Monday, December 12, 2005



Why my Drug Dealer Freaks Me Out...

My drug dealer really is the nicest Drug Dealer in the world. He has ridden his bicycle 30km in the pouring rain just to give me one pill at 7 in the morning without me having to pay. And other stuff...But still, we all have our dark side...

Recently I texted him something about fixing him up some cash I owed him.

This is the response...his spelling...

Thanks it would help, but you are much loved on this side of the coin my friend, and if I was a chic for a day I'd be one of those sexysuicide dominatrix type chics, i'd be in pvc high shiny boots, a very tight leather corset with a very purple ribbon pulling it together just enough to squash my very tanned puppies up almost to the point that their popping out - you can just see my areolas are exposed but as you look down at my crotch you notice a very large very life like black vainy strap on cock and you are in my motel room after you meet me backstage at the after party for the queens of the stone age (that were playing to a private gig at a party for shock records) and after a lot of substance abuse and jager i take you back to my hote room and tie your arms and legs face down on the bed and with that black cock (which you might not have noticed at the party under my dress because it was duck taped to my leg and as i remove the tape the strap on comes alive sticking out like a big black pudding and as i splash virgin olive oil all over your back and cheeks i tell you it's scented oils but i'd run out in the first two hours of having to be in the the body of a fucking horny slut kitten. And you don't know any of this because your down in the pillow and you squeal when i touch you on your wet date and you scream when you feel your ass dylate as this huge oiled up strap on gets you by surprise but after a few slow jabs you warm to it and start rearing back, you kept this up till you had the whole lot up your ass you came and you paid me and said you'd call me again when you were in town.

Fucking Jesus Christ...How about those riots then hey????


  1. Holy fuck!

    Make the bad people stop talking mummy.....


  2. Ha! Reading those text messages was a tear-inducing "live" but fuck me dead, re-reading it all still does it for me. I need to meet B----, I need to meet him immediately. He is a god of inappropriate messaging.

  3. hey i have blog now,

  4. woah, you must a very special kind of chappie to inspire transvestite, strap-on love fantasies in your dealer.

    and all in one sms?

    do you think he used predictive text?

  5. Is there gonna be a 'no walking stright' club for people who aint square by xmas? err...

    *runs off to the atm*

  6. *sounds of frantic running*