Author Archive

Polly Jean

Today I fell in love, obviously, with the fantastic PJ Harvey.


Nothing

I was brought up by my gran. She was a very old-fashioned lady and once told me that ladies did not enjoy sex. Ladies, she said, only had sex to have babies and to please their husbands, who did enjoy it. Even as a child, I remember thinking what a shame that was.

I was nearly 18 before I discovered that women did like sex. It was life changing. And not only were they were enjoying it, they had orgasms too and some, apparently, even masturbated. It was, without doubt, the most wonderful information I had ever received, and nothing could have made me happier.

It still is and nothing has.


That’s Love

As a man, I admit that sometimes I have trouble recognising and identifying my own emotions. Honestly, if I’m not hungry or horny, I don’t have a clue what it is I’m feeling. So when she wants to know how I feel about her, I’m at a bit of a loss.

She definitely makes me feel horny, and she definitely makes me feel happy. Sometimes she makes me feel hungry, especially first thing in the morning but that might be breakfast and I’m confusing her with bacon. Ignoring the hunger then, that leaves happy and horny.

That’s love isn’t it?.


Try This

Next time you’re watching a show with a sign-language interpreter: turn the volume down and imagine that they are describing a series of sexual acts.

It’s hilarious and, at times, quite disgusting. Honestly, I was genuinely shocked at some of things the woman interpreting the lunchtime news was suggesting. some of which I’m sure is still illegal in some southern states.

Ignore the subtitles (but not the facial expressions) as you watch the clip here, and tell me she’s not talking dirty.

 

And she looks like such a nice girl!

Of course, no offense is intended to anyone who has a hearing impairment or who uses sign-language. In fact I’m actually very jealous of all the great sex you guys are having.

 


You DIDN’T Come From My Rib?

Today I fell in love with the gorgeous Lauren Mayer.


The Vagina Tax

MINISTER ONE:   OK hear me out on this. [PAUSE] How about we put a tax on vaginas?

MINISTER TWO:  You want to tax vaginas?

MINISTER ONE:   Well, not the vaginas themselves, just anyone who has one.

MINISTER TWO:   You mean women?

MINISTER ONE:   Well that makes it sound like we’re discriminating. It’s just that these stats show that the owners of vaginas are far more productive and creative, both economically and socially than any other group. It makes perfect fiscal sense. Vaginas are a gold mine.

MINISTER TWO:  It might seem a little fairer if we taxed penises as well?

MINISTER ONE:  WHAT!? Tax people for having a penis!? That is literally the stupidest fucking idea I have ever heard in my life! The fuck is wrong with you!? Seriously!? Tax people for having a penis!? Have you got a brain tumour or something? Listen to yourself man! I mean, WHAT THE FUCK??!!


The Sun Has Got Its Huff On

I’ve decided to only fall in love once a day from now on.

Today it is the gorgeous Helen Arney talking out of her Uranus.

 


Since I Met Him…

I’ve smoked cannabis,
Cheated at poker,
Lied to my husband,
Danced naked under the stars.

I’ve slapped him,
Kissed him,
Told him a dirty secret,
Blamed a fart on him.

I’ve been ticked off by the police,
Seen a hole in the sky,
Convinced some people I was psychic,
Lost £10,000.

I’ve stood up to a bully,
Been a bully.
Been kicked out of a library.
Broken into a cemetery.

Since I met him I’ve
Lost my religion,
Found my faith,
Fallen in love.

It’s been quite an afternoon.

M.


Rotten

I Watched Tim Burton’s Corpse Bride last night. It was delightful and very sweet. I fell in love with Emily here: the titular corpse.

The maggot in the eyeball made for a challenging wank at first, but I leaned into it, and I have to say, I fancy her something rotten.


Signs of summer

Today was the warmest day yet. I saw my first butterfly and heard the sound of the first ice cream van of the year – I hate those noisy bastards, and I don’t like ice cream vans either.


Is this why women don’t stick around?

