A Perfect Day

Yesterday I had a perfect day, a taste of utopia, and I’m going to tell you all about it. Shall we?

It started with a groan; and some sodden underwear and that is the best way to start the day. I hastily put my grundies in the washing machine and scuttled to the shower to wash off the excesses of shame, self-loathing and mini-me’s. After I did this I ambled back to my room and put on my favourite cream suit. Whenever I wear the cream suit, good things happen to me.

Now wearing my cream suit I had a bowl of wheeto’s and psyched myself up for the day. “Come on Fionny, today’s the day the teddy bear’s had their picnic, and you’re a big teddy bear who will be eating from the picnic of success” I said to myself whilst vigorously rubbing my left knee. I put on my favourite feel-good song, Wait and Bleed by Slipknot, to get myself ready for the day. In case you’re wondering I don’t often put my fingers into my eye as I feel pain on a regular basis – like when I stubbed my toe running out of my neighbours back garden after a spot of ‘bird watching’.

I left and shortly arrived at the tube station, hastening onto the tube whilst everyone was still trying to get off and immediately copped an eyeful of some top totty. Oh baby, she had jugs like the Carpathian Mountains. I couldn’t take my eyes off them, and it wasn’t until her boyfriend said to me “Look mate, can you take your roving eyes elsewhere, you’re making my girlfriend feel uncomfortable” to which I responded in parseltongue, forcing another passenger to intervene and usher me off the tube, that I eventually tore my eyes away from the jugs. Oh Daddy like jugs doesn’t he? Yes he does.

On arrival at university I darted to the library and found a nice, secluded spot in a dark corner. It’s so pleasant sitting in the library for extended periods of time as you get to see the absolute conveyor belt of totty that mills through like sexy, vacuous cattle. Whenever some quim sits in my vicinity I enjoy growling softly under my breath and raising and lowering my eyebrows very quickly. Some people have labelled this type of behaviour ‘creepy’ but I think a real man should be able to make his intentions known without feeling bad about it.

Today I was checking out some holiday snaps on Facebook whilst in the library – I believe they were in the album entitled “Thailand ‘13” – and was admiring one particularly succulent piece of meat when said juicy piece of meat has only gone and plonked herself down opposite me! Seizing this opportunity like a crocodile seizes an unsuspecting, but very nutritious wildebeest, I went back to my personal favourite picture (she’s regally resplendent in a red bikini and must’ve been a bit cold which makes the picture all the more eye-catching) and spun my laptop screen into her eye line.

At first she didn’t actually notice my presence (I am unremarkable looking, despite the cream suit) but eventually the incessant clearing of my throat and frantic scratching of my face got her attention. On registering her own voluptuous self, juxtaposed next to my lolling, steak-like tongue she gave me the most inviting look I’ve received. It said: “You are a cretinous piece of shit and if you weren’t so pathetic, flaccid and skinny I’d call the police”. Then she got up and seductively sashayed away, shooting me another one of those looks over her shoulder, clearly inviting me to partake in God knows what activities with her, but unfortunately I had too much work to do so had to let her down.

At about 8 o’clock, after many hours of reading, and many, many unasked for erections, I got the tube home. I put my headphones in full blast and blared out all the lyrics to Blurred Lines by Robin Thick, Candy Shop by 50 Sense(less) and Smack My Bitch Up by Mozart (I think).

Once arriving home I watched four of the latest episodes of backroom casting couch. If you haven’t already seen it, I thoroughly recommend you do so. It’s the suspense and noble deceit of the thoughtful plotline that keeps me coming back. After that I wound myself down by rubbing both my knees. I start off slowly and quite sensually, until I speed it up gradually, eventually reaching a manic crescendo of knee rubbing and parseltongue.  Very relaxing.

It was now getting late, and time was knocking on the door of 11pm so I took my suit off, scrubbed my teeth and got into bed knowing no dream I had could compare to the day I had experienced. It had everything I could want. Image

Heavenly.

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