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executioneer Aug 22nd, 2006 02:31 AM

pub the reason i tend to take good photos is cause i have a cameraphone that can take pictures closed, and has an lcd on the same side as the camera so you can see what picture you're taking :(

also i have lots of face muscle practice :(

Pub Lover Aug 22nd, 2006 02:45 AM

Plus you're a really funny guy. :(

executioneer Aug 22nd, 2006 02:51 AM

i like to think so :(

executioneer Aug 22nd, 2006 03:06 AM

a really funny guy with

Pub Lover Aug 22nd, 2006 03:30 AM

:lol

Pub Lover Aug 22nd, 2006 03:48 AM

Well, how to start? A few years ago the New Zealand government for whatever reason legalised prostitution, but of course it had to add a bunch of rules of it's own like any Liberal vipers nest. Having made it half way through my 23rd year & still having failed in the eyes of society to "prove myself a man" by having penetrative sex with a willing woman, I decided to partake in one of the services that my island nation home provides.

Driving into the city I managed to forget my motivation for the trip, lost as I was in the beauty of my fair isle. However as my car crested the hill at the edge of the city, and it's shanty town of poorly maintained shed-like houses came into view stretching all the way from the dingy harbour all the way to the hill top at my side, my premeditated actions didn't seem such a good idea, but before I was able to lose too much of my initiative I had arrived at the brothel.

Inside it had all the looks of a cheap motel, the carpets were frayed and curling up at the edges, the windows were grimy and cobwebbed forcing the internal lights to be on despite the bright winter's day outside. A sullen man with a worse moustache than my own was at the counter, he hadn't looked up when I entered, no doubt because whatever other patrons that miserable hole attracts all know were to go.

Deciding against acting like a boisterous jerk because I hadn't yet started drinking, I switched to my Plan B for dealing with people that I would rather see dead. Posing as the bewildered Englishman that I very probably am, I asked if this was the place where I could endeavour to purchase intercourse with a lady of negotiable virtue. He looked at me as if I had just taken a shit on his face and told him it was candy, so I restated my question closer to how a person would.

With understanding the sullen look returned to the man's face, he pointed up the stairs and I tried to not look at his soiled clothes with disgust as I thanked him. At the top of the first flight of stairs it looked like someone had vomited not only their lunch but one of their vital organs as well, so I delicately stepped around the mess, and carried on up the stairs.

A cardboard sign simply saying "Sex" had been stuck to the second door on the floor, and it was on that I knocked. The door was answered by an angry and rotund Polynesian woman who rudely instructed me to sit on one of the foldout garden chairs inside the room and wait my turn. I hadn't expected there to any other patrons at ten in the morning on a Friday, or even that the place would be open, so the four other men in the room received the full of my disinterest as I studied my shoes and the carpet around them with occasional bursts of hard stares at the ceiling.

If I was to construct a list of the most uncomfortable hours of my life, I would hope to have that fifty-four minutes somewhere near the top. In hindsight the haste with which I left the waiting room was probably equally matched a few minutes later by my haste to leave the... boudoir would be too classy, and bedroom a tad too pedestrian. I think the only word that'll fit is 'sexshop'. I'd describe the actions I took, and the relative positions of the naked & mildly attractive thirty something white woman with a clear drug habit, but it'll be best to say that I left with both my money & virginity intact. With the money I bought several crates of beer, and I enjoyed drinking them immensely. In conclusion, I would rather be drunk and alone than sober with the consequence of whatever.

Pub Lover Aug 22nd, 2006 03:51 AM

OK, so after last time with the shitty brothel, I decided to go for a little class this time.

Rather than being down in the city centre, this place is up the hill in the suburbs. I called ahead to make an appointment and to explain my situation. They were very understanding on the phone and said they could help.

When I got to the address I was a little confused as it looked just like a regular house, until that was I saw the cheesy faux-class matt gold sign in the shape of a naked woman.

Dithering a bit on the driveway it took me a few minutes to get to the house.

I was welcomed at the door by an attractive middle aged woman with too much makeup well applied, and wearing a floor length kimono. She took me through what looked like a cross between a doctor's office and a cloth and bauble shop to the waiting room.