“i see there’s no milk in the fridge!”
“how can you see what isn’t there?”
“what?”
“if it’s not there, how can you see it?”
“i can see you haven’t bought any bloody milk!”
“how?”
“’cause it’s not there, fuck nuts!”
“i know, i forgot, but what does no milk look like?”
“like no milk!”
“but if it’s not there, how can you see it’s not milk? it might be not eggs that you’re looking at.”
“did you forget the fucking eggs too!?”
“what does it look like?”


Old Gay John

I bumped into an old mate today, someone I haven’t seen in years. He told me that Old Gay John had died. Old Gay John was one of the guys that used to hang around on the corner, way back when I first moved here. He wasn’t gay, we just called him that because he hated it so much. He wasn’t old either or called John.


You give my soul a hard-on

you give my soul a hard-on,
you make my heart erect,
my being throb and pulsate,
my very core erupt.

you make my psyche tingle,
you make my mind inflate,
my life force squirt and dribble,
my spirit ejaculate.


All Sticky

when i taste your flesh,
i want it all sticky.
when i kiss your breasts,
i want them all sweaty.

when you fuck my face,
i want you to stink.
when i lick your arse,
i want you to reek.

when i kiss your tits,
i want to taste your cunt,
and when i lick your lips,
i want to taste my cum.


Just while i finish…

i had to go to the doctor’s today – i hate it, the depression of the waiting room, the risk of catching a cold, all the posters reminding me of all the horrible diseases and afflictions, i could, and probably will end up getting. most of all, i hate the wait. i know they’re busy and the service is stretched, but to be surrounded by miserable looking fuckers, coughing and sneezing over me is just a shitty way to spend the best part of a morning – thank fuck i’ve got minecraft on my phone, at least.

eventually, i get to see my doctor. she is a hot young asian woman, and, thanks to the recent mild weather, is displaying a cleavage that i could happily spend six months in. this makes discussing personal matters rather awkward, and after several minutes watching her staring, uncomfortably, at her computer display, she turns to me and breaks the news. “i’m very sorry mr mew, but you are going to have to stop masturbating.” i’m flabbergasted.
“what?” i exclaim, “why?” my world collapsing around me, “forever?”
“no, not forever, mr mew,” she sighs, almost scowling, “just while i finish examining you.”

 

 


The party

so, the party is in full swing. everyone is having a good time. the music is rocking, the booze flowing and the smoke billowing. i’m playing a game of acid chess with a hot italian chic. it involves no pieces and no board and i think i’m winning. everyone is having a great time, that is until he shows up.

“oh fuck!” i hear someone mutter and i look up and there he is, surveying the revelry. you can feel the atmosphere drain from the room. most of us try to pretend we haven’t seen him, but it does no good.
“quiet everyone!” he shouts, “there’s something i need to say.” as the sound dies down, a few eyes roll as we reluctantly look his way. “i just want you all to know that i love you. all of you.” there is a general murmur and a few ‘thanks mate’ and ‘that’s nice’. hoping that’s it, everyone tries to get back to the fun, but i’ve been here before and i know there’s no chance of that, not now. “excuse me!” he barks, drawing all our attentions back to him,” but didn’t i just say something?” you can almost taste the collective sigh.
“we love to too man.” someone says and the rest of us nod and utter in agreement.
“well then,” he demands, “don’t you think it would be a nice idea if you all starting singing some songs about me, about how cool it is that i love you all so much?” everyone realises that this cunt is way too boorish to be ignored and somebody starts humming.

the italian chic and i sneak out the back, unseen, with a couple of others, and as we’re waiting for a bus she asks me “who was that asshole?”
“oh him,” i say, “that’s god.”


The power of thought

I think of you often.
I think of you,
Long and hard.
Thoughts rise up,
Ideas bubble,
My imagination tingles
With electric visions.
My mind throbs
And then erupts,
Thoughts fly
And flow,
Dribbling down
And over my soul,
Thoughts so
Hot and sticky
I can taste them.


What a cunt!

“cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt. cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt? cunt! cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt… cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt! cunt?”

“and that’s supposed to be what?”

“modern art, apparently”

“seriously?”

“seems so.”

“what a cunt!”


i was born alone

there is no one
i will ever know
like i know me

i am alone

i touch others
and feel their touch
like a bubble

i will be alone

if i can’t love me
then how
can i love another

i will die alone

maybe then i will get
to know me
or not

as the case may be


For the rest of the day

You won’t believe what happened to me on the way to work

Go on?

