Wives69

Who is the horrible bastard that encoded our DNA to make us want to do one of the most outrageous possible things whilst living life on planet earth. To Find and Love a Wife69. Dont get me wrong wives arent the worst things on the planet but they arent the most friendliest creatures...

"how do you feel about being a wife" i asked sheena. i looked at her as if i was expecting to hear some evil answer from the depths of hell.
"too be honest i wouldnt see it any differently" she answered as if wives69 have never done anything wrong. " how would you feel if you were a wife ?" she asked jokingly, but i was prepared.
"i see wives as possibly the closest thing to the devil on the planet. demon wives. umm they are i dont know thye are kents, they steal, rape , pillage, use, take , take ,take theyre bad news"
i kept mumbling shit, she thinks im joking.

Sheena gets back to work but im still dwelling in the horrible wives ive encountered along the way. She seems happy now, happy that she thinks she has the Wife Power, or the Demons Flame.
"whats the worst thing youve ever done to phil as a wife"
"im not his wife yet, but probably cheat on him , that would be the worst", she seems serious now, the air in the room is heavy its pushing down on my shoulders.
"the worst thing a wife could do sheena is host a tupperwear party in your loungeroom" i countered. we share a giggle and silence. is she plotting against me ?..is she plotting against phil ? what have i unleashed...is it the demons flame?

Colin The Gryate entered the room, "what do you think about wives?", i asked him subtely
"WIVES!, your asking the wrong person about that...my opinion might be too honest" i thought about Colins answer for a bit... could he have slept with the Shedemon himself ? maybe he has experienced the worst of them all, maybe she hosted a tupperwear party at his house and didnt inform him about it and posted it on myspace and facebook and hundreds of Man Slaying she devils just rocked up, his world would have been turned up side down. he was whipped.

Being 'whipped' has been a term used for many years now. The term expresses that when a man who is married eg. Has a WIFE69. who doesnt let him endure events or social activities like watching the footy with his mates, going to the pub, feeding ducks in parks, and she stops you from having sex, and putting dildos up your bum or even share a dutch oven. I have probably been whipped a few times you know take the wife to see a flick and you pay for your ticket and then the whole movie your sitting there like "FUCK, i could have upgraded my popcorn with that money but no, my vagina is getting whipped and waxed again." we all experience these moments, its how we choose to deal with them, thats what really matters.

So what do you do, well its obvious, tell your wife you love her buy her a small but thoughtful gift and say "honey thankyou for all these horrible years of torture and dark art pain but its in my best interest to leave the life of tupperwear parties and starving ducks, and last but not least im gay." she will probably turn around disinterested and talk about your mother in some crude way, and assume she still has you under the thumb then you quickly reveal the Holy Celctic Circle that you had pre drawn around the bed, and the hundreds of kilos of salt that surrounds that evil bitch and BAM, you free. Gay and free.

Wives69 - "why, cause shes a wife"

Losing The Zest

Have you ever woken up one morning and just thought fuck today, and then reasumed your foetal position and just let the ever lasting universal energy flow carry you to the dark & dismal sprialling downward hell of life.

Hell Yes!

Fuck, Sheena & I are feeling the oppressive dark matter of that energy today, But why?
we all live simple lives we go through the basic routines, maybe thats it, maybe its the round round round circle and the same old fucking shit day by day that fucks us up. So whats the cure ?? we ask ourselves

"ohhh fuck a duck" sheena squeals next to me. I look over at her and see a woman, dying, rotting on the inside slowly fading out from her universes energy. I try to think of something to say but...what does she want to hear ? what could i possibly say that will make her feel better ?. i think ok i got it "sheena your pretty fucked up for getting that tattoo". i dont think that was the right thing to say.
she mumbles some more stuff. but then she starts singing and making funny circus noises im smiling, maybe what i said had made her feel a little bit better.
"you know sheena i kinda like that tattoo"
"i like it cause i cant see it" she says followed by many more negative comments, now she fucked up her parcelling and is squealing some more. hrmm maybe i should of just told her that she was fucked up for getting it.

Sheena insists that after 12 she goes a little bit mental, i think we all do. i start getting the vibe that theres a parralel vibe that goes through this certain grid of the earth at this time. What Brings us back ? what makes us go back to do what we do. Do we secretly love it ?. If any of us had a choice i think we would all choose to stay in bed all day today in that foetal position, alone, going down. Occassionally getting up for the toilet or some forrest fruits jam on toast.
But we dont we get up and move forward or backwards or downwards in the end of the day 90% of us are probably losing the Zest in our lives. But how do we get it back?

