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Profile for venezuelan beaver cheese:
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I'm here, I'm queer, I really need a beer...

30ish former Manchester lad now living in the Colonies (SE Virginia
to be more precise) with an American bloke who is neither fat nor stupid. Known to enjoy underwater basket weaving, medieval macrame and annoying small-mouth bass on a daily basis.

Ooh...and wanking like a clockwork monkey to kitten porn whenever the current Mr. Cheese is elsewhere engaged.

I AM THE PARISIAN SEDUCTRESS! Which French Stereotype Are You?

What Is Your Battle Cry?

Rampaging after a coke-fueled Twitter frenzy, herding two hardened battle llamas, cometh Venezuelan Beaver Cheese! And he gives a bloodthirsty scream:

"Say, does anyone know how to Madison?"



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Best answers to questions:

» Unexpected Nudity

My sodding neighbour Ty...
I shall call him Tyler for that is well and truly his name. Ty was a 20-something US Army wanker that lived 3 doors down from me. A reasonably attractive lad in a I've-had-a-few-pints-why-the-fuck-not sort of way, a knockout but jejune girlfriend, a very hairy body (this becomes important later on) and a world class "Betty Ford Center calling. The Chevy Chase Suite is ready for you dear" drinking problem. Up until that fateful day Ty's antics were, for the most part, harmless. Unfortunately this was to change...

On the day in question Chris (the current Mr. Cheese) and I had just finished a bit of count the legs and divide by two and as I lay there sucking on a fag* I heard a tremendous crash with an accompanying glass shatter chorus coming from the front room. At this point I should mention that we live in a rather posh neighbourhood and Godzilla eats Tokyo sound effects are not a common occurrence. It was Ty. Attacking his flatmates lorry with a large hunk of fallen tree branch. Stark, fucking naked. And drunk as a bishop. At 2 PM. In front of a park. With kids watching. And their horrified mothers.

After throwing on something suitable for the occasion (i.e. clothing) I went outside to convince the twat that being visibly drunk and most visibly starkers was not in his best interests. No matter, by this time Tyler had decided to have a bit of a liedown on the grass about 1 foot from the main road where he proceeded to immediately pass out. And piss on himself. I glanced across the street and saw about 20 people screaming into their cell phones, obviously alerting Norfolk's Finest to the pubic hair, penis and piss buffet spread out before them. As I headed back inside, convinced the situation was well and truly in hand, I heard a whimper not unlike that of a three year old who just sat on the Christmas kitten coming from Chris. Tyler had rolled over exposing his Robin Williams caliber hairy arse for the entire world to see.

"Cheese? Oh Christ on a bike, get a sheet. One you don't like..."

The dirty cunt had shat on himself in the recent past...

...and. let. it. dry.

Rivers of dried ass pudding had coated the back of his legs down to his knees, forming little modern art poo and pubes stalactites. This was too much, even for me. Norfolk PD showed up about 2 minutes later and they were most definitely not amused. Neither was the EMS team that by now were dressed in full bio-hazard kit and had to quite literally pour the drunken sod into the back of their vehicle.


Tyler no longer lives here.



Length? Not much from where I was standing. A bit lacking in the girth department as well.

*not Chris. A Kool menthol.


(Sun 31st May 2009, 21:55, More)