I could feel a tiny part of me on the inside bursting at the seams with laughter from the pastiche of it all, but none of this showed on my well disciplined mask of nervous bewilderment.

She opened the door and there standing with various degrees of nakedness displayed were about thirty high class whores.

All of them an imitation of the Madam, with skill clearly matching age. The contrast of age versus experience most assuredly lost on the patrons which match those of the previous brothel exactly but for income.


Standing in the doorway and taken by surprise I feel myself gaping and silently wishing for a way out of this situation. As the colourful flesh dolls turned their attention on me, the Madam introduced me as 'the young man I was telling you about'.
A blush that had no doubt been creeping up on me since the phonecall sprang full force onto my face.
I consider that to have been the cause of the first giggle.
The giggle needed little help to become a roar of laughter as fingers were pointed and a few not so metaphorical thighs were slapped, with a silent sigh of relief I stumbled from the room with big, hot tears stinging my reddening eyes and the Madam following with her kimono hitched up as she apologised and tried to goad me to come back.
[18:25] Tropical: boooooooooooo
[18:25] Tropical: change the ending
[18:25] Tropical: this time you're a black gansta
[18:27] Pub Lover: As they turned towards me I began to realise something was wrong, pulling out my uzi and my cock, I fired one into the ceiling and used the other to rape then kill each of those bitches till the morning sun turned their death blood from midnight purple to earthy red.
[18:27] Tropical: NONONONONO
[18:27] Tropical: you're supposed to whip out your massive 15 inch cock
[18:28] Tropical: and beat them with it
[18:28] Pub Lover: I like the image of cumming on the ceiling and then raping them with my gun. :(
[18:29] Tropical: i give this story a D-

Pub Lover Aug 22nd, 2006 03:52 AM


Immortal Goat Aug 22nd, 2006 03:52 AM


Pub Lover Aug 22nd, 2006 03:53 AM

Quote:

[19:20] ImmortalGoat inc: was that story you posted in the Serious Homo problems meant to sound like a Kulturkampf story, because you succeeded
[19:20] Lemmysomemoney: It was.
[19:20] Lemmysomemoney: Sort of.
[19:21] ImmortalGoat inc: well, it was more than a sort of success
[19:22] Lemmysomemoney: His style of writing is very simular to my own. Rambling, pointless, and stiupid.

executioneer Aug 22nd, 2006 04:06 PM

i have also had a couple of "near misses" but i don't want to go into great detail on internet :(

executioneer Aug 22nd, 2006 04:07 PM

hahaha "near misses" get it

Pub Lover Aug 22nd, 2006 07:31 PM

:lol

Those stories are not true. :(

Pub Lover Aug 22nd, 2006 07:33 PM

Except the one where I'm a black gangsta, that one is totally true. :(

Pub Lover Aug 22nd, 2006 07:44 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by executioneer
he needs to get a jobby

Haha, jobby is British slang for shit. :(

Chojin Aug 22nd, 2006 07:45 PM

are you sure that didn't really happen

the only thing that prevents it from being believable in my estimation is that i don't think you'd have really left the house :<

Pub Lover Aug 22nd, 2006 07:48 PM

It's not true for exactly that reason. :(

That and I'm a hardcore Christian and having sex with whores is wrong. :(

EVILCAKE Aug 22nd, 2006 08:00 PM

Was it my suggestion of you getting a whore that brought on this serious homo problem? :/ I've tried to talk to him.

Pub Lover Aug 22nd, 2006 08:08 PM

I wrote those stories becasue of your constant tellings of how great you think they are. :(

Pub Lover Aug 22nd, 2006 08:09 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Fartin Mowler
I've tried to talk to him.

:lol

Pub Lover Aug 22nd, 2006 08:09 PM


MetalMilitia Aug 22nd, 2006 08:12 PM

Those where great stories! I'ts a shame they didn't really happen :(

Pub Lover Aug 22nd, 2006 08:15 PM


Pub Lover Aug 22nd, 2006 08:17 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by MetalMilitia
Those where great stories! :(

Thank you. :(

Have you read KultureKampf's work? He'll be mentoring me this summer. :eek

Pub Lover Aug 22nd, 2006 08:21 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Pub Lover
I wrote those stories becasue of your constant tellings of how great you think they are. :(

Whores that is. :x


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