May 8, 2013

I buy a coffee and take a seat.
I’m the King. I’m the best.

Erotic Vampire Fan-Fiction

September 26, 2012

“You came.” She said, feigning surprise.
“Not yet.” He replied, smirking.
“So are you.”
“You’re making me so wet.” She said.
The Vampire’s body shook, like he was a giant vibrator.
“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME!” She screamed.

Carpet Diem

July 4, 2012

“It’s just a rug!” He screamed in frustration.
He stretched across and licked the rug.
It was like licking a strawberry.

Harsh Winds

December 3, 2011

The man leaned over.
He was fat, moustached and red faced.
His body wobbled and flobbed like the tides of the ocean.
His rolls jiggled and collided like continents.
Mountains of fat burst from orifices they hadn’t been before.
‘Eeeee’ he said.
Finally his last breath left him.
He had died.
A tragic spine shattering death that smelt strangely like honey.



If you believe in such things.

All my socks were at the wash… NO.
But I did have one pair of socks left…
I couldn’t wear them…
Crusty yellow socks, smelling of rotting flesh…
I pulled them out of the draw…
OH GOD the smell! It reeked like death… DEODORANT.
The door bell. Fuck, she was here!
And I am still hopeful.
One day, this fisherman will catch a fish.
Until then, just know, ladies. I am DTF.

Sundae Thoughts

September 23, 2010

In California at 6:42 AM, a big fat man- and when I say fat, I mean really fat, like he makes obese people look anorexic because he’s so fucking fat- sits in McDonalds gobbling up 9 Big Macs, 7 large fries, 2 triple cheese burgers, 4 bacon cheese burgers, 6 McChicken burgers, 14 large Red Fanta’s, 3 caramel latte’s with 4 sugars, 19 chocolate muffins, and last but not least, 27 chocolate Sundaes. It is a Saturday. As the man devours his feast, (feast for you maybe, but for him, merely an appetiser). He gobbles his food vigorously, oblivious to the world around him. But curious, the brain inside in fat head is functioning, and he is using it. This is what he thought:
“It’s Saturday today, omnomnom, and I’m eating a Sundae, omnomnom, it’s so god damn delicious, omnomnom, I wonder, if it’s Saturday here, omnomnom, and I’m eating a Sundae, omnomnom, could it be SUNDAY elsewhere? Omnomnom.”
Of course, the man across the table on his way to work, who dropped in to enjoy a nice cup of coffee, watched in a horrified trance as this planet devoured all that food.
“My god” he thought “What a fat fuck.”
He then proceeded to drink his coffee and escape as soon as possible; on his way to work his was hit by a bus and killed. But that is another story.
The Hippo inside McDonalds was nearing the finish of his meal. Releasing a glorious fart and scratching his rectum he then proceeded to waddle (or roll) his way out of the restaurant. Of course as stupidly obese as he was he did have a brain, and he liked to use it. This is what he thought as he waddled:
“I wonder…. How many sea shells DOES she sell on the sea shore?”
He then proceeded to a fish and chip shop to eat 20 crumbed fish and some crab cakes. The owner could only watch in horror, hypnotised by the wobbling of his fat flaps, later recalling to people how it had it’s own rhythm, kind of like the ocean.
The fat man, who curiously enough had not yet been named (we shall henceforth call him Tim), continued his treacherous walk to the beach, upon where a lonely Japanese man (curiously named Ahab) mistook him for the evil white whale (Moby Dick) and struck him down with a harpoon.
Tim, who in the shock of having a harpoon go flying through his stomach, then proceeded to realise all the McDonalds he had eaten out of his rear, spraying out like a blowhole all over Ahab, who later recalled that the incident was ‘horrifyingly euphoric’ of course, we can only imagine.
Later after some surgery Tim returned home where he watched 9 hours of Leno, before going to sleep.


June 8, 2010










All to Die

April 22, 2010

He begins carving his own face. Blood spills to the floor like water from an overflowing drain. The thick salty smell fills his nostrils as he hacks at his face like a butcher. Skin and blood fall like the fat chunks of meat they are.
The knife has reached his cheekbones and the man begins chiselling away at it. Chunking crushing sounds like sticking a shovel in sand.
He bashes at the bone as he screams, haunting long and painful screams. He cuts ferociously at it like knife against a dinner plate.
The screaming continues, long hard yelling amidst howling and crying.
The salty tears burn against the places where flesh once was. It stings so much that it is unbearable, yet the man continues, breaking through the bones and moving on to his own nose. He slices at it like a child would slice at cheese, there is nothing more then a deep dark bloody gap within a few seconds as the man’s screaming only radiates louder. He stops, and slowly moves over to the mirror for a look.
He inspects himself, raising an eyebrow and attempting a smile into the mirror.
He quickly dashes away and begins searching within the dark oak drawer next to the bed.
He is in a small dark room with little bits of dust floating around. He is rushing, and attempting to gain a hold of his new body, he is unsure of how to breath yet, he knows air fills his lungs but the feeling is strange without a nose.
He pulls out a small black object from the drawer. Holding it in front of him it begins flashing. It is a camera.
After a few minutes of photos the man picks the knife back up, and continues his carving.
He begins with simple symbols in his chest, but he does not know how long until that wont be enough… until he needs more destruction, more pain.
His teeth grit as he feels the insane hate and rage build within him, the urge rises again.
He screams with ravenous anger and begins punching himself in the face. Pulling and tugging at his teeth. He wants them out, they have to go.
He continues punching as blood and spit fly across the room. He runs back and forth across the room, beating himself, along the way bits of his face squishing in between his toes and sticking to his feet.
This annoys him. He begins stabbing at the chunks of his face now layering the floor.
He wants them to die. All to die.
He will burn them. Again in the oak draw he pulls out a bottle of Metho and some matches. He opens the lid and dances across the room, spraying the Metho everywhere, it sprays over his own body. It burns. He licks the place where his lips once were and grabs a box of matches. He begins to light before noticing a cheese grinder in the corner of his eye. He stops.
Before he goes he must use it at least once. He grabs a hold of it and pretends it is a bar of soap, as it slices skin from under his arms and his legs, ripping skin from all over his body. Satisfied, he proceeds to light a match. He holds it, staring deep into the flame.
He drops it.
Screams fill the night.


March 21, 2010

The essence of cum fills my nose as I scream.
I cannot stop him. This man is stronger than me…

Today has been a ‘very’ interesting day….