External Link/Members OnlyI’m stood infront of the stage at The Griffin on Clerkenwell Road and it’s been done up and looks better than the shithole it used to be and I’ve been here for the past 2 hours looking at a procession of cunts and arseholes 2 feet from my face and I’m thinking that if you were going to commoditise cunts and arsholes then this would be the way to do it. Each one looks more or less the same, punctuated by the odd tattoo and I’ve been trying to read some of them either down the side or thigh or across the cunt. And the girls are all the same pretty much – they don’t vary their style that much either, mostly tanned with names like Carolina, Simona, Lola and Honey and I wonder when girls first started this look – fake tits, tattoos, well groomed, tanned. Girls didn’t look like this when I was at Comprehensive school in the 1970’s. Towie has a lot to fucking answer for.
I’ve had a series of dull meetings this morning – with lots of talk of how we can drive more revenue, optimise the relationships with our clients and deliver greater value for money – which in consultancy speak roughly translates to ‘how can we drain our clients bank accounts more than we already do’. And I came up with a couple of nice ideas, which some of my more mentally challenged colleagues quickly scribbled down in a frenzy and will no doubt be trying to pass of as their own ideas before the week is out.
And I walk out of the Griffin and I’m on my way to Kings Cross and the 6 Stella’s are starting to take effect and I know already that I need to see a hooker who resembles a lap dancer. I’m destined for the Newark Northgate train, but I know I’m going to get off at Peterborough and get a cab to Valentines to see Adrianna, who looks like a lapdancer, is tanned and fit and horny.
And I’m in the cab and heading for somewhere called Fengate and the cabbie knows what I’m up to and probably thinks I’m a dirty cunt, but quite frankly I don’t give a fuck what he happens to think. And we pull up on the road and I don’t see the place, but then he tells me it’s around the back so I pay up and follow the path down and soon see it and I’m in and tell the receptionist I’m here to see Adrianna and she shows me to a room which looks ok and I find myself staring at the bedding wondering whether they change it that often and I’m already naked on the bed wanking my cock when Adrianna comes in looking all chippy, confident, tanned and blonde – and she looks like a lap dancer and she’s on the bed with me and I’m on all fours and she’s pulling my balls up and backwards and telling me what a hooker addicted, cunt and depraved wanker I am and then she is opening a bottle of poppers and I’m taking 4 big sniffs and she is counting down from 10 for each one to make sure that I’m well and truly fucked up and my head is caving in and I feel fucked up already, but it feels good and then Adrianna is spitting and dribbling directly into my gob and her mouth is wide open and she is dribbling saliva like a stroke victim and all the time she’s telling me to keep sniffing more poppers and then she’s on her back with her legs wide open and her shaven cunt and arse exposed, so I’m down on this and slobbering all over it like a mental case and she’s encouraging me with a stream of filth from her mouth and I’m thinking about the cabbie and how he would like to be in here watching this no doubt and then Adrianna has me on all fours again and teasing and pulling my cock and balls and then biting my cock from behind and then she suggests I ring up my missus and tell her I’m going to be late home and I like the sound of this, so I’m on the phone to her having a normal conversation whilst Adrianna is spitting into my mouth or pulling on my cock and balls and all the time, I’m thinking this is awesome. And we finish with me wanking my cock and licking her pussy whilst she has her ‘fuck face’ on which looks amazing and then the spunk is splashing over my hand and stomach and I’m keeling over from too much poppers and I look at my fingers and they are blue, and my face and my lips and Adrianna is reaching for the wet wipes and asking me whether I’m ok, which I am but just need 5 minutes to come round.
Before I know it, I’m out on the street and organising a cab ride back to the station and then I’m in the cab and the cabbie asked me how much it was and how he’d never pay for sex – and this comment fucking irritates me and I tell him to mind his own fucking business, but with a smile on my face and in a banter type way and he’s wearing a Man Utd top and I ask him why he’s wearing that fucking rag as he ought to be supporting his hometown fucking team, and I tell him Alex Ferguson was a cunt – and he doesn’t take kindly to my banter even though it’s mean to be in fun and it all gets a bit tense, but I love ragging taxi drivers especially this one and I look at him with his shaven fucking head and tattoos and no doubt mortaged to the hilt terraced fucking castle and I think he would like to fuck me up. And we arrive at the Station and he’s started giving me the stare, but I hold it ‘cos I’m a real cunt like that, but I’m also smiling at him in a lairy kind of way. And he gives me another look as a get out and I tell him to have a good evening.
And then I’m on the train and heading up to Newark Northgate and I’m looking at some of the cunts sat in my carriage with their merry-go-normal lives, laptops, iPhones, spreadsheets and sales plans – and I think what a what a great fucking life.
