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The Mighty Boosh

Wed, 20 Dec 2006 11:03:36 GMT

I was watching the British Comedy Awards for this un-funny year of our Lord 2006 recently. Hosted by Johnathan Woss it's usually pretty good. This year was no exception, mainly because they lost control of a 30 foot python on stage. The thing tried to wrap around its keeper and then menaced the crowd. All very good fun.

What struck me, however, was the general crapness of the shows being given awards. For fuck sake, Charlotte Church was nominated (and won), best new comedy lass or something. There's something very wrong about the Welsh being given awards. Catherine Tate won something, but she's not funny any more. Little Britain (which hasn't been remotely amusing since the first series), got best comedy again, over my personal favourite show The Mighty Boosh (more on those fellows later). Curb Your Enthusiasm won best International Comedy. I saw that once. Utter shite. I've seen very few American comedy shows that are genuinely funny, apart from Fox News. That shit is hilarious.

It's a shame really. For a country that has been such a historically funny nation and come up with some really cracking comedy shows, 2006 was a pretty shitty year for us. I'd taken to wathcing League of Gentlemen, Chewin' the Fat and Smack the Pony on DVD until I heard of a new-ish show. A mighty show. The Mighty Boosh.

This is a show so bizarre and funny that I've now watched the only 2 series of it twice in a week. I don't own the live show DVD they have but I saw it once and it's worth it for the Rabbit Rape and the Russian Theatre scenes alone.

Some quotes:

Vince Noir: [Vince and Howard are driving in a van. Vince holds up a cassette tape] This is the best of the sixties.
Vince Noir: [holds up another cassette] And this is the best of the seventies.
Vince Noir: [lifts a huge stack of cassettes] And this is Gary Numan.
Howard Moon: Eh, no. No way. I'm not having that. Absolutely not, I'm drawing a line on that. That's it.
Vince Noir: What? Why?
Howard Moon: I'm driving, it's my music we're having.
Vince Noir: Not Jazz!
Howard Moon: [lifts cassette] No. This my friend is Jazz Funk.
Vince Noir: Oh. The double? That's even worse!
Howard Moon: The mixture. The cerebral musicality of Jazz mixed with the visceral groove of funk.
Vince Noir: Funk?
Howard Moon: Imagine that.
Vince Noir: Funk?
Howard Moon: What a combo.
Vince Noir: Jazz' deformed cousin!

===============================================

Vince Noir: C'mon, Bollo, get your monkey anus at the steering wheel.
Bollo: Bollo no drive.
Vince Noir: You're joking. Why not?
Bollo: Bollo lose license.
Naboo: When did that happen?
Bollo: Long time ago. It was Chiko. As teenager we would drive about town together. My father warn us. No drive too fast for there are speed camera on A49 but Chiko crazy. He dangerous. He always say "Please, Bollo. Please let us go faster."
Vince Noir: Yeah, yeah so you chopped his head off right?
Bollo: No, I chopped his feet off. Stopped him pressing accelerator.

===============================================

Howard Moon: I'm an explorer.
Vince Noir: I thought you were a writer?
Howard Moon: I do many things. I span the genres - they call me the genre spanner.
Vince Noir: Yeah, they call you the spanner...

===============================================

[Howard and Vince have a meeting with a record executive]
Vince Noir: You better start getting the magic potions out, Mowgli, or we're gonna hurt you.
Naboo: All right, hang on.
[he hands them each a glass of yellow liquid]
Naboo: This is Liquid Music.
Howard Moon: What's in it?
Naboo: The tears of Mozart...
[they both drink it down]
Naboo: ...mixed with the urine of Mark Knopfler.
[Howard and Vince make a face]
Howard Moon: How long does it last?
Naboo: Three hours. Quick, you better hurry!
[they leave fast]
Bollo: Truly, Master, you are a wise man. Do you think they will succeed?
Naboo: Don't think so - that was Lucozade.

===============================================

Howard Moon: I don't accessorize. I'm Howard Moon. There's a simple truth to me.

===============================================

Howard Moon: Vince, you've gone wrong.
Vince Noir: I am the Chosen One. I have the amulet.
Howard Moon: Yeah, well maybe it's time I had the amulet for a bit.
Vince Noir: You don't accessorise. There's a simple truth to you.
Howard Moon: Give me the amulet, you bitch!

===============================================

The Hitcher: Aagh! It hurts! It burns! You've liquified me, you slags!

===============================================

Old Gregg: What do you think of me?
Howard Moon: I don't rightly know, Sir.
Old Gregg: Make an assessment.

===============================================

Howard Moon: Where did you get those sunglasses from?
Vince Noir: A passing Coyote took pity on me.
Howard Moon: Took pity on you did he? He took a piss on me!
Vince Noir: I think in his own simple way he was trying to cool you down.

===============================================

Lead Shaman: Tony has a gift for strategy.
Saboo: A gift for strategy?
Tony Harrison: That's right. I'm a unique thinker.
Saboo: Right, let us hear one of Tony Harrison's strategies
Lead Shaman: Come on, Tony, don't let me down.
Tony Harrison: I say we, move, er, with haste, we retrieve that book, we fetch it back
[pause]
Tony Harrison: in a bag,
[pause]
Tony Harrison: quite quickly.
Lead Shaman: Oh, dear.
Tony Harrison: Just give me five minutes, I can come up with something else. I only need pen and paper, and someone to
[pause]
Tony Harrison: write down my ideas.
Saboo: [to Tony] You are a knob.

===============================================

Vince Noir: Goth Juice... The most powerful hairspray known to man. Made from the tears of Robert Smith.

===============================================

Vince Noir: Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard?
Howard Moon: This better be good.
Vince Noir: You know the black bits in bananas, are they tarantulas' eggs?
Howard Moon: Please don't speak to me ever again in your life.

===============================================

[wolves howl]
Vince Noir: What was that?
Howard Moon: Owls.
Vince Noir: What, pretending to be wolves?
Howard Moon: They're very good mimics.
Vince Noir: What?
Howard Moon: Look, don't worry about wolves, ok? I know how to deal with them. If a wolf approches, you simply punch it on the nose.
Vince Noir: That's sharks, innit!
Howard Moon: Works for any animal.

===============================================

Vince Noir: You haven't seen my mate Howard, have you? Kinda tall, scruffy hair, small eyes like a crab?

===============================================

Vince Noir: Seriously though, you should check out my icey wardrobe.
Howard Moon: What, the human Coke can?
Vince Noir: This is the glam rock ski suit!
Howard Moon: The arctic has no respect for fashion, Vince. You know, never take the tundra lightly. It can drive a man insane. You know what it is about this place, that gets people mad?
Vince Noir: Not really.
Howard Moon: Have a look through there, what do you see?
Vince Noir: [looks through binoculars] Nothing.
Howard Moon: Exactly. It's the nothingness... the whiteness... the endless... ness. Stretching on beyond the human imagination. Desolation of the soul. Oh my Gooooooooooood!
[raps]
Howard Moon: Ice flow, nowhere to go / Ice flow, nowhere to go / Lost in the blinding whiteness of the tundraaaaaa / Check him out.
[Vince dances]
Howard Moon: They call him the shrew! Arms in short, then with the claw!
Vince Noir: I'm little Johnny Frostbite, moving around / Freezing you up, freezing you down / Like an icicle / Coming in your tent in the pink light, scissorbite/
Vince Noir, Howard Moon: Arctic death!
Vince Noir: Infinite night!
Howard Moon: Call me Tundra Boy / Cause I move like an arctic
Vince Noir, Howard Moon: Lizard!
Howard Moon: When the blizzard strikes / I disappear like a pipe dream
Vince Noir, Howard Moon: All that's left is the gleam!
Howard Moon: On a tent peg
Vince Noir, Howard Moon: Boosh, Boosh / Stronger than a moose / Don't lock your door or we'll come through your rooftop / Stop, look around, take your mind off the flow / Cause the Boosh is loose / And we're a little bit raaaaw! /Ice flow, nowhere to go / Ice flow, nowhere to go / Lost in the blinding whiteness of the tundraaaa!
Howard Moon: ...yeah?
Vince Noir: All right! Proved your point, in song format!
Howard Moon: Yeah, well maybe you'll take this place a bit more seriously now.

===============================================

The Moon: When you are the moon, there is a person people say is the sun. I saw the sun once, and he came past me, really fast. And it was an, it was called, the, an eclipse. And he came fast! But as he came past, I, I licked his back.
[sticks out tongue]
The Moon: And he doesn't know I licked his back! All in his yellow suit!... I'm the moon.

===============================================

Vince Noir: C'mon, Howard, let's get out of here.
Howard Moon: Stop tugging at my mink!
Vince Noir: Mink? That's a bit off, isn't it? You're supposed to be a zookeeper.
Howard Moon: Yeah, well, it's a different law in the tundra, Vince. It's kill or be killed.
Vince Noir: What, by a mink?
Howard Moon: They get very big out here.
[gesturing at floor-length mink coat]
Howard Moon: This whole thing is just one mink.
Vince Noir: That's not right. I know, I read a pamphlet.
Howard Moon: So? I once glanced at a hedge. What's your point?
Vince Noir: No, it was a mink pamphlet. "Minky Monthly". There were millions of them on the front, dancing around. It said that it takes about ninety mink just to make a small ladies glove.
Howard Moon: That's 'cause they're really crap at sewing.

===============================================

Howard Moon: The wind is my only friend.
Wind: [whistling] I hate you.

===============================================

Howard Moon: I want to be the greatest Jazz player in Yorkshire.
The Spirit of Jazz: Yorkshire? What is Yorkshire?
Howard Moon: Yorkshire is a place. Yorkshire is a state of mind.

===============================================

The Spirit of Jazz: Ow! My hat's on fire! What's wrong with you? You blind? Why didn't ya tell me?
Howard Moon: Sorry, I thought that was your look

===============================================

The Spirit of Jazz: I'm gonna creep inside you like a warm kitten!

===============================================

Kodiak Jack: Have you ever had a mountain goat grab you by the scrotum and run away with it and then sell it on ebay a day later?
Howard Moon: Err, no.
Kodiak Jack: You ever been Rohypnoled by a swan, woke up in Cancun?
Howard Moon: No.
Kodiak Jack: Ever been to a tea party with a herd of rhino? Well, I have! And it ain't purty!
Howard Moon: Right.

===============================================

And that, my friends, is magic.

Chillis: A Revenge Story

Mon, 27 Nov 2006 14:37:49 GMT

Having recovered from my shock and horror, and having ordered a far more palatable Dominos pizza, I ignored most of Poots' suggestions and plotted revenge my own way, sorry dude, but thanks!

I've taken revenge on people in the past, with many glorious outcomes, but that was on my American friends, who, for the most part are retarded and fall for tricks way too easily.

For instance, having had a fairly brutal fight that left me needing facial stitches (over a game of fucking Mario Kart) I decided to hurt my friend, Ben, where it would hurt the most. No, I didn't cut his dick off, I merely destroyed his car. Or that's what he thought. Getting another friend, James, in on the game was a major part of the operation. James worked in a scrap yard and he only had three fingers on one hand and he was pretty much one insane motherfucker. Anyway, I bought a completely knackered car off him for $50 and for a further $20 he drove it to the parking lot outside our school. While Ben was busy learning how to do cross-stitch or some other gayness, I had James replace his cool, but old Mercedes, with my newly acquired wreck and tow the other car away. The wreck was nothing like the shape of the Mercedes but the look on poor Bens face when he saw what he thought was his asploded car was priceless. For some reason, I forget why now, I'd also put a couple of pigeons inside an upturned box on the roof of the wreck. When he overturned the box, they flew at him all angrily and shit and I'm pretty sure one pecked him. Fuck knows what I was thinking about when I came up with that one.

When I 'fessed to Ben he was well fucked off, but eventually saw the funny side.

Anyway, that's just a general frame of reference for my mind-set when serving cold dishes.

This wasn't such an easy thing to pull off. For one, I only had Saturday and Sunday to complete the task in hand, and for two I knew that if I left it much longer than that, I'd be likely to forget to do anything. Also, not having any accomplished wing-men available to me meant flying solo, a tricky scenario.

Sunday morning dawned painfully through the haze of the previous night spent drinking Turbo-Diesels (a lethal combination involving Special Brew and Frosty Jack, topped with black currant, to taste). As I struggled to piss in a straight line an idea dawned on me.

Have any of you ever seen a movie called 'The Descent'? Probably not, but just so you know there are these freaky beasties that basically fuck up a whole lot of female cave-explorer types. These beasties, conveniently for me, scare the living piss out of my girlfriend, and aren't too hard an illusion to create. They also make a strange clicking noise, not unlike the one in Alien, which I already had down pat. All I needed to complete my costume of terror was one of those bald mask thingies, some paint and some flour. (Oh how I wish I'd had the presence of mind to take pictures!)

I waited until she had gone to bed that Sunday evening, and waited longer still until she was snoring like a really loud pneumatic drill, the kind you only hear at 6 AM. Time to get suited up. I pulled on a wet-suit I keep lying around for such occasions and proceeded to splash myself with water, before coating myself in flour. I pulled the bald mask on, and painted my face white. Looking in the mirror I looked how I imagine Michael Jackson looks when nude. I thought about not doing the clicking, weird motion thing of the creatures, because MJ in the buff, in your room at night, is a terrifying thought just by itself. No, I thought, I don't want to be associated with that fucking pederast, shut the fuck up Donny you stupid sub-conscious son of a bitch!

I practiced mooching about the living room for a while, mooching like the evil cave dwelling bastards I was trying to emulate, kind of like a disjointed, four legged spider. Then I got a bit bored and played GTA San Andreas for about an hour before I decided, at 3.30 AM that the time was ripe!

I slunk through to the bedroom and managed to position myself so that my face was right next to her ear and I started clicking away, a combination between a terrifying monster, and an albino African. I started moving slowly, sort of crawling over her a little and nudging her so that she would wake up, see my hideous visage and weep with terror. Wake up she did, with such horrifying force that she flung me straight against the opposite wall, causing me to bash my head and howl with pain.

She got up to see what all the noise was about, looked at my prone figure, and said,

"You are so fucking retarded Andy."

Fucking women.

I Hate Fucking Chillis

Fri, 24 Nov 2006 15:19:01 GMT

Call me a pussy, call me a faggot, call me whatever you want, but I'm firmly rooted in my belief that overly spicy food is fucking atrocious. It also scares me a little as I'm violently allergic to jalapenos. I'm all for a litte bit of zest, you understand, but when I feel like I'm consuming brimstone for dinner, I'm not a happy man.

Last night, was a good example.

I came in from the pub, with my woman and a friend, with all the fixings for some tasty tortilla wraps. Actually, they can hardly be qualified as wraps since they usually fall apart, un-wraps would be a better name for them. Incidentally, how in the fuck do Mexicans keep their burritos stuck together? Glue? Whatever. Me and the friend, Glen, went and sat down in the living room to watch football, even though he's gay and hates it Newcastle were playing, and I could kick fuck out of him so he wasn't exactly fighting me for the remote. This left my girlfriend, Rommily, a normally excellent cook in the kitchen, sweating over some pans.

She was under strict instructions from me not to put too many chillis in the mix of chicken, peppers, because she has a tendency to over-egg it. The conversation went something like this,

'Rommily, if you put too many chillis in my fucking dinner again I will boot you up the arse so hard you'll thing that Patrick Swayze is giving you a rectal fisting. Alright?'

'Yes dear.'

'Damn straight.'

I'm not normally that much of a dickhead, but the last time we ate something she cooked with chilli, I felt like I had a miniature Chernobyl crisis in my mouth, and in my ass the next day.

I stumbled back through to the living room to resume my viewing and heckling of Glens' complete and utter lack of footballing knowledge, and cracked open a bottle of Buckfast to enjoy. They're talking about banning Buckfast, which would take away roughly 1/3rd of Scotland's national identity. I felt so strongly on the matter I personally wrote to the only good man in politics I could think of, Tommy Sheridan, about my concerns; I have recieved no reply to date, perhaps beginning my letter

'Awright Big Man? Top shagger you by the way pal!' was not the best way to start.

Around the 70th minute of the match, the food was ready, and Rommily brought it through. I was well on my way to getting ripped to the tits on tramp-juice and needed some food to soak up the alcomahol. I bit eagerly into my un-wrap and savoured the gently spiced meat within.

That's what should have happened. Instead, probably because of my Swayze comments I bit into a tortilla wrap filled with nothing but chilli and onions. My girlfriend can be a total fucknig bastard sometimes. Such was my shock, I swallowed hard and filled my stomach with fire. Deeply shocked and upset I merely threw my un-wrap at her face and left it at that. I've yet to think of an appropriate revenge.

On a side, but still related, note, I was in Glasgow recently and drank one of those 'Chilli Beers', fuck me they're spicy. Finished it though, and only cried once!

I may be in too deep!

Mon, 06 Nov 2006 17:56:28 GMT

I'm actually getting a little worried now. HELP!

TheRust says:

hey there baby

TheRust says:

???

Beanie says:

hiyaa, sorry i'm in the library, really slow connection!

TheRust says:

oohhhhh

TheRust says:

guess you cant do anything with me then huh/

TheRust says:

???

TheRust says:

you got more pics now?

Beanie says:

not on this computer

TheRust says:

I dont suppose you can do anything sexual either

Beanie says:

again, not really on this computer.

TheRust says:

wanna have phone sex later?

Beanie says:

i'm pretty busy for most of today

TheRust says:

maybe tomorrow?

Beanie says:

yeah maybe.

TheRust says:

what time?

Beanie says:

dunno, it's hard to tell when i'll be free.

TheRust says:

yeah I guess

TheRust says:

guess we'll have to set it up another time

TheRust says:

cause I've only done it like twice and it wasnt that exciting

TheRust says:

but Im willing to bet you're good

Beanie says:

oh really?

TheRust says:

well yeah

TheRust says:

you're the best I've every cybered with

Beanie says:

that's very kind

TheRust says:

its very true too

TheRust says:

I so wanna just finger u until you fall back against the wall and stick my cock inside u

Beanie says:

whoah i just read that, cheeky!

Rusty Seems to be Pining!

Thu, 12 Oct 2006 15:56:28 GMT

therust111@hotmail.com
hi

Beanie
hi.

therust111@hotmail.com
sup?

» you still want me as your slave?

Beanie
you're never online though.

therust111@hotmail.com
Im online a lot

» just not when you are

» I have an hour now

» hello?
16:50 TheRust went away
16:50 TheRust went idle
16:51 TheRust came back
16:51 TheRust became active

therust111@hotmail.com
you just going to ignore me now?

» you know you want to

therust111@hotmail.com

17:13 TheRust disconnected
17:14 TheRust connected

therust111@hotmail.com
hello Im back

» why are you ignoring me

» you'd consider it rude bitch

therust111@hotmail.com
you fucking bitch

therust111@hotmail.com
I hate you bitch

Beanie
get fucked.

therust111@hotmail.com
I did last night and this morning bitch

» why are you ignoring me?

Beanie
ooohhhhh wow, i'm seriously fucking impressed. oddly enough, I don't have to be at the beck and call of messenger.

therust111@hotmail.com
at the beck/

Beanie
beck and call: demand.

therust111@hotmail.com
no clue what you're talking about

Beanie
basic english.

therust111@hotmail.com
must be an austrailian thing

Beanie
hardly.

therust111@hotmail.com
you goign to explain it to me?

Beanie
http://forum.wordreference.com/showthread.php?t=14400

» scroll down about 4 posts.

therust111@hotmail.com
never heard ofi t

» the least you could have done was say you were leaving

» I just like you thats all

Beanie
you've never met me.

therust111@hotmail.com
yeah but ur really fun

» I get off just about everytime we talk

Beanie
that's very flattering, but it doesn't really mean you like me, not properly anyway.

therust111@hotmail.com
ur just fun

» sorry if Im such a jackass

Beanie
no it's ok, you're not too bad, look i'll be back in a bit, i have to eat.

FUCK YEAH!

Sat, 07 Oct 2006 17:21:39 GMT

Scotland 1 - France 0

England 0 - FYR Macedonia 0

Speaks for itself really.

Fist

Tue, 03 Oct 2006 10:03:13 GMT

The crowd were growing restless, the room was hot, the beer warm, and the band arrogant.

'Alright you motherfuckers, we've time for just one more', screamed Will, leaning darkly over his mic stand, 'And it's one we don't play very often, but it'll blow your fuckin' minds!'

As they launched abrasively into 'Wish' all April could do was roll her eyes at the predictability of the evening. Why she was always sent to review the shitty industrial bands with delusions of grandeur she never knew. Sighing, she turned from the group and made her way to the bar, being leered at by some of the teenagers who'd managed to get past the considerable bulk of the bouncers.

'Wish there was something real in this world for yoouuu!' Will managed to finish on a high, despite his corroded vocal chords screaming at him for lubrication. He threw his mic down almost hitting some kid in the face and walked off the stage, feeling like the nasty, hot, arrogant rockstar that he really wasn't.

'Fuck sake' mumbled bassist Pete, before thanking the crowd and heading backstage.

'Why do you always do that bullshit "I'm to cool to thank the cunts that showed up to hear our sorry asses play" you dickhead?'

'Fuck 'em, they love that shit.' Will retorted, knocking back a shot of Jager and hungrily eyeing his backpack which contained a little bag full of E. 'Seriously dude, when we're big it'll be like, our thing man!'

'No, it won't. And you know why? Because every other sell out motherfucker has done it before. Al Jourgensen, Marilyn Manson, hell, even JOHNNY FUCKING CASH DID IT, and you know what? They all look like arrogant fucking tools. Like you.'

