She will let me do whatever I want with her body.
We both know what she’d done,
They work together at the agency, late nights.
I’ve seen the messages on Wattsapp and I’ve seen the condoms in her purse
At least they had the decency for that
I drove her out to that spot we took the kids last year
It’s quiet and it’s winter, nobody will be there
I could do what I want to her
And she would be willing
We take our picnic basket down to the lake with the American pike in it.
It was put in there for people to fish in it, to bring more visitors to the quiet town.
But it’s cold, cold but clear, frosty, not a single person
So I lay her down on the heather as she starts to undress
Anything I want lads
I find two hollow logs and lay one horizontal under her neck
And another to the small of her back, my favourite part of her.
I take the rope from the picnic basket and start to tie her down
She smiles, she knew I packed the rope.
Anything I want.
Back to the basket and grab the warm honey
I squeeze it all over her body, neck to fanny
Then feet to fanny again.
I lean in for the kiss
I squeeze the rest of the honey into her mouth
She gags, as I grab the milk and chase down the honey with it.
I drag the log the log to the lakeside and let it float.
It is freezing cold still.
Anything I want she said
I find a seat along the bank and sip on my Malt Wine
Watching her as she floats.
The flies start coming for the honey.
I’m on my third cup and the cries are quieting now.
It has been six hours and I know the flies have started laying eggs on her
They are are attracted to the shit and piss,
It was brought on by the milk and honey.
Nice place for baby flies.
It is the next day and she still floats as I sip my coffee now
Her back and legs are all mushy from water and the pike are eating her flesh.
They are after the maggots that are now eating at her fleshy bits
Her eyes, lips, ears, vagina, anus
She is no longer shiny, due to the scaphism
And the blockages to her blood vessels caused by the maggots have brought on early gangrene
She will sleep peacefully soon.
The way I slept last night when she was floating.
Sleepy girl…..
Happy Easter and that.
I believe that this is the one where Jusus got crucified on the Friday and rose up from the dead on the Sunday?
I’m not sure if Easter Monday has any significance, but an extra day off work means that it must be something. I don’t know, my Google searches have come out fruitless.
I’m not religious at all, but I do have a deep interest in all of them. I enjoy the stories that religious books tell, and I absolutely adore the characters it produces. Especially within Catholicism.
I’ve mentioned before that my favourite Patron Saint would have to be Saint Guinefort of France. Hands down, without a doubt.
Guinefort was a greyhound that lived with his Knight owner in Lyon some time during the 13th Century.
Legend has it that the Knight came home from a hard day of knighting. I’m not sure what their job entailed, but I’m guessing it must be a police type thing or maybe secret service.
Anyway, I’m not sure where his wife was, or he may have been a single dad, but he came home one day to find his dog Guinefort all bloody and panting as he entered the front door.
The Knight was fully aware that his newborn son was laid in his crib inside his bedroom and rushed in to check on him.
What he saw next was horrific. The crib was tipped over on it’s side, there was blood everywhere and his baby boy was on the floor in a pool of blood.
In a fit of rage the Knight drew his sword and attacked Guinefort, effectively killing him.
The Knight was distraught, it took a few minutes for him to build the courage to go check on his now dead son.
But when he got into the bedroom, the baby was alive and crawling towards him. Twisted in the blankets was a dead viper. A viper is a type of snake if you didn’t know.
The knight realised that Guinefort did not in fact kill his son. Instead, A snake came into the house and Guinefort saved his son from being attacked by the slithery intruder. The blood and mess was caused by the scuffle the two animals had.
That night, he dumped Guinefort’s body into a well that was across his residence and effectively built a shrine there. He placed some rocks and transferred some trees.
The shrine became a symbol of good fortune for expecting mothers and parents of young infants. So to gain favour with the locals, Guinefort was granted Sainthood by the Catholic Church.
He remained a Saint up until the 1930’s when his Sainthood was taken away by the Church. I’m not why, I’m guessing they feel that dogs don’t deserve to be acknowledged as Saints. A bit rich coming from a denomination that has become almost synonymous with paedophilia.
Bring back Saint Guinefort please.
Gas Cunt
How are you lads getting one? The Coronavirus still fucking up your life?
Under extreme protest, I worked till midnight last night.
I work fucking miles away and I took the car in to work.
I’ve grown weary of the cops pulling me over on my bike. Using my big bike is way more fun, but the whole palaver of removing my helmet and facemask, then taking off my jacket to get to my bag for my paperwork is very tiring and unpleasant. It feels like I’m a Jew in Nazi Germany and the cop is an Officer in the Gestapo didactically shouting at me for my paper. Shut up you cunt.
When I got home at about one, I found that my spot in bed was taken by my seven year old. So after my shower I decided to have my sleep in her room.
I woke up pretty early, at around six and decided to catch up on some news about CV-19. It was pretty much the same shit that was reported the day before and I decided to see what other pandemics this world has had to endure. Swine Flu, Spanish Flu, The Plague, all the usual suspects.
Then I came across an absolute doozy.
Strasbourg Germany 1518.
A wife in her twenties is the laughing stock of her community because she has developed this condition that she is unable to stop dancing.
She would dance a jaunty jig wherever she went and the community believed that she was doing this as a gimmick to avoid the mundane toiling of the type of living at the time.
A few more people joined in on her daily dancing as a pisstake and after a few days they were also unable to stop dancing.
Their dancing was veracious and co-ordinated, so a diagnosis of nerve reactions were quickly squashed.
Their feet became bloodied and bruised and the government only got involved when a few people actually died from exhaustion.
It was absolutely mad, and it spread to many parts of Europe. Thousands of people died and it was only stopped when they went to see some Shrine thing on some mountain and each person who suffered from it was given some red pointy shoes to wear.
Nobody knows what the actual fuck was happening there, but Germany and many of the other countries who were affected by this, had just come out of extreme famines. Maybe it was some sort of mental illness. It is registered as a true pandemic called Dancing Mania.
I’d rather have Coronavirus than that shit.
Coachella 1518
Cheers, go fuck yourselves.
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