Got a lift off my mum the other day where I asked her to possibly turn off Radio 1 on the basis it’s pish and she’s mid-50’s so is far too old for a mid-life crisis. Obviously I was told where to go to begin with as it is her car but finally mum capitulated switching to her I-Pod instead; despondently I sat back expecting an hour of Barbra Streisand’s Greatest Hits. However, instead we start half way through a famous RnB(?) song and when the well known artist in question requested clarification as to his mother f**kin name my old dear was straight in with ‘Snoop Dogg!’
Puzzled, I asked why she has this on her library and was told like it was nothing ‘The nice man who fitted the kitchen downloaded me some tunes because I said I liked what he listened to as he worked; he’s black. He even told me I had the perfect wagon for this sort of music - who knew my Yaris is considered “Ghetto”?’
‘He means you’ve got a fat arse mum’
‘What?’ evidently confused.
‘”Wagon” means backside and black men stereotypically like women with big jiggly buttocks so that they shake profusely when dancing’.
‘Cheeky bastard’ immediately flicking back to Radio 1 ‘I did think it was weird he only complemented my car when your dad went to walk the dog’.
I could have left it there but there was definitely a cheeky wee twinkle in her eye when she mentioned him at the outset. With my interest piqued I thought at the very least I could tease her mercilessly about the clichéd fancying of the handyman. It turned sour though as the more I found out the more it sounded like a storyboard for the interracial milf porno’s I watched during my lonely Red Dwarf laden college years.
Unfortunately, and to my shame, a few drinks got the better of me that weekend so I had to search on all the engines I could remember just to put my mind at rest – my dad deserved to know god damn it plus at least the fella would be forced bare minimum to offer a casher if I found anything.
I know with the amount of filth out there any search would have to be quite specific so went with ‘Mom banged in white kitchen horrible curtains’. The last bit was a mistake with the returned images coming back showing various close ups of labia arguably better suited to being attached to a turkey’s chin.
Fortunately after an hour of revised searching there was no evidence of a heavily chained bald, tattooed gent with bulging forearms, wearing nowt but a tight white vest and sport socks, vigorously slapping my old dear’s wagon whilst bent over the new breakfast bar with disgusting lime green curtains in shot and Snoop Dogg urging him to ‘Drop it like it’s hot’.
Unfortunately now every time I visit here I keep getting Mature Dating banners hawking a smorgasbord of presumably desperate females with a shared fetish for wearing thinner/younger women’s clothing.
If there was a bingo card to tick off I’ve currently seen the following:
> A woman in red sat on the bed looking completely p!shed with a glass in her hand seemingly ready to sleep if you spend more than 30 seconds freshening up. The pad of paper on the dressing table could only be there to keep tally and note details of that night’s conquest(s) as it’ll be hazy at best in the morning. Worse, the scabby night t-shirt she hasn’t bothered to even hide under the pillow for the photo would suggest a relationship of her tucking it under her chin, lights off under the blanket sex once you’d foolishly left your toothbrush at hers. On the bright side, the bed looks like a large single rather than a double, so she possibly doesn’t seem to expect folk to hang about.
> A lass in specs who looks thoroughly fed up of her lot in life which would seem understandable as her accommodation seems situated within an asylum. Her face says ‘I’m not bothered if you pump me or not but you’ve ten minutes before I’m going to stick my head in the oven and end all this’. No need to worry about second dates or expensive Christmas presents I suppose.
> A lady in front of an outdoor Wendy House which either means she has kids or is on the equivalent rung of the property ladder as a smelly protestor up a tree. Can’t imagine young kids would be a selling point on such sites but the prior option is even worse – the rhythmic motions of sex usually makes me need a jobby soon after completion and if I curled a Whistle special in there it wouldn’t be safe to return for more than a week even if she opened all the plastic window shutters on the joint.
> A wifey who looks like Stiffler’s Mom’s rough sister but is obviously exceedingly proud of the fact she owns a glazed door whilst her legs are the same colour as the laminate.
> The scariest is Rebecca; I swear yesterday she lived 5 miles away but today it is only 3. I’m worried I log on tomorrow and find she’s now living next door. Worse the available contacts above her went from 1 to 14 in ten seconds so either she’s a proper Schizophrenic or this virus kicking about has decimated Broughty Ferry leaving loads of needy widows. Plus if even the stuffed dog on her bedside table has turned in disgust to face the wall to save seeing up her miniscule skirt towards the growler region who else would want to given paying for dinner and 4 WKD’s is probably a minimum?
Could someone else who has similar search history PM me please to warn as to how many more of these I am likely to suffer as I’m struggling to sit through Alex Jones’ Youtube clips and Jude’s musings whilst allocating the concentration deserved?