'Ahhh fuck off Pete,' Will slung the bottle of Jager towards him, it bounced off his numb hand and smashed to the floor as the other band members trooped through the door. 'You useless motherfucker.' He snarled as he stormed past the lot of them, seeking solace at the bar.

April, sitting nursing a Black Russian heard a smash and turned to see if the night was being livened up by some rowdy kids who'd had too much. Alas, it was just some back-stage lovers tiff and the lead singer, Will she thought, stomped through a small door and made for the bar. He noticed her staring and said,

'Care for an autograph?'

'Maybe, if I knew who the fuck you were and thought that you were in any way a decent band'

'Wha-?' he managed to blurt out, by way of a reply.

'Seriously dude, Will, isn't it' a pink faced nod, 'you guys sound tight, and you sing some interesting stuff, when you aren't covering the stereotypical waffle that most of you guys revere, but a bit of humility wouldn't go amiss. You're not famous yet, and you won't be with such a shitty attitude towards your fans.'

'Well, I appreciate your honesty honey, but honestly, what the fuck do you know? If you were anywhere in the music industry, you wouldn't be touring little venues like this, would ya?'

'Admittedly no, but I know some people. Sit down, stop being a dickhead and we'll talk.'

The night wore on into the small hours. At about 1AM the rest of the band emerged from backstage and saw Will, hopelessly tangled around a poor woman who looked pretty upset about it. A collective 'Fuck him' and they left, weaving dangerously down the road in an untaxed van.

April had been carefully measuring the drink she was consuming, not wanting to get to the state Will was in. He became increasingly arrogant throughout the night and there were points where she wondered if even he would learn from what she was about to teach him.

'Allright Will,' she stood, ' We're going now, me and you, to see some people I know'.

Awkwardly he unwrapped himself from around her shoulders and mumbled something positive.

In the car he began to sober up, realised the time and the dead-end job he had to be at in little under 4 hours, and began to have misgivings.

'Hey. Uhhhhh.....?'

'April'

'Yeah, April, look I have to be at work in like 4 hours or some shit. If I show up a mess again I'll lose the job and my apartment and all that shit, so can we just call it a night?'

'Will, when you've met the people I'm about to introduce you to, you won't need another job. You'll be sorted, believe me.'

'Well, OK, but if you're trying to fuck with me I'll rip out your fucking lungs, bitch.'

April clenched her hands around the wheel of the beat up old car and smiled a thin lipped smile, knowing the emptiness of his threats.

========================================

This is sort of half done right now. I'm planning on finishing it, opinions?

My September 11th

Mon, 11 Sep 2006 11:05:24 GMT

I had been living in Los Angeles for just over a year when the events of September 11th unfolded. In fact they unfolded quite traumatically as I was awoken from a mild hangover by my girlfriend screaming down the phone at me 'Get up! We're all gonna die!'. After I had hung up and slept for a couple more hours, I felt ready to face the day.

I picked up the phone and called the lady, Charmaine, back. She told me in no uncertain terms that the world was going to end, we were all fucked and that she didn't want to die without having sex again. Wicked thought I and biked over to her house.

After some skill-less teenage fucking, we watched the news and I found out what had been bothering her so much. Some shit had got blown up in New York and it was a massive catastrophe. My propositions that it wasn't that big a deal cuz the British have been dealing with terrorists since way back when, fell on deaf and angry ears. I suppose that being British I couldn't really relate to an essentially American tragedy, and still have hard times caring a huge amount. Still, I could see that she was upset and suggested a walk around Santa Monica Boardwalk.

It was weird to see such a normally bustling place so desolate and empty. Even the tramps had hidden themselves away and there was no sign of the street performers who usually pissed me off so much. The only person who was there was some crazy old black guy yelling about the end of days, much like that one scene in 'House of 1000 Corspes'. It was extremely fucking eerie.

We sat down on a bench opposite that record shop that's now been shut down, probably for selling illegals to minors, I forget the name, but it was cool. Since I'm British, I'd been smoking since I was a toddler, and had convinced Charmaine that it was the done thing. We sat smoking, her a clove and me a poorly executed rollie. In the distance we saw what we thought was a couple cycling towards us.

All too late we realised that it was a couple of cops. Biker cops. The gayest policemen on the planet. Seriously, how underfunded does a PD have to be to start giving out fucking bicycles to officers? These healthy motherfuckers roll on up to us, failing to look intimidating, and say, 'Kids, how old are you?'

'16 officer', I replied, nervously, not knowing the laws regarding smoking in the States. Charmaine was actually striken and unable to speak as a female officer began to interrogate her.

