Profile for McJuurgensHaircut:
Im the worlds first gay pirate activist
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Im the worlds first gay pirate activist
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
» Helicopter Parents
Oh The Horror......
My Mums not particularly protective, racist, homophobic or offensive yet she once managed to hit all four spot on with a comment so out of character it was the equilivent of Hitler having a Jewish girlfriend.
On hearing that me and the girlfriend had booked up a trip to Tunisia, she uttered the immortal line 'Be careful son, those Muslim men are always raping fat white boys'
I didn't know whether to laugh, cry or go on a diet.
(Tue 15th Sep 2009, 14:09, More)
Oh The Horror......
My Mums not particularly protective, racist, homophobic or offensive yet she once managed to hit all four spot on with a comment so out of character it was the equilivent of Hitler having a Jewish girlfriend.
On hearing that me and the girlfriend had booked up a trip to Tunisia, she uttered the immortal line 'Be careful son, those Muslim men are always raping fat white boys'
I didn't know whether to laugh, cry or go on a diet.
(Tue 15th Sep 2009, 14:09, More)
» The most childish thing you've done as an adult
Poodunnit
Ayia Napa 2002, A war between two friends, a battle to which there would be no return
He Stole My Passport
I superglued porn mags on his suitcase
He put pinpricks in my condoms
I set fire to his favourite shirt
He superglued my shoes to the ceiling
I waxed his chest while he slept
He poured wax in my pubes
I shit on his chest and sent his mum a picture of the aftermath from his phone.
Apparently sometimes things can go too far
(Thu 17th Sep 2009, 15:57, More)
Poodunnit
Ayia Napa 2002, A war between two friends, a battle to which there would be no return
He Stole My Passport
I superglued porn mags on his suitcase
He put pinpricks in my condoms
I set fire to his favourite shirt
He superglued my shoes to the ceiling
I waxed his chest while he slept
He poured wax in my pubes
I shit on his chest and sent his mum a picture of the aftermath from his phone.
Apparently sometimes things can go too far
(Thu 17th Sep 2009, 15:57, More)
» I don't understand the attraction
You Won't Like Me When Im Angry
Peter 'Fucking' Kay, quite simply the broadest, unfunniest, wanksock of a comedian I have ever had the pain of sitting through. I could quite easily pull his nails off with pliers whilst skull fucking him with the femur of a small Somalian child.
Don't get me wrong, Phoenix Nights was a little bit of a gem, but with every painful new DVD release and TV show it becomes more apparent that the success of Phoenix nights was down to Dave Spikey.
He's loud, obnoxious, unfunny, arrogant, steals other comedians jokes and fucking ugly. He's the McDonalds of comedians, he's found a recipe that agrees with the retarded masses and he just recycles and recycles it to death (there must be at least 20 varieties of the Garlic Bread joke). I could quite happily massacre by association, slaying down anyone with a dvd, book, mug, keyring, ringtone or Peter Kay branded chipmunk (available soon).
Catchphrases suck dick, Peter Kay loves the cock and his mum takes it up the Arse.
(Tue 20th Oct 2009, 16:04, More)
You Won't Like Me When Im Angry
Peter 'Fucking' Kay, quite simply the broadest, unfunniest, wanksock of a comedian I have ever had the pain of sitting through. I could quite easily pull his nails off with pliers whilst skull fucking him with the femur of a small Somalian child.
Don't get me wrong, Phoenix Nights was a little bit of a gem, but with every painful new DVD release and TV show it becomes more apparent that the success of Phoenix nights was down to Dave Spikey.
He's loud, obnoxious, unfunny, arrogant, steals other comedians jokes and fucking ugly. He's the McDonalds of comedians, he's found a recipe that agrees with the retarded masses and he just recycles and recycles it to death (there must be at least 20 varieties of the Garlic Bread joke). I could quite happily massacre by association, slaying down anyone with a dvd, book, mug, keyring, ringtone or Peter Kay branded chipmunk (available soon).
Catchphrases suck dick, Peter Kay loves the cock and his mum takes it up the Arse.
(Tue 20th Oct 2009, 16:04, More)
» Sexual fetishes
Porn
I love porn, preferrably amateur, definately not BBW and definately not barbie dolls, but its a nightmare to try a find a bit of grot with girls that are size 12-16-18 maybe on the net. Nightmare :-(
Where are the normal sized girls on tinterweb?