Go out and hire 20 male prostitute pole dancers to squirt you with a fire hose ? or get some old lady to jump out of a cake and sing you happy birthday even when its not your birthday and then give her 5 bucks to throw some of the cake off her deceased breast that may have died a few dozen years a go and then say something like " you naughty bastard ". No shit like that doesnt get your Zest back its stuff like calling up an old friend or calling up all your friends and having them around for a drink and a BBQ. Or sitting back on a rainy day with a book and a milo with a light just over your shoulder whilst some light tango music plays in the background.
These are the moments that gives our zest the momentum to come back and sweep us off our feet and say "NO!" today i will get out of bed and give someone a compliment and i wont jerk off before 6am and you stretch yourself from underneathe the covers and say "FUCK YOU UNIVERSE!"

Tomorrow, Me and Sheena have decided to have a better day.

Torso Tank

A rebel sport senior salesman has been arrested for possessing weapons of mass destruction. A large tank was spotted just down the coast of Warnbro beach early monday morning. The police released a statement later in the week stating that Beau *jangles* Sines had been caught with two large cannons attached to either side of his tauso. He was released last night when it was established that they were just his large, defined arms.

Colin The Grayte

"Kent Brockman, Kent Brockman !, ...OI KENT!, get off get offff,, get the feck off!", these are often the calls heard from the deep depths of the Back dock, not exchange of mutual convosation but words of vulgar defense.

Colin was the type of bloke you didnt want on your side when you got into a situation where 3 gay guys are putting you in wrestling moves that carson from queer eye for the straight guy had choreographed whilst pouring honey and all other sorts of weird exotic sticky mixtures on you.
"why not ?" you might ask.
Well Colin would be that guy to join in with those violently horny gay men, not because they were gay or because he was gay, or even because there was honey just because they were doing it to me !. ( not that thats ever happened ).
Even if this moment happened Colin wouldnt enjoy it, it was like he was pushed, poked and prodded into feeling this way.

So what does Colin The Grayte do all day all night every waking hour of his life ?...Well he think about stuff like this. There was an ancient myth that Colin's penis was once named by Brucee-dor as Freya the jumping dragoon rattle snake, but freya for short, what they went through or why he called it that is a complete mystery to me. And from that day on it was always Freya and Colin.

Absurd murders were happening all over town at that time aswell.

Colin began acting strangely in his surroundings. he started stealing from local markets and wearing this retro 70's paper bag on his head with the traditional eye holes cut out. ( some say it was just a mcdonalds bag from when he bought some hot cakes one morning. ).
"well thats normal" you may say to yourself but its not why he stole, its what he stole items such as
Dove, body soap
Quatro, biscuits
Faber Castel, colouring sets (textas)
and
Honey Naught crunch bars

not to mention the toy sand castle kits

large quantities of these items missing from all the local stores why was this mad man stealing all these items the whole town was living in absolute fear. there was a crazy 100 year old bastard running around with soap, biscuits, texta's, confectionary and plastic spades and wheel barrows.
who could leave their homes, people began calling up sick to work. there were multiple deaths occuring all over town. people turning up dead covered in soap with a biscuit in their mouths a honey naught bar shoved up their ass and bizarre pornographic hand drawn pictures all over their bodies in texta. Cause of death: multiple plastic spade wounds to the head.

it was horrible to live through these days of my life but i knew i was safe, i knew colin. we all knew Colin The Grayte...at least we think we did.
He wound up being a Famous Lawyer for some subsided Firm, winning many cases in the defense of gay people and wild beasts that roamed our streets. Was this the doing of Freya, was this her doing ? we'll never know until we speak to her one on one. if any one is brave enough
Colin The Grayte was truly a weird feckd up kent...a Kent Brockman.

Dedicated to Freya and Colin

Sindo The Savior

not much to say, bp out, sindo in.
couldnt be more happier.
he's a chronic dancer aswell

Brucee-Dorr

the last image captured of bruce and on the last thing he was seen holding....

