Bingowings’s blog
Getting laid ain’t easy
Pah! Just pah! Honestly, a guy tries to get some sex, and it always fails. For some reason, instead of bumming me, blokes take it upon themselves to unload a lifetime of shit at my door. Granted, helping them out in these times of apparent crisis makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside, but I want to feel warm and fuzzy from shagging, and then I may feel satisfied too. I just wish if people would invite themselves back to yours for sex, they’d have the decency to actually have sex with you! On the other hand, everytime I go to the toilet, a swamp appears from my bum, so maybe it’s for the best
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Pajama-poo
Hmmm, I may have aquired food poisoning, I believe Scott has too, as we’ve both been sick, and are both pooing liquid. What I failed to realise as I tried to pass wind this morning is that liquid feels like gas in the bum, and so I accidentally may have done a liquid shat in my pajamas. Now is a time of mourning and of ritual burning I think, and a time to wobble away and curl up somewhere warm.
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Fame and notoriety
So there I was, sat down chugging through the inane banter of shagdar yesterday, when an offer jumped up and bit me. It was for a poster, for a play to be shown in Croydon in July, called Blowing Whistles. I gained nothing except tickets to the opening night, and the chance to say “That’s me up there” So now you must all come along and see tha play, because I’m the poster boy for it
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Text-capades
So I was taken out on Saturday. By whom, you might ask, well, the lovely fluffy Scott of course, which necessitated a visit to the glamourous XXL. We showed Wil around, and thought we’d scare him with the dark room, alas, it was I who was scared. I somehow managed to lose both Scott and Wil, and found myself clamped between an orgy of 5 fat men in a corner. Certainly it was interesting if nothing else, and more than mesmorising watching fat rolls jiggle and bounce up and down, rather like a human lava lamp. Having managed to escape, a mere hour after being captured by only the hairiest of voluptuous men, I found myself alone, for Scott and Wil had abandoned all hope of finding me alive and not suffocated, and had got a taxi home. It was to this end that I decided to follow..... home that is. Having been a fool and left my mobile at home, I decided to check it for missed calls and texts as one would upon such a reunion with technology. I found 9 texts, and for the purposes of this, 2 are irrelevant. The remaining 7 however, did serve to lighten my mood slightly, as sweat from largely obese men does tend to dampen that, and they go as follows :- “I’d wrap a blind fold tite around ur eyes, tie ur hands 2 the door handle then tie ur ankles 2getha, lift u up & slide myself between ur hairy thighs” but wait, that was just one text.... they followed on “my buldgin purple head stroking u & brushing against ur balls while i open the condom packet (how sweet he observes safe sex in texts - ed) i lube ur arse well, all wet n slippery, i grab ur thighs lift u 2 my waist level then slide my hard meat deep inside u, thrusting u, pumping u hard, my balls slappin against ur tite cheeks, u feel my warm precum inside u, as I bang u deeper, harder n faster, i grab ur stiff cock & start wankin u off hardcore pullin ur juicy foreskin right back makin u groan, my hand bangin against ur fat hairy balls as my shaft opens you wider & wider, stretchin ur moist tite boy cunt raw.” The next text I read went thus “Oh god im sorry wrong numba. X” swiftly followed by “Hey bud how r u 2day? just wanna apologise 4 msg earlier, was meant 2 go 2 m8 as wind up, woops! no hard feelings eh?” As this is someone I have yet to meet, I’m suddenly filled with reservations, is it really a case of mistaken identity, or a flimsy attempt to get me horny in my boy parts?! Either way I found myself amused by his beligerance, I can only hope his fool-hardishness continues to amuse and bemuse.