Shee Shuu. Ahem… The Sexth Sense.


Girls Just Wanna Have Fun – Starfunker

‎’As I threw her to the ground her buxom bounced with delight, so I gently nudged her face with my foot, leaving her gasp for more…’ Opening line of my new romance novel. The one which I am writing to tie over the folk who want to read more aboot… Schex. Shee shuu. Ahem. Whatever it is that you may call it. Something which is distinctly lacking from the blogaruu. Details, at least. Innuendos might be bouncing off the walls. But details have been stripped bare. Stark. Naked. Teasing. All talk. Little action. (Is this some sort of an innuendo by my sub-brain?! Perhaps. If so… Horrendous! Moving on!) Perhaps it is an Irish thing. Perhaps it was initially so not to look like an ape. Perhaps it was realising your parents, grandparents, younger cousins and all other folk would start to read about your adventures. Perhaps it was out of pure and utter respect for the other parties involved. Ahum. Perhaps all of the above! Perhaps. Who knows. Well. I do. But moving on.

Actually. Staying put. Perhaps I should’ve included more in the book. Perhaps there should’ve been less. Perhaps one did not think that others wanted to read aboot that. Perhaps sex does sell. Perhaps we wait and see what book two holds. Duu. Although perhaps I should set up an alternative blogaruu that tells purely of adventures in that world. Perhaps. Especially as L-Hey seems to be the most sexed up place which has ever existed. Possessing the libido of an 18 year old dude mixed with a 30 year old lady. If it were an animal, its name would be Roger. Highly revved-up engine. Not only that but perhaps all of this is then in turn coupled with the perhaps that you have an odd sense… Ever read the book Blink? When you just know something straight away but you’re not sure how. But you know. You? No? Yes? Kind of the same. Let’s just call it… The Sexth Sense!?! Continue Reading »

Duu. Something? Whatever.


Remember hearing aboot a fussball player for Rangers who burnt his cheek after scrambled egg exploded on him? Or when Robbie Keane somehow injured himself by reaching for the TV remote? Well. Thank funk I’m not a well known fussball player. Both have happened to a certain ape I know. Along with a few more this week. Twisted my ankle by tripping on mud. During a game tonight. But still. Wasn’t actually tackled by another player. Just a big lump of mud. Well done me. Just a minute ago. Almost twisted my knee. In the kitchen. Reaching for some pepper. Twisted my upper body. As opposed to swiveling aboot. Close call. Tweakage. Again. Nearly a well done. On Monday. Pretty sure I managed to re-break my broken toe. When I clipped a loose slab sticking out of a path. Clipped. Tripped. Just as I went to walk down a red carpet. Almost rolled. Well done me. Fun times. Red carpet rolling. Continue Reading »