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In a mansion on Niddle Island, off the coast of Bognor Regis, a young billionaire talks to his counsellor.
HHAT: Hello, I’m Ritchie Rich, and despite having everything a young man could possibly wish for, I am sad.
FFF: Well, I am sensing a deep and embedded problem within your life. Something you have probably repressed since childhood.
HHAT types this into the ipod that his parents bought his as a happy Tuesday present and sits up on the leather couch he bought from Northern Upholstery on the one day they didn’t have an ‘everything must go!!!!!!!’ sale.
HHAT: What do you think it is that I have repressed? Could it be that being a millionaire has left me lonely and detached from the world? Could it be jealousy that provokes people to write malicious spoofs about me? Could it be…
FFF: When did you last get laid?
HHAT: Erm…
FFF: Ahh it’s the sex thing… it’s always the sex thing. You’re unhappy because you feel unloved.
HHAT: I had sex last Wednesday, actually!
FFF looks shocked.
HHAT: Yes indeedy, I watched DW beating his meat over the web cam and spurted all over my Gucci trousers. I had to get Graham the butler to wash them for me.
FFF looks disgusted
HHAT: Ahh it was a good night
FFF adjusts his bowler hat and fixes his gaze upon HHAT and a smile spreads across his face.
FFF: You’re gay!
HHAT looks queasy
FFF: A real life homosexual, hahaha! Finally a real gay to mock and ridicule as if there was no tomorrow!
HHAT: I’m not paying you £10,000 an hour to mock me
FFF: *sniggers* sorry
HHAT: So, what can I do to overcome this embedded gayness?
FFF: Well, perhaps invite some limp wrested friends over and listen to village people?
HHAT: Village People are SOOOO passé
FFF: Well, I can invite Barrymore over for you – just don’t go swimming with him!
HHAT: No, it just wouldn’t feel right.
FFF: Hold on, I know just the person.
FFF picks up the phone and talks briefly to someone before adding “Alright, see you soon”
HHAT: Who’ve you invited?
FFF: You’ll see, you’ll see.
After a few minutes of FFF reading a copy of Hustler and HHAT darning some socks, the door to the room creaks open slowly and inside steps none other than English Bloke with nothing but a police hat, a gun holster and a badge clipped onto his bleeding nipple.
HHAT: E-English Bloke?
EB: You’ve been a bad boy, HHAT.
HHAT: Have I?
EB: Yes, and now I’m going to punish you with my truncheon.
FFF stands up and smugly smiles before running to the bathroom to vomit profusely.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
HHAT found his place in life and with the help of FFF found true happiness. It goes to show you can have all the money in the world, but you won’t necessarily be happy – unless you visit a GAY BAR, GAY BAR!
-------- -------
:: Many thanks to HHAT (hope I didn’t offend you), English Bloke (Hope you don’t arrest me) and FFF (This is a living tribute to your gay jokes) ::
------- --------
Thanks for reading.
HHAT: Hello, I’m Ritchie Rich, and despite having everything a young man could possibly wish for, I am sad.
FFF: Well, I am sensing a deep and embedded problem within your life. Something you have probably repressed since childhood.
HHAT types this into the ipod that his parents bought his as a happy Tuesday present and sits up on the leather couch he bought from Northern Upholstery on the one day they didn’t have an ‘everything must go!!!!!!!’ sale.
HHAT: What do you think it is that I have repressed? Could it be that being a millionaire has left me lonely and detached from the world? Could it be jealousy that provokes people to write malicious spoofs about me? Could it be…
FFF: When did you last get laid?
HHAT: Erm…
FFF: Ahh it’s the sex thing… it’s always the sex thing. You’re unhappy because you feel unloved.
HHAT: I had sex last Wednesday, actually!
FFF looks shocked.
HHAT: Yes indeedy, I watched DW beating his meat over the web cam and spurted all over my Gucci trousers. I had to get Graham the butler to wash them for me.
FFF looks disgusted
HHAT: Ahh it was a good night
FFF adjusts his bowler hat and fixes his gaze upon HHAT and a smile spreads across his face.
FFF: You’re gay!
HHAT looks queasy
FFF: A real life homosexual, hahaha! Finally a real gay to mock and ridicule as if there was no tomorrow!