"benny infants footwear is up 200% today !!"
.....just one of the many quotes that could be used as evidence to prove that this rare living man/machine exists in the footwear universe.
THE MIGHTY BRUCEE-DORR.
maybe a myth maybe an urban legend too weird to live, too rare to die.
so whats the brucee-dorr's purpose in life, to sell shoes! with ofcourse the ultimate advice and knowledge. Yes i have had the oppurtunity to study under the mighty mans teachings but i have been quite ignorant as his proffessionalism can be sometimes unsurfaced at times when ive walked past and seen a shoe out of place, or around the wrong way. :O
HOW COULD THIS OF HAPPENED i think to myself as all the fears and...and whirlpools and hells and darkness come crashing into me the one man the one machine i truly admired , has screwed up ? was i better than him ? had i surpassed him ? have i ?.

I walk in an aurora beam of light... a laser, pierces my pupil
"ahhhh fuck!"
the bright lights of the store have reflected off brucee-dorrs head blinding me, How many other people had he done this to? , was he aware of this power ?, was he doing it to me on purpose ???
"prick." i thought to myself as i rubbed my eyes. when my vision came to i gazed around footwear. Magnificent...everything in place. shoes around the right way. but there was a problem. a flaw. in the great mans department. No customers. the soul ingredient to a successful brew of his teachings. It struck me the light beams. they had steared the customers away.
"benny do you know anything about this shoe that was ordered in" - oh mi gawwwdd hes talking to me....hes acknowledging me. i looked at him...i observed him his chest hair was growling at me lashing out from the v-neck of his pearl black top. it was fearce. his fanny pack, looked to appear as if it were frowning...but i couldnt figure out why.
"nah brucey boy i know nothing about it mate" i thought about the shoe...yes i did order that in but where are the details...i couldnt remember so i lied...
"must have been butt pirate mate, you know what he's like" we share a giggle, like old pals.
were pals i realised now. the one thing that could bring us closer is the one thing i hate most, and the one thing that could possibly kill me. (disease)...
I thought about bp. his talking parrot, gay. his wooden leg, gay. his eye patch, on his right eye...so gay.
So where do you find this man /machine Brucee-dorr the flying shoe horn.
sometimes theres a little red laser that zooms around...it can sometimes be seen broken down on the side of the road...or you could see the beast riding his bike, some say look its martino , some say look its just brucee-dorr the flying shoe horn...skinny bastard.

8=====D

Blood Nut

The first day of this new bread amongst our already stable crew was rather unsettling, he was surrounded by us as the leader ( DK, aka kent lips ) was dishing out the daily chores, i was looking around at everyones faces observing the Blood Nut, he made quite a fitting resemblence to this figure below. (jokes aside)

Wendys face was puzzled but she looked more interested in him cause of his hair more than anything ill never forget it burning bright, lighting up the room the flame on his head has been said to be referred to the same of the olympic torch...shivers ran up my spine, who is this matchstick boy ?.
Butt Pirate took a rather gay perspective of interest into him , but that was expected.
I looked at him
benn :"oi what school do you go to ?"
carrot top: " warnbro high "

i could barely understand him, he had confused me with two words, was he smarter than me ? no , the burning flame on his head reassured me, ofcourse i was smarter than him, he was just retarded he met all the descriptions of a fit wranger. it made me sick. i consulted beau of the matchstick man , he didnt mind at first and the day went on.

he was ok. for a little bit

day 2 came, "fuck hes here again " i thought to myself. but today i had back up to help me get through the day , sindo had arrived, we made small talk then continued about ronald mcdonald, we thought today we'd torture him. little foot informed me that his mum was the lady at the front of kmart that greeted you and checked your bags on the way out, hilarious. we had some material.
his crazy mum combined with his blood nut attributes made him having a bad day certain.
we would walk past and make comments like
"fuck its cold in here ?" and then warm our hands up on his head when he wasnt looking. we contined with this for awhile as it was the primary joke, he became the kid that everyone hated at school. id pretend to cook toast on his head and always tell him to watch out cause his head might light some boxes and stuff on fire. sometimes i almost wet myself, like when your wee is peeping out.
we'd pretend to be his mum and say stuff like " HI HOW ARE YOU TODAY" *crazily* , i think he had a bad day but we could all easily conclude he was a germ amongst society, he was a tagger, a wranger and he couldnt talk properly. To this day no ones sure where the matchstick man goes, but rumours has it , you can see his tagging on the windows of the train on a cold dark winters night...