Firm young buttocks, tongues exploring every cavity in each other's teeth and tasting dinners. Blood, semen, feces and fanny batter, sucking, licking, slapping and biting, a can of beans a loaf of bread and a bottle of salad cream, thats what I need from the shop, enjoy the post.Warning, do not read this post if you are easily nauseated by the thought old Old Knudsen having sex, are pregnant or may become so or operate heavy machinery while intoxicated , this post contains extreme graphic sexual content of an extremely graphic nature , no bar graphs were hurt during the making of this post.
I was born and lived most of my early life in the village of Friggadoon at the mouth of Loch lorna. That was back when the Loch was teeming with fish and had it's own monster, and all the seaweed you could eat.
I was a young man so naive about the world beyond the human skulls on posts that marked the village boundaries that I thought Euthanasia were chinky school kids, in fact it was only since I started to see NHS Doctors that I heard this term a lot as they keep suggesting it as the ultimate cure for all my ills, they said the risk was worth it.
So I was an idiot as a youngman , all I thought about was my fuzzy mustache that made me look cool, how low should my sideburns be and my souped up Donkey cart with the go faster strips and the 'NO FEAR' decals.
Me and my mate Ned would tear around the village at 5 miles per hour with Reckless Abandonment, people would indeed shake their fists at our antics. Reckless could be a bit of a twat after sniffing one too many rotten herrings, he just never knew his limit at when to stop, the red ones always put him into a fighting mood. I could explain how the seeing red expression came from Reckless and his herrings but you'll have enough trouble getting through this post as it is due to yer Goldfish attention spans.
It was mostly just Ned and I. closer than brothers we were, sometimes we would rough house in the tall grass, "I'd say, I'll get ya in the tall grass" and we would laugh oh how we would laugh and then engage in the Highland ritual of the MacDirty Sanchez.
Things changed one summer when Molly Lochlann started to notice my manly stance and tight bulging trousers. Molly was a big brawny gurl and was the young ladies bare knuckle champion for the village, maybe it was the busted nose that went across her face rather than up and doon or maybe it was her gurlish giggle as she would pick me up and fling me at walls but she awoke feelings in my groin that Ned couldn't understand and once called me Ghey for trying to explain it, so Ned and I parted ways which was odd as I suspect he may have been an imaginary friend, I still see him now and then, hes the one that tells me to kill all the hoors, a strange
fella. One day the mists that surrounded the village cleared and an American couple stumbled in taking pictures and shouting "Top 'O' the morning to you", odd people, maybe that was an American greeting. They went on about how small everything was and why wasn't anyone wearing kilts? and that in America they had running water, you couldn't drink the stuff due to the Perchlorate in it but at least it ran, unlike ours that just ambled.
We enjoyed their foolishness with their loud talking and cowboy hatted ways for an hour or so then we decided to sacrifice them to the fire God Mac Logi Greine and have a feast to honour their gift to us, did anyone notice Texas was short of two of it's finest citizens? it was a fine party, those two fat fuckers not only fed the whole village with the usual leftovers but gave us enough soap for 5 years (we don't use that much to be honest but it was still a lot) Molly was tipsy on Buckfast and kept giving me the eye, I thought it was creepy and told her to keep it in her head, after a few drinks meself Molly started looking better and better and before you knew it we were up bumping and grinding to the bagpipes and bodruns, half way through Jimmy Findlater , she dragged me to the ancient stone fertility circle where we made love on the stone altar for a rough and fumbling 30 seconds (I was young damn it, now that's almost doubled) she sat astride me like a rodeo rider not releasing her grip until she got hers, then we lay there half naked with the freezing air making my useless man nipples pop up like corks, she gazed at my white ultraviolet body glowing in the moonlight with admiration for I had only broken 2 ribs during our sexual melee, I had passed her requirements with flying colours .
We walked along the cliff tops and feasted on any Puffins we could find as was our way, even now as I bite into a warm Puffin comically trying to fly away with its tiny wings I remember the first time I had sex (terms and conditions may apply sex with any other entity not being the point of this story)
I left the village just before dawn before the mists closed in again and before Mr Lochlann came round insisting that I get married. With my 10 gallon hat on, a fist full of traveler's cheques and a visa card "God bless America" I set out to see the world.
About 20 years later I did go back and visit Friggadoon, it had all changed, they had a Spar a video shop that boasted a full Chuck Norris collection (but not Walker damn it)
instead of a Witch Doctor they had a NHS health clinic so no change there, they still didn't have a policeman as they kept burning those boys in giant wicker men (HA! I knew I could get that in somewhere)
Molly hadn't married, she opened a pub called the 'Horny Viking' she had long held the title of the village bike and had adorned the walls with medals, trophies and used condoms in frames with names dates and times on them, very thorough , she had a son in his early 20's, probably from her promiscuous ways , he was called Randy, a wee shite if there ever was one, always had something to say and always talked out of his arse, a good looking lad but I couldn't stand him.
