blood of a still kicking Rooster. We like them all! They make us laugh with their mumbo hoodoo whatcha gonna doodoo. Silly monkeys...

Neither does Hell judge you on your sexual practices. Believe me, you'd have to do something pretty DAMN shocking to get my attention. Do you know I once went to a brothel and rang my girlfriend while I was fucking the hooker and I had to say things like, now she's sucking my cock baby, and hang on baby it's kind of difficult to pound her from behind whilst hanging from the shower curtain and also trying to keep this goddamn phone to my ear. Just before I came, my phone battery died. It was nice.

Have I told you that before? Well, eternity does things to one's memory, so forgive me. For I have sinned. Ba-boom.

So you get the picture right? In the end, it is HELL that offers more forgiveness, more tolerance and more acceptance. I guess it's just that Hell suffers from an image problem.

Mental note: Have a friendly chat with the boys from marketing.

Peace my tortured souls. You are all welcome.

BB

x

Sunday, June 5, 2005

Mohican

Soundtrack: Radiohead / Creep

My ex girlfirend and one time love of my life Shannon Lee and I had a very special relationship. It basically revolved around us having sex anywhere, anytime at the drop of a hat. She is without a doubt the only girl I have ever met who could even come close to keeping up with my bizarro-world fucked up overly volcanic need to fuck ALL THE TIME.

We met when she was 16 and I was 21. I was managing Bentleigh Nando's Chickenland dressed as a chicken and she was cooking burgers out the back in the kitchen. One afternoon I simply asked if she wouldn't mind if I got changed right there rather than having to walk around to the toilets. She didn't mind. I stripped out of the ridiculous fucking feather fest I was in and stood naked in front of her a pale skinny just-post-pubescent lad. She put her spatula down and pushed me against the wall as I stripped her down and we went into the cool room to fuck amongst the chicken carcasses. Romantic huh? Neither the chicken nor the egg came first, we both did at the same time.

She was still living at home at that point but being that it was with her mother and her two sisters and all of them were just as fucking crazy they never seemed to mind the two of us rutting all over the house all the time. It's strange to think about that time now, so fucking far away, but I remember vividly the first shower we had together and the way the water beaded all over her and her hair was slicked back and her beautiful fucking smile just killed me and I remember all I thought was...I'm naked in a shower with a gorgeous fucking girl......damn I want to fuck her. And I did. Heh.

Trains, parks, at her school, my house, her house, on a mountain, in a restaurant...I can't tell you, I can't fucking remember all the places, all the times we were busted but when you stare directly into someone like that everything else disappears. It's not so much exhibitionism as the pure fact that NOTHING else exists for that moment. It's hot. I dig it. Werd.

Eventually, the by now 18 year old girl had begun to realise that there was a shit load more to life than just constantly fucking me. Well, I'm not saying she was RIGHT. Bugger. But at 18 of course she began to slowly drift away and I began to go a little loco, my first love was on the line and of course I did as all stupid romantics do, wrote letters, sung songs, travelled for miles just to walk in a strange town and "accidentally" cross her path, what are you doing here?

There's a fine line between romance and being a fucking stalker.

I don't know why I'm writing about Shan, it's her birthday soon I guess and this year will be the first year since 1992 that I will not send her a card as she is overseas and I'm not exactly sure where. She came back into my life a few years ago after a seperation of about 6 or 7 years and when we looked at each other it was as though no time had passed at all.

I hope she googles herself.

In fact I have a photo somewhere of her doing just that.