I bent down to tie my laces, and a crazy woman attacks me!

No shit!

Yeah! She starts slapping my ass, and when i turn to confront her, she pushes me onto my knees and shoves my face between her legs! Then, when I turn to pick up my case, she tries to bum me!

Oh my god! What did you do?

I had a hard-on for the rest of the day.

happy-dance-gif


Demon

they’re a bunch of fucking natives, and they spout all this hippie shit about self-discovery and journeys into my soul and what-not. i nod politely and agree, but just so as to be polite. i don’t want to offend them, but its all a load of crap as far as i’m concerned. i’m here for the trip of my life. i’ve heard about these mushrooms, ever since i started taking drugs. the most powerful hallucinogenic on the planet. the trip of a lifetime. they are legendary and until now, i wasn’t even sure they existed at all.
i look at the pile of goo the old woman spits onto the plate. i understand why she has to chew the mushrooms first. she has been doing this for years, and there are enzymes in her saliva that will break down the mushrooms and prevent me from vomiting too much. novices have died, choking on their own puke, from not understanding this. i have travelled thousands of miles for this trip. i have done acid and psilocybin and peyote until i could go to work tripping on all three. i need more. i need the ultimate trip and, if what i have heard is right, this is it.
i hold my disgust at bay and swallow the muck on the plate. the actual flavour revolts me, and its not her spit, its just the ‘shrooms, they taste like the bitter flavour of hell. they all smile and mutter some dumb native prayer. within minutes the nausea hits me like a tsunami hits a beach hut. they have to hold me up over a large bowl as what looks and feels like everything i ever ate explodes through my mouth and nose. my head erupts and my body shakes and i vomit with such force that i am barely able to hear their stupid prayers. suddenly it stops, as violently as it had started, and almost immediately the hallucinations begin. they are like acid hallucinations at first, shapes forming from random patterns. i see dragons and belly dancers form and disappear from the smoke bellowing from the old man’s pipe. i see a forests grow and die in the plaids of the old woman’s hair, and then the hallucinations take over my vision completely.
i am no longer in their disgusting mud hut but in a large ballroom in a great mansion. expensive and beautiful things glisten all around me. i can still hear the old man’s voice, and he is asking me, with some urgency where i am. i tell him i am in a house. “what kind of house?” he asks.
“a huge house.” i hear my disembodied voice tell him, “a fucking castle.”
“you are both lucky and unlucky.” he tells me, “this is your soul. some people’s souls are tiny little apartments and their subconscious, nothing more than a damp basement, but castles have dungeons, not cellars. you need to go down there.”
‘whatever.’ i think, i’m here to get off my tits, and across the room from me are ten of the sexiest women i have ever seen. they are barely dressed and are dancing and beckoning me to join them. my cock throbs with anticipation. i knew this was gonna be good and i hope that i don’t wake to find that i have wanked off in front of the silly old natives. fuck my subconscience!
“you won’t be able to hear me for much longer,” the old man’s fading voice rattles in my head, “you need to go downstairs. you need to enter the dungeon of your mind. you need to face your demons. you won’t get another chance.” there is something in the urgency of his voice that makes me hesitate.
‘maybe a quick peek’ i think. what harm can it do? these girls will still be here when i get back.
the door is locked with a large padlock. it crumbles at my touch and i imagine that i think i hear him say
“that is all i can do for you.” the door swings open and i am hit with the darkness and the stench. it smells of fear and hate and anger and ugliness. i step into the cold dark horror. almost immediately, terror grabs me by the throat and threatens to choke me. i turn back, but the door is no more. panic smacks me in the face like a cricket bat, and i realise that i have no choice but to descend.
the stairs are rickety and feel like they want to throw me into the unknown abyss below me. i find a candle and light it but its almost like the stink of fear prevents it illuminating anything other than the next few steps. its like fear itself has blinded me. as i descend and explore, doors creak and some slam, inexplicably behind me. i am too consumed with fear to even look back in case those doors too have disappeared. i curse the old man. i scream “you cunt!” at the top of my voice. the echoes ring in my ears for minutes, until I believe the words are for me, and far below me i hear the snarl of a hungry demon that i fear i have woken.
i work my way down the stairs, at times treading on and crushing things that feel horribly human. i dare not look down to see. then i tread on something that squeals in pain and i start. i fall backwards and plummet, god knows how far, and land with a soul-shaking thump on what feels like bones. the candle is gone. pitch blackness, and terror surrounds me and closes in on me like a gang of satan’s hungry children. the howls of desperate rage and pain from the demon become my only direction, and as i crawl away in an attempt to cower, i feel my knees cut open. there are shards of glass all over the floor. i pick a particularly long and sharp one and attempt to regain my courage.
i edge my way, blind, around the wall until i find its door. i piss myself literally as i swing it open.
it is huge and has its back to me but i can see it is horrific. it spins and snarls, and if there was anything left in my bladder it would have fled my body in an attempt to flee. i see the demon is chained but as it turns and faces me, the rage in its eyes has such fury that it breaks its bonds without a single thought.
it knows me, and i know it. trembling, i hold my pathetic shard of glass in my hand. knowing full well that i can never kill such a monster. our eyes meet and we see each other. tears stream from the demons eyes and its chest heaves with decades of non-stop sobbing. i see that despite how horrific this beast has become, that it is me. a forgotten me, a neglected me. an innocent, child me that has been hidden from even my view. giant, grotesque and locked away. growing more ugly by the day.
i drop the weapon, not from fear but from pity. this monster doesn’t need slaying, it needs to be hugged, and nurtured and freed from his prison of lies and hurt.
i wake to find myself still in the hut. the wise old folk absorbed by breaking bad. they hear my sobbing, and without turning, they smile.