My cop, who was about 6'3", and would have been intimidating were it not for the triangle of metal between his legs, leant down towards me, and plucked the rollie from my lips. Taking a draw he said,

'Golden Virginia, good taste son.'

'Thanks, officer, uh...' At this point I made the fatal mistake of looking at his name tag. It read Wang. Officer Wang was about to bust me for smoking.

'Thanks, Officer... *snort hack cough laugh* Wang...'

'Do you find my name funny, son?' He wondered, raising his tea-shades, to assess my laughing form.

'No, Officer, I have a bad throat, I should cut back.' The general expression of joviality melted from Wang's face.

'Is this really a day to be making jokes, punk? You know how many good Americans have lost their lives today?'

'No Officer,' I managed not to add 'I'm Scottish, fuck off' into that, which is probably a good thing.

'Well let me tell you something, this makes Vietnam look like a walk in the goddamn park!'

I couldn't quite believe my ears, though I knew that some Americans had fucked up ideas about things, I'd never heard anything this retarded. I said nothing and quietly accepted the ticket he gave me.

210 bastarding dollars for a smoke.

What the fuck is up with that?

Since I couldn't pay the fine I spent 3 Sundays picking up dead birds off a fucking beach.

Rusty Gets a Scare

Sat, 09 Sep 2006 10:53:21 GMT

Obviously, my sexual aggressiveness is starting to scare this boy... Read on!

therust111@hotmail.com
hey babe

Beanie
hi.

therust111@hotmail.com
sorry I had to run off this morning

Beanie
it's ok.

therust111@hotmail.com
did u get off?

Beanie
no.

therust111@hotmail.com
neither did I

Beanie
you said you did.

therust111@hotmail.com
no I didnt

Beanie
therust111@hotmail.com
I grab onto the carpet in the van and blow all over

» someone else typed that then?

therust111@hotmail.com
that was in the damn role play

» maybe you should punish me for being so naughty and running off on u

Beanie
honestly. you're just fucking lazy at this. there aren't many women who want to do EVERYTHING all the time. consideration. look it up.

therust111@hotmail.com
well common

» I can be considerate

» I dont kno wohw you like it though

Beanie
it's not like you've ever asked.

therust111@hotmail.com
too bad we cant do it on the phone

» ur austrailian accent would make me ahrder than steel

Beanie
see again, there you go. changing the subject BACK TO YOU!

therust111@hotmail.com
well then

» what do you want to do?

Beanie
what do you mean, what do i want to do?

» is that any sort of way to find out how a girl likes to fuck on the internet?

» do you find this approach usually works?

therust111@hotmail.com
sorry Im such a bastard

Beanie
did i say you were a bastard? no. all i said was that you needed to be a bit more thoughtful. it makes real life easier too.

therust111@hotmail.com
well lets do a role play

Beanie
oookaayy..

therust111@hotmail.com
what roles do U want

Beanie
what roles am i allowed? I want to be lazy and have you type filth to me so i can get off.

therust111@hotmail.com
any roles you want

» we can go back and forth cant we?

» I promise I'll do most of the work

Beanie
back and forth? like a fucking see saw? to date i don't think you've written me anything even remotely sexually creative.

therust111@hotmail.com
yes I have

» lets just go with it

» tell me ur fanticy

Beanie
my fanticy? first off it's fantasy. like fantasia with a y. and not for children. and i have many. most of all i'd like someone to fuck me in a fast food store back where they make all the burgers while the store is really busy.

therust111@hotmail.com
kinda weird

» anything more erotic?

Beanie
how is that not erotic? it's like sex in public. just because the location isn't somewhere demure like, say, a library, doesn't make it any less erotic.

therust111@hotmail.com
I like it private sorry

» lol

» library sounds fun

Beanie
no. libraries are boring. full of books. nobody goes there so the chances of getting caught are minimal. in a fast food store there are all sorts of oily things and condiments to cover me in.

therust111@hotmail.com
;-P

» what about in a school

» or a hospital

Beanie
what are you a paedophile? no. far too mainstream. that's the number one male fantasy, nurses. anyway, didn't you see silent hill, they fucked that shit up royal.

therust111@hotmail.com
army chics have always turned me on

» of course so have austrailians so

Beanie
i'm australian, our army is too busy drinking fosters and mourning steve irwin to fight. what about in an aquarium, on one of those moving belt things under the water?

therust111@hotmail.com
hmm

Beanie
moody lighting. it's like being outside with nature. only inside and warm with sex.