(Fri 23rd Oct 2009, 13:45, More)
Porn
I love porn, preferrably amateur, definately not BBW and definately not barbie dolls, but its a nightmare to try a find a bit of grot with girls that are size 12-16-18 maybe on the net. Nightmare :-(
Where are the normal sized girls on tinterweb?
(Fri 23rd Oct 2009, 13:45, More)
» I don't understand the attraction
Racing Driver
I once knew a boy who was obsessed with cars, he'd spend endless hours tinkering around with Corgi's whilst the other little boys were outside setting fires, terrorising pensioners and playing football. At the age of 8 his dad got him a go-kart and my did he love that thing, he'd race around the estate like OJ down the freeway.
He soon became the fastest young driver on the circuit, go-kart champion, then Formula 3, Le Mans, Formula 1, the British Rally Championship. You name it, this boy won it. We lost contact over the years, his a jet-set lifestyle around the world, parties in Milan, yachts in Monaco and christmas at P-Diddy's, and mine a non-stop orgy of cheap takeaways, 2 bed semi's and 2-4-1 Orange Wednesdays.
He called me last year and informed me he was to the take part in Staffordshire's premier Tractor Grand Prix, he knew I lived in the area and could I recommend a good hotel in exchange for a couple of tickets and an autograph. So I booked him a room in a rather plush 3 star Best Western and waited for the big day to arrive.
The engines roared and a dry rubbery smoke filled the air like a veil of uncertainess, they were off, the race was thrilling, my friend led from the off, as much as they tried the other drivers could not overtake him as he handled the car like a knight of yore would have handled a majestic steed. The race entered its final moments and my friend was still in front, with only an eighth of a mile left he entered the final turn, known as Grasing Corner, his back wheels came away from him and he spun 360 before coming to a stop. He revved the engine and was across the finish line, but it was to late, his late spin had cost him the podium and he had crossed the line in 6th place.
It was the first time in 15 years that he had not won a race, I met him backstage and he was devastated, he had the look of a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. I placed a hand on his shoulder and he embraced me, through his short breaths and tears of failure he told me that he just couldn't judge the turn at Grasing Corner. I looked him in the eye, he was a great driver but it was clear to me, he didn't understand the Hay-Traction.
(Wed 21st Oct 2009, 9:19, More)
Racing Driver
I once knew a boy who was obsessed with cars, he'd spend endless hours tinkering around with Corgi's whilst the other little boys were outside setting fires, terrorising pensioners and playing football. At the age of 8 his dad got him a go-kart and my did he love that thing, he'd race around the estate like OJ down the freeway.
He soon became the fastest young driver on the circuit, go-kart champion, then Formula 3, Le Mans, Formula 1, the British Rally Championship. You name it, this boy won it. We lost contact over the years, his a jet-set lifestyle around the world, parties in Milan, yachts in Monaco and christmas at P-Diddy's, and mine a non-stop orgy of cheap takeaways, 2 bed semi's and 2-4-1 Orange Wednesdays.
He called me last year and informed me he was to the take part in Staffordshire's premier Tractor Grand Prix, he knew I lived in the area and could I recommend a good hotel in exchange for a couple of tickets and an autograph. So I booked him a room in a rather plush 3 star Best Western and waited for the big day to arrive.
The engines roared and a dry rubbery smoke filled the air like a veil of uncertainess, they were off, the race was thrilling, my friend led from the off, as much as they tried the other drivers could not overtake him as he handled the car like a knight of yore would have handled a majestic steed. The race entered its final moments and my friend was still in front, with only an eighth of a mile left he entered the final turn, known as Grasing Corner, his back wheels came away from him and he spun 360 before coming to a stop. He revved the engine and was across the finish line, but it was to late, his late spin had cost him the podium and he had crossed the line in 6th place.
It was the first time in 15 years that he had not won a race, I met him backstage and he was devastated, he had the look of a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. I placed a hand on his shoulder and he embraced me, through his short breaths and tears of failure he told me that he just couldn't judge the turn at Grasing Corner. I looked him in the eye, he was a great driver but it was clear to me, he didn't understand the Hay-Traction.
(Wed 21st Oct 2009, 9:19, More)