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Sunday 18th March 2007.

I have risen today to do battle with the host crotch goblin who is going to be my companion,mentor rider of spiders for the next eight months.He needs no introduction for i have known about such a beast for many moons,walked down and drank from many a stream bedecked by the rash of waving stinging nettles still wanting to feast on the crotch goblins cock.The rash of stings, hold no hurt,no rash, guilt,the taste of strange seed needing to germinate amongst my taste buds rides on through the underworld i inhabit.
This morning after opening my cyber mail i can already feel ou'tre` dribbling on to my trussed up sac the urge to masturbate is even stronger, a burning in my loins wants me to stretch beyond and pull,not even the allowance of strokes whipped hard has eased the strange desire to go up and over the wall i have built for myself.
Last night the transvestite Sister katee had a request from across the pond to wear some green on Saint Paddy's night..it would have been a delight to wear green stockings and such scantily clad as one could be....However Manchester weather being such a porcelain god and katee still fumbling for a key to the closet door.A simple green t-shirt,green trousers my aunts green pull over brought back from Australia shuffled me through the door onto the big wide world inhabited by more goblins,gargoyles than one could find in any children's book,with this in mind and the desire to have human contact beyond the people i live with, the circle of work who's attitude is sinking beneath the bismark making my mind stall into thinking what the fuck am i doing on this planet.
Instead of my trusty bus..the local train was mounted it's big rambling cock all yellow plastic wrapped around iron wheels the night speed through gloom and trickling rain down the windows did not detach from my simple joy of looking out of the window.
It was a wild night if you do not believe in all the creatures of the night then last night was one that would make you think otherwise.At the back of the train was a drunken crowd of delicious cocks returning from a football match the drink had loosened their tongues and singing curled along the carriage rising up through my boots i smiled stared harder through the window catching the endless urban sprawl i both hate and luv in the same motion,the rise to smash,the rise to build a kimono over ungainly gulags burns away deep in troglodyte melancholy bliss.
My companion for the night thankfully who's neatly encased cock rises no sap in me was ready with a smile and a hug the most precious of human gifts a simple hug, one human enfolding flesh on flesh...carried us both into the Manchester rain,the droplets fell we did not bother, like two naughty school boys we advanced to a pub were the first nights foaming mirth was tasted..on ward we stepped back out,down nearer to our aim of the evening a night with the " undertones "..the second pint of foaming mirth came from one of those tiny bars enough room for a shepard and his dog without the urge to swing a cat around.As we entered there was a pleasant cock sat with his roll ups and drinking from a huge bottle of steaming mirth,conversation was easy,relax came with a closed door the beer flowed talk of anything remotely like work was shunted into the sidings...being the voyeur my eyes glimpsed through the barmaid who's smile made me linger over her flower patterned top which made up for the fact that something was missing,in my vanity haunted mind.
The clock ticked on not even reaching over and fingering the second hand would stop the advancement of the world and so we went in.It must be now thirty years since i went into a beer throwing pogo dancing crowd..but here now at fifty-one requested by someone who's age i could father and as the night grew and the beer flowed i could feel his sap rise in dancing body movement to advance deep into the young chanting waving crowd within touch of the band.Holding onto the sides of his t-shirt i pushed deeper the mass of human flesh opened up, for a while i forgot i was fifty one as we side stepped falling bodies flying beer sang chanted doing the strangest of dance holding on to this jigging t-shirt in a time warp only we could comprehend we moved with the flow, a sea in flesh rolling waves the crashing beat,the strutting vocalist was for us Saint Patrick's day.
In the cool of this morning sat her in the nude,i wonder what saint paddy would make of this day each year in his name and the creatures who bare all the lesbians,homo's bisexuals and all the fetish crowds who dance rave and fuck on his day...i read a blog the other week who thought all politicians should suck cock and the world would be a safer place..save some for me...lol....

Comments

( 3 comments — Leave a comment )
wishesinwoods2
Mar. 18th, 2007 08:25 pm (UTC)
I'm happy to hear that Katee dared to come out fo the closet for even a slight peek.

The whole night sounds great!

I think that Paddy, seeing what he missed out on, has converted to paganism and raising a glass of irish whiskey.
(Anonymous)
Apr. 15th, 2007 12:24 pm (UTC)
i got a cock you can suck
i would like to eat your pussy
bichoose
Apr. 15th, 2007 03:00 pm (UTC)
Re: i got a cock you can suck
Oh gosh..yes..yes i would like to suck your cock..drink it all every last drop but knowing my luck..your thousands of miles away....but if not..oh gosh yes....
( 3 comments — Leave a comment )

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