STARING AT THE PIRATES FILTHY ARSE

Created: Saturday, 11 March 2006 Written by Poofy Jim

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A hair encrusted hole to eternity. Shitty dregs hover above my nose.

"Now squeal like a pig Jimmy me lad" Oh! What a dreadful voyage.
For days he has had me bound, basted and buggered.

Shiver me timbers - here he comes again!

All over me.

I wanted an idyllic travel round the Caribbean. A flight of fancy. Dreams of me and a boy Friday on the beach snacking on coconuts and greens.

Well, hopefully boy Friday snacking on my nuts...

But it all got off to a dreadful start when I stepped aboard the SS Payback at Plymouth. Rather than being Captained by a favourite son of England we had a bloody Frenchman. Pierre Lalongone. And as soon as we were a day out of land he broke out the Jolly Roger and put the parrot on his shoulder.

Now I am a delicate flower. A sensitive soul. So when he demanded that I should clean his pecker every morning I protested.
"But Monsieur, I don't even know you!"

He didn't take that well. Got the lads to take me to his cabin. I'm tied to his bed; legs akimbo. He can have his wicked way whenever he pleases.


The type of man I hoped to meet on this trip

This ain't no fucking cowboy ride. This guy is a fucking maniac.

So now after fucking my arse red raw he flips me over. He wants me to sooth his piles with an application of an ointment. With my tongue.

This wasn't in the travel brochure. I was promised the trip of a lifetime; not the damnation of a lifetime. I'm as opened minded as the next Red Haired Jim, but this is truly beyond the bounds of reason.

Flecks of green tinged lice crawl round his hole; fissures of blood and pus, and the remains of many fecal expulsions. Looking at Pierre's arsehole I am gazing into hell. Like the end of all things it offers no answers, only the certainty of misery and woe.


When I sleep I dream of a gentle breeze blowing my privates. Something to take me away from this nightmare reality. I am on the beach with the sun shining. My brief heaven.

The days stretch on endlessly and the nights get warmer.

"Boys, we'll be in Jamaica in a few days," says the Captain, "and you'll have all the cunt you want."