I was kind of bored tonight (everyone bailed on my idea of a boozy Thursday night at the Royal George, cunts. How can you go wrong with two-for-one drinks!) so I whipped out the tape measure. I measured it at eleven inches, go me!

*waits for hushed awe and miscellaneous "ooh"ing noises*

Okay, I'm pretty sure no one bought that, and if they did, well, how cute! Whilst my boyish good looks may present a prepubescent appearance, I haven't reverted back to a fourteen year old's mentality where one's penis must be measured on a daily basis (and to a lesser extent the measurement of the distance between the Jap's eye and the spooge landing zone of the cumshot). And really, would I want an eleven inch dick? Get real. We have cable now, and really, the only thing it's good for is downloading mp3s and porn. Seeing as I already downloaded a few choice Ice Cube numbers, I thought it would be a good idea to see what faggot-porn movies were on offer. Big mistake. I somehow ended up with this one of this guy getting his dick sucked. Sounds pretty mild, but dudes, not only was his face Ian Thorpe-esque, but his cock was MASSIVE. And the guy servicing him totally deepthroated him down. In the best of times, deepthroating sends me into a fit of gagging and eyerolling, but in this particular scene the unfortunate homo who was forced to chow down on the slick man-pole snorted down gulps of air through his nose as he slid his lips down the shaft, making a series of most unsavoury noises. Sort of like when Homer is sent to Hell, and he is forced to eat donuts. A sort of chomping, inhaling, snorting noise. Gag. And he did it like, three times. Fags are so gross. And hello, deepthroating does nothing. So I wouldn't really care if I had an eleven inch dick, as most of it would be going to waste. And really, if you had an eleven inch dick and could find an arsehole or mouth which could, ahem, sheathe the entire shaft I'd be pretty worried. For that four seconds of impressed-ness, you are rewarded with a lifetime of HIV+ status.

Did I have a point? Oh, measuring myself. No, friends, tonight I measured my bicep, and the very unimpressive 11" was the result. How embarrassing! Even my estranged, retarded cousins from Sydney would have bigger biceps than that. And they're nine. Although I think they stay at home during the day with Bad Touch Uncle, so I guess their arms get a bit of a workout trying to push him away.

The good news is I've put on a kilo since being back in Australia. This is after a hardcore week of carb loading (which sounds impressive and body builder-esque, but it's really me being a fatass on the couch and eating Twisties. Did you know they made Cheezel-esque Twisties now?!). I probably should do a proper muscle building routine. Meh, I'll work that one out later. I can't face the idea of joining a gym and talking to perky smiley people about a fitness plan. Currently I'm quite happy to work on my tan. I was pretty English-white when I got back, so I've burnt a lot, but that's tanning quite well, and my sexy tan line is back in action, huzzah! The homos last weekend were trying to tell me that the no-tanline look is best. They all go to nude beaches on the Sunshine Coast and strip off in the dunes. But these guys do speed out of a pipe and drink Chambord so I don't think they've progressed much from the 80s. Communal nude sunbaking? Spare me. They don't even have sex, and are repelled by the idea. So, like, what's the point? Not that I'd do it, mind you, but if I'm going to get naked in front of someone I'm damn well going to stick my dick up their arse.

Homos are weird, y'all.

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posted by Dawei at 12:05 am