HHAT: I’m not paying you £10,000 an hour to mock me
FFF: *sniggers* sorry
HHAT: So, what can I do to overcome this embedded gayness?
FFF: Well, perhaps invite some limp wrested friends over and listen to village people?
HHAT: Village People are SOOOO passé
FFF: Well, I can invite Barrymore over for you – just don’t go swimming with him!
HHAT: No, it just wouldn’t feel right.
FFF: Hold on, I know just the person.
FFF picks up the phone and talks briefly to someone before adding “Alright, see you soon”
HHAT: Who’ve you invited?
FFF: You’ll see, you’ll see.
After a few minutes of FFF reading a copy of Hustler and HHAT darning some socks, the door to the room creaks open slowly and inside steps none other than English Bloke with nothing but a police hat, a gun holster and a badge clipped onto his bleeding nipple.
HHAT: E-English Bloke?
EB: You’ve been a bad boy, HHAT.
HHAT: Have I?
EB: Yes, and now I’m going to punish you with my truncheon.
FFF stands up and smugly smiles before running to the bathroom to vomit profusely.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
HHAT found his place in life and with the help of FFF found true happiness. It goes to show you can have all the money in the world, but you won’t necessarily be happy – unless you visit a GAY BAR, GAY BAR!
-------- -------
:: Many thanks to HHAT (hope I didn’t offend you), English Bloke (Hope you don’t arrest me) and FFF (This is a living tribute to your gay jokes) ::
------- --------
Thanks for reading.
Page:
http://ukchatforums.reserve.co.uk/
><><> display_messages.php?threadid=90838&forumid=4006
(remove the ><><>)
And I toned it down for this one.
Enjoy.
><><> display_messages.php?threadid=90838&forumid=4006
(remove the ><><>)
And I toned it down for this one.
Enjoy.
FinalFantasyFanatic wrote:
> OPLAR wrote:
> "After a few minutes of FFF reading a copy of Hustler and HHAT
> darning some socks, the door to the room creaks open slowly and
> inside steps none other than English Bloke with nothing but a police
> hat, a gun holster and a badge clipped onto his bleeding
> nipple."
>
> That's just wrong. And completely disturbing.
>
> You've obviously never sampled the ejaculations of my mind.
Erm...wha!? Can I!? Do I want to!? :0P
> OPLAR wrote:
> "After a few minutes of FFF reading a copy of Hustler and HHAT
> darning some socks, the door to the room creaks open slowly and
> inside steps none other than English Bloke with nothing but a police
> hat, a gun holster and a badge clipped onto his bleeding
> nipple."
>
> That's just wrong. And completely disturbing.
>
> You've obviously never sampled the ejaculations of my mind.
Erm...wha!? Can I!? Do I want to!? :0P
Paradox wrote:
> In germany they do.
Oh god...
> In germany they do.
Oh god...
OPLAR wrote:
> "After a few minutes of FFF reading a copy of Hustler and HHAT
> darning some socks, the door to the room creaks open slowly and
> inside steps none other than English Bloke with nothing but a police
> hat, a gun holster and a badge clipped onto his bleeding
> nipple."
>
> That's just wrong. And completely disturbing.
You've obviously never sampled the ejaculations of my mind.
> "After a few minutes of FFF reading a copy of Hustler and HHAT
> darning some socks, the door to the room creaks open slowly and
> inside steps none other than English Bloke with nothing but a police
> hat, a gun holster and a badge clipped onto his bleeding
> nipple."
>
> That's just wrong. And completely disturbing.
You've obviously never sampled the ejaculations of my mind.
In germany they do.
Speedos are just wrong. And they were made for the camp man in a mans-only swimming pool, if such things exist...
I didn't think anything other then, "hmm", needed to be said.
But, how, in 13 types of stretchy Speedos did you come up with this idea?
But, how, in 13 types of stretchy Speedos did you come up with this idea?
Something I'd've rather not read...
yeah, I know.
"After a few minutes of FFF reading a copy of Hustler and HHAT darning some socks, the door to the room creaks open slowly and inside steps none other than English Bloke with nothing but a police hat, a gun holster and a badge clipped onto his bleeding nipple."
That's just wrong. And completely disturbing.
That's just wrong. And completely disturbing.
Page: