quote:

---

Hi. I've just come out of rehab. It wasn't too bad, apart from begin butt-raped at regular intervals. But even then, I came to enjoy it. I recently got kicked out of the University of Bolton (formerly the Bolton Mental Institute) for dealing drugs in lectures. I'm currently working as an African Bum Cleaner (just to pay the bills, not because I like it or anything). Here is a short account of my time in rehab:

On the first day I was strip-searched. It was OK, until the guy grabbed hold of my d.i.c.k and forced me to sing 'Mary had a little lamb' in a squeaky voice. He said it was to check if I had anything stored in my arse. He then branded my butt-cheeks with the name of my rehab centre (which I'm not allowed to disclose for legal reasons). I was about to leave, but then he suddenly stuck his finger up my arse, and I ended up with a massive erection. He grinned and said "I bet you're enjoying that, " and started feeling around even more. I waited until I couldn't hold on any longer, then I turned around, shot my load in his face, and ran off.

I was then led to my cell, where I met my cellmate. He told me that he liked 's.h.a.g.g.i.n.g men, ' which had me slightly worried, but he told me not to be afraid, as he'd probably attack while I was asleep and it would be over before I knew.

On the second day we were taken into a room, made to sit in a circle, and told to discuss the benefits of mutual m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.i.o.n. I could think of quite a few, but maybe I should have kept my mouth shut, because the teacher, encouraged by my enthusiasm, said 'Right everyone, we're going to put this into practice. I want you and the person next to you to take it in turns to give each other hand jobs.' This was a shock, and our initial reaction was to refuse outright, but the teacher reminded us that if we did not pass this class then we would be stuck in this place for even longer. So I closed my eyes and imagined it was someone else, and it was over within a few minutes.

I woke up the next day with a sore arse. My cellmate was sound asleep, so I guessed he was satisfied. Taking a s.h.i.t was kind of painful though, and I was a bit p.i.s.s.e.d off by this, so afterwards I tossed off onto my cellmate's face and left him there, with my juice drying on his cheeks. I don't think he ever realised, although it may have improved the quality of his skin.

Later, I was in the shower, minding my own business, when a group of big hairy men came up to me. One of them, apparently the ringleader, dropped a bar of soap next to me and told me to pick it up. I tried telling them that I had already been raped earlier in the day, but they would not listen, and one of them grabbed me and held me in position while I was gang-raped by the rest of them. I actually enjoyed it slightly, once I had learned to ignore the pain. After they had finished, I told them I had HIV, contracted from contaminated needles, and that they were going to die a slow and painful death. This took them back somewhat, and they went away quietly. They never touched me again.

On day four I experienced my first detoxing session. They said it was to remove all the crap in my system. I had to put this tube in my arse and lie there while they pumped a load of stuff inside me, supposedly to remove all the s.h.i.t I had accumulated. The thing is, the guy doing it was a bit of a w.a.n.k.e.r, and he kept joking about how 'I must be enjoying having that thing in my arse, ' and 'would I like to come back later and enjoy having his 'tube' pumping his 'fluid' inside me.' I told him that just becuase he had failed in life and ended up on a minimum wage job, and that he would have no money in retirement and have to live in poverty off a state pension, it was no reason to take it out on me, and the world would be a better place if he f.u.c.k.e.d off while he killed himself. He wasn't too sure how to respond to this, so he just said 'f.u.c.k off.'

The next day, we went into a room and were told that we were going to learn about the dangers of drugs. It turned out that this basically involved standing in a circle and chanting 'drugs are s.h.i.t, drugs are s.h.i.t' repeatedly. When this was over, each person in turn had to talk for five minutes about why drugs are s.h.i.t. And the thing is, people were actually taking it seriously and producing proper reasons. I was a bit p.i.s.s.e.d off by this arse-licking, so when it came to my turn I talked about how drugs were the best thing that ever happened to me, and that when I came out of rehab I was going straight back onto drugs again, and if they didn't like it then they could s.h.a.g themselves sideways with a cucumber while they f.u.c.k.e.d off. The 'teacher' was not too impressed by this, and my punishment was to work as a male prostitute (for free) for the rest of the day. Needless to say, I had numerous visits from other inmates (and staff) that day. Afterwards, my arse needed surgery.

---

quote:

---

I am a dynamic figure

I woo women with my sensuous and godlike saxophone playing. I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and cook thirty-minute brownies in twenty minutes. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, an outlaw in Peru. Using only a hoe and a glass of water, I once single handedly defended a small Amazonian village from a horde of ferocious army ants. I play bluegrass Cello, I had trials with Manchester United, and I am the subject of numerous documentaries.

When I’m bored I build large suspension bridges in my garden. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays after work I repair electrical appliances free of charge.

I am an abstract artist, concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie.

Critics world-wide swoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear. I don’t perspire. I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have appeared on through the keyhole and won the gold plaque. Last summer I toured Eastern Europe with a travelling centrifugal force demonstration. I run the 100m in 9.65 seconds. My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles.

Children trust me.

I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick and David Copperfield in one day and had enough time to refurbish an entire living room that evening. I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed several covert operations for the CIA. I sleep once a week: when I do sleep, it’s in a chair. While on holiday in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me.

I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills are all paid. On weekends, to let off steam I practice full contact origami. Years ago I found the meaning of life, but forgot to write it down.

I have made extraordinary four course meals using only some vegetables and a Breville toaster. I breed prize-winning clams.

I have won bullfights in Madrid, Cliff diving competitions in Mexico and Chess competitions in the Kremlin. I have played Hamlet, performed open-heart surgery, and have spoken with Elvis.

For all of which, I can thank my school. heh heh, yea right!!!!!

by the way, I just won Lotto, 4.2 Million!!! Just going on a different holiday every week of the year and enjoying life not worrying about money. Thinking of becoming a professional wrestler.

want to borrow money, wrestle me? Then email me bitch!!

---