Nothing sexier

there is nothing
sexier for me,
than a woman
writing dirty poetry.


Wondering

i’ve got this pedometer app on my phone. its really cool and tells me how far i’ve walked. i guess it works by measuring the up/down motion of each step, i’ve never really given it much thought. until today.

as i was about to go out for a jog, i checked that the app was on. it drains the battery, so i often switch it off if i know i’m settled for the evening. it was on, and in fact it said that i’d walked 3,247 paces already today. now, this was impossible. i’d only been out of bed for 20 minutes and had walked no further than the loo and the kitchen. 3,247 paces is almost two miles.

i checked the times of this supposed jaunt, only to discover that it had happened before i’d even got out of bed. then, it hit me. when i’d woken up, after listening to the news, i’d checked my phone and read my mail. a sweet and sexy friend of mine had sent me some pictures of herself, and i had spent some considerable time ‘enjoying’ them. it would seem that my trusted app is not so accurate when it comes to measuring up/down motions as i thought it was.

now i’m left wondering how many 20 minute wanks have been logged as two-mile jogs. maybe that explains why i’m putting on weight.


Asshole!

you ride me. rising and falling with growing passion and vigour, feeling me drive deeper and harder into you, feeling your lust growing with every thrust

Stop it Kyle! I’ve got ppl here!

your pussy glows with a wet, hungry heat

I fucking mean it. Stop! I can’t touch myself right now!!!

but you will … your thighs tremble and your whole body tingles with delight as you reach down and tighten my collar by a single notch

Asshole!

you see the fear in my eyes and drink it in like strong liquor – your power magnifying your pleasure a hundred-fold – you stare deep into my soul and lap up the helplessness you find there, and you tighten the collar by another notch

I kinda hate you right now!

as my panic rises, you ram yourself harder and and faster onto me, my cock bulging like my eyes, your pussy so wet and hot, it burns. you know you shouldn’t, but you tighten my collar further still. your control over me, so thrilling that you cannot help but scream with such primitive and animal delight that it sets off several car alarms

I told you! I CAN’T touch myself right now!!!

but i know you are
the terror in my eyes is so intoxicating, it sends your mind to a whole new place. and as your orgasm crashes into you like a 100 mile an hour juggernaut into a brick wall, you know you will not let go until you are spent, no matter what.

I fucking hate you! Asshole!!!

did you come?

You know i fucking did!

so who really has the power?

Asshole!
I love you.