therust111@hotmail.com
mm

Beanie
?

therust111@hotmail.com
I donno really waht you're talking about

» what about a souna

Beanie
you've never been to an aquarium?

therust111@hotmail.com
oh yeah

» I know what you mean

Beanie
right.

therust111@hotmail.com
sorry Im doing a million things at once

» kk

» so where to have it

Beanie
you don't seem to like my suggestions too much.

therust111@hotmail.com
well they are kinda weird and just wouldnt get me in the mood

Beanie
how many times a week do you eat fast food?

therust111@hotmail.com
not very many

» cause its sick

Beanie
how many?

therust111@hotmail.com
like 2

Beanie
so it's a familiar environment, yet you're scared of it?

therust111@hotmail.com
no

» it just doesnt sound erotic

Beanie
fine. you pick somewhere.

therust111@hotmail.com
I donno where would please you and me both

Beanie
suggest sometihng. that isn't too ordinary.

therust111@hotmail.com
ummm

Guess Who?

Thu, 07 Sep 2006 11:57:40 GMT

My online lover, who thinks I'm an Australian woman, messaged me again today. Once again I was frustrated by his pre-mature ejaculation and his utter lack of commitment. The boy just doesn't recognise my needs as a woman. HAHAHAHAHAHA. Ahem. On with the show!

therust111@hotmail.com
hi

Beanie
hiya

therust111@hotmail.com
how u be?

Beanie
not bad, you?

therust111@hotmail.com
not bad

» do u have one of those really sex austrailian accents?

Beanie
what like steve irwin? yes.

therust111@hotmail.com
sexy

» nice

Beanie
you think it's sexy that i sound like a man ?

therust111@hotmail.com
no

» austrailian women have that accent and its really sexy

» it like turns me on to think about it

Beanie
really? that's impressive.

therust111@hotmail.com
thats why I said the other day that it would be fun to have phone sex with you

Beanie
oh yeah. my phone just got cut off because i can't afford the bills.

therust111@hotmail.com
thats too bad

Beanie
tell me about it

therust111@hotmail.com
would you do it though?

Beanie
what, phone sex? i am a master.

therust111@hotmail.com
fuck

» I so wanna do it now

» u wanna do something erotic now cause Im really in the mod

» mood

Beanie
awwww. something erotic? how about you start, i always seem to!

therust111@hotmail.com
thats cause I suck at starting lol

» lol

» hmmm

» well how u wanna do it?

» I feel like doing something in a car or van

Beanie
you wanna fuck me with a gearstick baby?

therust111@hotmail.com
lol

» I was thinking in the back of a van cause its in a car and can get steamy but we have room

» I have less than a half hour so

» we better get the show roling lol

Beanie
ok hold on, type something dirty to get me in the mood (i'm at work)

therust111@hotmail.com
hmmmm

» we go to the back of the fan and I pin you down and start to kiss ur neck while rubbing my dick on ur pussy thorough our cloths

Beanie
ohh baby that feels so good!

At this point, shame started kicking in again. So for the sake of my decency, and for the eyes and ears of any minors, I'm not sharing this part. Nope, it's going into my personal spank bank. Picture, to get away from the grisly pornographic material that you don't get to read, meadows and shit.

therust111@hotmail.com
I grab onto the carpet in the van and blow all over

» YOU FILTHY LITTLE WHORE YOU LIL BITCH

Beanie
i rub your cum into me as i touch my pussy to get me off.

therust111@hotmail.com
OH TORTURE ME YOU BITCH

» oh fuck Im running late for class

Beanie
i keep touching myself but make you watch, holding your head so you can smell me but not touch me, as i start to cum i take your face and push it hard agaisnt my pussy so that all you can smell is me... fuck your class.

» i mean really.

» how rude.

therust111@hotmail.com
iI told you that I had less than a half hour left

» when we started

» Im sorry

Beanie
humph.

therust111@hotmail.com
I feel bad

Beanie
it's alright, but seriously, timing. you suck at it.

therust111@hotmail.com
Im running so late though

» Im glad we got to do what we did

» you're awesome at this

Beanie
you should e-mail me pictures of your big hard cock so i can wank over them.

therust111@hotmail.com
maybe I will

Beanie
maybe you should, or maybe i'll stop talking to you.

Needless to say, I'm not going to stop talking to him, especially when I could pull the ultimate exercise in revenge for no particular reason the world has ever seen! Expect pictures on moid and CJ if I ever get paydirt from this saga!