on 23rd baker street
As he sat on his desk he realized that he should be sitting in his chair...so he got down and took a seat in the chair...sir Isaac Newton...a famous scientist and a well respected theorist was giving him a lap dance in an effort to prove that it was only due to gravity that this was possible...meanwhile Marie curie was getting it on with James brown...the famous singer. Thus it was that Sherlock Holmes was not too surprised when he opened his eyes to find himself in his bed...and realizing that he was only having a wet dream (more of a wet nightmare but he was into that kind of stuff.) he rolled over and put his arm around doctor Watson’s naked body......
sherlock remembered how tired he had gotten (gotten is rotten english) after last night's passionate love-making. doctor Watson was sound asleep...after the butt-rape that he'd gotten......it seemed only logical for him to be asleep......almost elementary!
The phone rang and Sherlock dug it out of Watson’s ass in order to answer it (they had been using it as a dildo)
"hullo...yes...of course it is I...yes...I am Sherlock Holmes...the famous detective...I tell you...of course I am Sherlock Holmes the famous detective...what the deuce do you want anyway????calling me at such an unearthly hour..................what do you mean it's almost noon? Oh....suck my dick you whore!" Sherlock slammed the headpiece onto the receiver.....then he slammed his headpiece into Watson’s ass...to wake him up.
"By Jove Sherlock...you are insatiable...are you going to screw me in the arse again?" asked Watson rubbing his sore ass.
"Not such luck, my dear Watson...I think we're going to have another case on our hands and it may prove dangerous for me......possibly fatal!'" replied Sherlock
"How do you know?" asked Watson "is it because the temperature of the sun has just dropped by three millideuces and the moon's axis was inverted last night or have your Remarkable powers of deduction informed you that due to the excessive launching of anal vaporous gas-like bombs the world is now becoming a boob?"
"No my dear Watson...I just received a suspicious phone call!"
“Who was it? Was it the commissioner telling you that his daughter has been Kidnapped? Was it morty arty being farty? Was it Gandhi calling to look for his glasses? Who sherly who was it tell me who ha hoo hooble poople hooy?"
"Alas...It was my wife telling me that i should look forward to investigating the matter of my untimely demise when she shoves her new blender up my raging homosexual arse!" "In the good old days I could always kidnap a young virgin......screw her to my heart's desire and then pretend to be a master detective as I would "discover" by using clever yet pointless deductions, that her body has been "cleverly hidden in my bathroom" and blaming Morty arty...I could get out of anything...but you're the first virgin who has led to my downfall......my wife knows too much!"
"What’ll we do sherly...what'll we do huh? What what what?" asked Watson "Elementary my dear Watson......we'll have to kill that old hag once and for all...now suck my dick while i ponder over this tight situation with your pipe in my mouth."
Sherlock could handle a pipe pretty well...he'd even had his ribs removed so that he could smoke his own pipe as well. While he was enjoying Watson’s pipe...there was a knock on the door. After throwing on a bathrobe...he crossed the single room apartment to open the door...he forgot to wipe the semen off his face but nowadays he was hardly recognizable without it! As he opened the door, three bears entered...introducing themselves as papa bear mama bear and baby bear. Mama bear was the one with nine tits and a smaller bear hanging from one of them. Papa bear had a floppy looking dick...baby bear was the one hanging from mama bear's boob.
"I have been informed that you are a skilled professional.....mister Holmes," said papa bear "I’ll get straight to the point...we have been raped, robbed and castrated by a vicious vixen, who goes around by the name of Goldilocks.......we need your help."
"Please have a seat mister bear...I’ll be right with you in half a mo'." said Sherlock and moved over to the bed where Watson was asleep (it was a single room apartment!)
"Psst...Watson..." whispered Sherlock while the bears sat down nine inches away from him, "psst...it's THE bears......hide the golden wig before they find out that I am the notorious goldilocks...and..."
"Excuse me Mister Holmes but I can hear you and anyway......that is my bed that Your naked friend is lying on......and so is the bathrobe you're wearing!" said mama bear to Sherlock "WATSON...QUICK...THE LIGHTS...TURN THEM OFF!" yelled Sherlock to Watson...who quick as a flash turned the switch off...however...since it was noon...it did not do any good and the bears trapped them as they tried to escape. But before they could be eaten Sherlock asked for a last wish.
"Tell me mister bear....I do not understand how you come to be here...this is not my own house...I own a house on 23rd baker street...this is just an apartment that I use to screw virgins in...how did you know that I was here...no one knows about this place...had I been aware that you were coming I would have hidden all this stolen stuff along with your balls from when I castrated you......who told you where to find me?????, since you didn't know that it was in fact me who was goldilocks...so it is apparent that whoever sent you knew that my secret would be discovered if you came here........so tell me...by Jove...tell me who was it?” asked Sherlock almost going into hysterics.
"It was your wife..." replied papa bear and ended the story disappointingly.
Yours truly, Muk2k4 so sleepy in the mornin'
i wrote this story in 2oo4...the dreaded year of the Alevels...the TAT...the beginning of the weirdness...my loose association with materials that should be kept out of the reach of children (if you want them to grow up wearing ties) i really enjoyed writing it...this used to be my wasy of expressing great dislike of everything...it was my way of letting loose a fart so combustible that it eventually led to my mother deciding i needed therapy. hahahahaha...all hail sedatives...that rob us of creativity and make everything seem purtier. no they don't rob you of creativity...it's just that misery sparks creativity...to be quite honest and realistic...it's a sick story...very disgusting actually...i love it...hahahaha...i sent it out to my friends...who prolly never read it...
yours truly,
martin pale
p.s. i signed that story off with "so sleepy in the mornin'" so i assume i wrote it early in the morning...i have smoked random plants growing in cow dung...hahahaha
sherlock remembered how tired he had gotten (gotten is rotten english) after last night's passionate love-making. doctor Watson was sound asleep...after the butt-rape that he'd gotten......it seemed only logical for him to be asleep......almost elementary!