The Puffins were gone, all my family had moved on, a Presbyterian church stood on the stone circle and I no longer felt like I had a connection with the place. I did find find out about the mysterious mist that surrounded out village though, Hammer Films used to make a load of Dracula and Werewolf movies doon the road and had more smoke machines than Duran Duran.
I was born and lived most of my early life in the village of Friggadoon at the mouth of Loch lorna. That was back when the Loch was teeming with fish and had it's own monster, and all the seaweed you could eat.
I was a young man so naive about the world beyond the human skulls on posts that marked the village boundaries that I thought Euthanasia were chinky school kids, in fact it was only since I started to see NHS Doctors that I heard this term a lot as they keep suggesting it as the ultimate cure for all my ills, they said the risk was worth it.
So I was an idiot as a youngman , all I thought about was my fuzzy mustache that made me look cool, how low should my sideburns be and my souped up Donkey cart with the go faster strips and the 'NO FEAR' decals.
Me and my mate Ned would tear around the village at 5 miles per hour with Reckless Abandonment, people would indeed shake their fists at our antics. Reckless could be a bit of a twat after sniffing one too many rotten herrings, he just never knew his limit at when to stop, the red ones always put him into a fighting mood. I could explain how the seeing red expression came from Reckless and his herrings but you'll have enough trouble getting through this post as it is due to yer Goldfish attention spans.
It was mostly just Ned and I. closer than brothers we were, sometimes we would rough house in the tall grass, "I'd say, I'll get ya in the tall grass" and we would laugh oh how we would laugh and then engage in the Highland ritual of the MacDirty Sanchez.
Things changed one summer when Molly Lochlann started to notice my manly stance and tight bulging trousers. Molly was a big brawny gurl and was the young ladies bare knuckle champion for the village, maybe it was the busted nose that went across her face rather than up and doon or maybe it was her gurlish giggle as she would pick me up and fling me at walls but she awoke feelings in my groin that Ned couldn't understand and once called me Ghey for trying to explain it, so Ned and I parted ways which was odd as I suspect he may have been an imaginary friend, I still see him now and then, hes the one that tells me to kill all the hoors, a strange
fella. One day the mists that surrounded the village cleared and an American couple stumbled in taking pictures and shouting "Top 'O' the morning to you", odd people, maybe that was an American greeting. They went on about how small everything was and why wasn't anyone wearing kilts? and that in America they had running water, you couldn't drink the stuff due to the Perchlorate in it but at least it ran, unlike ours that just ambled.
We enjoyed their foolishness with their loud talking and cowboy hatted ways for an hour or so then we decided to sacrifice them to the fire God Mac Logi Greine and have a feast to honour their gift to us, did anyone notice Texas was short of two of it's finest citizens? it was a fine party, those two fat fuckers not only fed the whole village with the usual leftovers but gave us enough soap for 5 years (we don't use that much to be honest but it was still a lot) Molly was tipsy on Buckfast and kept giving me the eye, I thought it was creepy and told her to keep it in her head, after a few drinks meself Molly started looking better and better and before you knew it we were up bumping and grinding to the bagpipes and bodruns, half way through Jimmy Findlater , she dragged me to the ancient stone fertility circle where we made love on the stone altar for a rough and fumbling 30 seconds (I was young damn it, now that's almost doubled) she sat astride me like a rodeo rider not releasing her grip until she got hers, then we lay there half naked with the freezing air making my useless man nipples pop up like corks, she gazed at my white ultraviolet body glowing in the moonlight with admiration for I had only broken 2 ribs during our sexual melee, I had passed her requirements with flying colours .
We walked along the cliff tops and feasted on any Puffins we could find as was our way, even now as I bite into a warm Puffin comically trying to fly away with its tiny wings I remember the first time I had sex (terms and conditions may apply sex with any other entity not being the point of this story)
I left the village just before dawn before the mists closed in again and before Mr Lochlann came round insisting that I get married. With my 10 gallon hat on, a fist full of traveler's cheques and a visa card "God bless America" I set out to see the world.
About 20 years later I did go back and visit Friggadoon, it had all changed, they had a Spar a video shop that boasted a full Chuck Norris collection (but not Walker damn it)
instead of a Witch Doctor they had a NHS health clinic so no change there, they still didn't have a policeman as they kept burning those boys in giant wicker men (HA! I knew I could get that in somewhere)
Molly hadn't married, she opened a pub called the 'Horny Viking' she had long held the title of the village bike and had adorned the walls with medals, trophies and used condoms in frames with names dates and times on them, very thorough , she had a son in his early 20's, probably from her promiscuous ways , he was called Randy, a wee shite if there ever was one, always had something to say and always talked out of his arse, a good looking lad but I couldn't stand him.
The Puffins were gone, all my family had moved on, a Presbyterian church stood on the stone circle and I no longer felt like I had a connection with the place. I did find find out about the mysterious mist that surrounded out village though, Hammer Films used to make a load of Dracula and Werewolf movies doon the road and had more smoke machines than Duran Duran.
