back to random acts

including "Love By The Butterdish" Photo-Romance!

(out of Blu-Tac)

I have the technology. With the development of computer gyrosystems that can work at 3 million revolutions per second - that’s faster than a human being can see things that actually happened last week - it has become possible for me to feed pictures of women into my computer and make them a reality. But not using the messy flesh that makes us so prone to disease. Rather, I use Blu-Tack, which is the only pure element not to openly appear on the Periodic Table - it appears on the back of them, a little blob in each corner. Oh, I am only joking! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

Those of you who have been following science keenly for the last fifteen years or so, you will know that women have been coming out of computers since “Weird Science”. But that took ages, and things went wrong, albeit with hilarious consequences. My blu-tack  women (yes, I have many) do not offer sensible advice, do not need a plot, are utterly non-toxic even if you put a tiny tampon up them and leave it there for a year, and have an ineffable smurfy charm that leaves an invaluable greasy patch after some time.

And what’s more, they’re finished in less than an hour.
That’s as fast as Ted Rogers doing that 3-2-1 thing with his fingers - only faster!

But my cheeky girls get up to no good when they think I am not looking! It is lucky that I am single minded in my observations, and the only time I ever leave them to it is so that I can return after a changeable but well-planned time, to peep at them doing it, and poke them with matchsticks in an encouraging fashion. Here is the result of a rewarding Sunday's peep...

Ready your socks to be blasted by

One day, a green Fimo lady decided to have a lie down. It had been a long day - she had been shopping, to the hairdresser, and lost all of her clothes when they were snagged on a fork.

The Fimo lady was surprised to see her good friend Simon masturbating himself into the air. She called him over and asked him if he wanted to masturbate over her legs.

Simon hurried over - he too had had an enormously fatiguing afternoon. His position as security guard in a long-disused asylum was under threat, after he had been found downloading questionable pornography, without even using the internet. 

"Thank you", said Simon.

"That's quite alright," replied the green Fimo lady, whose name was Jane. "It can become lonely, here by the butterdish. I am glad of the company."

"I understand," nodded Simon, and started to whap his willy over her boobs. 

"Careful!" warned Jane. In his eagerness to bring himself off, Simon had touched Jane's new hairdo, and green Fimo women are very proud of their hair.

"Your hair's so pretty. It reminds me of a hot pancake, all steamy and fresh."

"Thank you," giggled Jane. "You can touch it if you want, I suppose. It only cost two pounds, because my coiffeur is an ant."

Oh, dear! Simon has fallen off, and his leg has become attached to his back! As Simon rolls around on the floor, Jane realises that he is thoroughly drunk. She begins to think that she has made a mistake, inviting a drunk to masturbate on her boobs.

However, Jane has an idea - if she were to get as drunk as Simon, then everything would be fine! She opens a bottle of Tia Maria, which is what gets green Fimo ladies drunk. 

By now, Simon's willy has become quite stuck to his chest, so when he does ejaculate it is all over his own face. Jane, however, simply laughs and laughs, until a little bubble of snot appears under her nose, which she sniffs back up noisily.

Of course, she had to go back to the hairdresser the next day, but Jane didn't mind. She liked spending time by the butterdish. 

Young hearts, run free, never be foolish, foolish like my guy and me...