The phone rang and Sherlock dug it out of Watson’s ass in order to answer it (they had been using it as a dildo)
"hullo...yes...of course it is I...yes...I am Sherlock Holmes...the famous detective...I tell you...of course I am Sherlock Holmes the famous detective...what the deuce do you want anyway????calling me at such an unearthly hour..................what do you mean it's almost noon? Oh....suck my dick you whore!" Sherlock slammed the headpiece onto the receiver.....then he slammed his headpiece into Watson’s ass...to wake him up.
"By Jove Sherlock...you are insatiable...are you going to screw me in the arse again?" asked Watson rubbing his sore ass.
"Not such luck, my dear Watson...I think we're going to have another case on our hands and it may prove dangerous for me......possibly fatal!'" replied Sherlock
"How do you know?" asked Watson "is it because the temperature of the sun has just dropped by three millideuces and the moon's axis was inverted last night or have your Remarkable powers of deduction informed you that due to the excessive launching of anal vaporous gas-like bombs the world is now becoming a boob?"
"No my dear Watson...I just received a suspicious phone call!"
“Who was it? Was it the commissioner telling you that his daughter has been Kidnapped? Was it morty arty being farty? Was it Gandhi calling to look for his glasses? Who sherly who was it tell me who ha hoo hooble poople hooy?"
"Alas...It was my wife telling me that i should look forward to investigating the matter of my untimely demise when she shoves her new blender up my raging homosexual arse!" "In the good old days I could always kidnap a young virgin......screw her to my heart's desire and then pretend to be a master detective as I would "discover" by using clever yet pointless deductions, that her body has been "cleverly hidden in my bathroom" and blaming Morty arty...I could get out of anything...but you're the first virgin who has led to my downfall......my wife knows too much!"
"What’ll we do sherly...what'll we do huh? What what what?" asked Watson "Elementary my dear Watson......we'll have to kill that old hag once and for all...now suck my dick while i ponder over this tight situation with your pipe in my mouth."
Sherlock could handle a pipe pretty well...he'd even had his ribs removed so that he could smoke his own pipe as well. While he was enjoying Watson’s pipe...there was a knock on the door. After throwing on a bathrobe...he crossed the single room apartment to open the door...he forgot to wipe the semen off his face but nowadays he was hardly recognizable without it! As he opened the door, three bears entered...introducing themselves as papa bear mama bear and baby bear. Mama bear was the one with nine tits and a smaller bear hanging from one of them. Papa bear had a floppy looking dick...baby bear was the one hanging from mama bear's boob.
"I have been informed that you are a skilled professional.....mister Holmes," said papa bear "I’ll get straight to the point...we have been raped, robbed and castrated by a vicious vixen, who goes around by the name of Goldilocks.......we need your help."
"Please have a seat mister bear...I’ll be right with you in half a mo'." said Sherlock and moved over to the bed where Watson was asleep (it was a single room apartment!)
"Psst...Watson..." whispered Sherlock while the bears sat down nine inches away from him, "psst...it's THE bears......hide the golden wig before they find out that I am the notorious goldilocks...and..."
"Excuse me Mister Holmes but I can hear you and anyway......that is my bed that Your naked friend is lying on......and so is the bathrobe you're wearing!" said mama bear to Sherlock "WATSON...QUICK...THE LIGHTS...TURN THEM OFF!" yelled Sherlock to Watson...who quick as a flash turned the switch off...however...since it was noon...it did not do any good and the bears trapped them as they tried to escape. But before they could be eaten Sherlock asked for a last wish.
"Tell me mister bear....I do not understand how you come to be here...this is not my own house...I own a house on 23rd baker street...this is just an apartment that I use to screw virgins in...how did you know that I was here...no one knows about this place...had I been aware that you were coming I would have hidden all this stolen stuff along with your balls from when I castrated you......who told you where to find me?????, since you didn't know that it was in fact me who was goldilocks...so it is apparent that whoever sent you knew that my secret would be discovered if you came here........so tell me...by Jove...tell me who was it?” asked Sherlock almost going into hysterics.
"It was your wife..." replied papa bear and ended the story disappointingly.
Yours truly, Muk2k4 so sleepy in the mornin'
i wrote this story in 2oo4...the dreaded year of the Alevels...the TAT...the beginning of the weirdness...my loose association with materials that should be kept out of the reach of children (if you want them to grow up wearing ties) i really enjoyed writing it...this used to be my wasy of expressing great dislike of everything...it was my way of letting loose a fart so combustible that it eventually led to my mother deciding i needed therapy. hahahahaha...all hail sedatives...that rob us of creativity and make everything seem purtier. no they don't rob you of creativity...it's just that misery sparks creativity...to be quite honest and realistic...it's a sick story...very disgusting actually...i love it...hahahaha...i sent it out to my friends...who prolly never read it...
yours truly,
martin pale
p.s. i signed that story off with "so sleepy in the mornin'" so i assume i wrote it early in the morning...i have smoked random plants growing in cow dung...hahahaha
posted by Duck at 6:15 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home