June 22nd, 2011 at 7:21 pm by Stupid Rubbish

My old next door neighbour was a real fat sh!tter.

He was an ex pub landlord with a stupid accent and an incredible ability to f*cking incense me into apoplectic rage simply by breathing air near me or walking within my field of vision.

He wasn’t my friend.

And his inordinately fat wife had a collection of tiny stupid dogs that were little more than a pack of badly trained yap rats. They were never walked or exercised properly and they used to wander around the garden depositing sh!ts until it resembled an anti gravity snowglobe loaded with dog’s eggs and misery.

But his wife was also a proper f*cking animal.

She was f*cking enormous, like a n injured weather balloon with an acrobatic tw@tface drawn on it by a sh!tfaced chimp.

A monster.

And what’s worse she had that weird f*cking mental illness that some horrific women get where they imagine that they are somehow really “sexy with it”… you know?

Sexy with it.

Now I’m the first to admit that a larger lady can still be very sexy, that curves are a very womanly feature… and that real women do NOT have the body of a 12-year-old boy. And by that I mean their actual body isn’t shaped like one, not that they have bizarrely killed and hidden an unlucky preteen.

But anyway!

The reality is, is that all too often this over confident sexual blunderf*ck is a 19 stone f*cking BUSFACE with the thighs and arse of an albino rhinoceros that recently shat itself violently.

The legging wearing, giant tee-shirted thunderc*nt that scrapes it’s hair back so hard that it’s face changes shape and texture. Arms like a donner kebab?

Yes. That.

Well this one was worse.

She was all of the above but also a f*cking horrendous bottom dirt of the lowest order.

I once saw her sunbathing and it pretty much changed my life. I was unlucky enough to have needed to climbup on top of the roof of my barn to punch some concrete and w@nk a drainpipe… or something.

When I saw it.

IT.

Like a vision of f*cking nightmare HELL she had just rolled out a towel in the middle of her garden – in a f*cking ENORMOUS SEA of dogsh!t. No word of a lie, she had just found a rough gap and blobbed down into it like an awful f*cker in amongst the stinking mess.

There must have been FIFTY dogsh!ts orbiting her, like tiny stinking planets hopefully worshiping a GIANT UGLY BASTARD MOON. It was like having a f*cking stroke, my vision was momentarily blurred and I was unable to process all the information I was receiving.

She was f*cking topless.

She was wearing only a pair of hotpants and they looked like some kind of tiny denim jewel embedded in an immense and impossibly awful LARD COALFACE.

And that’s when it happened.

As I looked down at her, my gentleman’s peanus withdrawing inside me like a brand new internal organ, she suddenly spat hard onto her own woman tit.

And rubbed it in.

She spat on her own f*cking tit.

f*ck me. Some things in life are not for the faint hearted and some things in life are just things that nobody should see for fear of permanent damage and the kind of trauma that normally is a result of international war crimes and electro shock therapy.

The moral of this story is simple:

f*ck the barn roof.

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