Porn Fairy
The mythical nymph that delivers crumpled and stained pornography to pubescent boys. The Porn Fairy leads its followers on a wild and wonderous treasure hunt, hiding its bounty of slightly soiled jazz mags in hedges along secluded country lanes, in dark alleyways at the back of the corner store, and, for some reason, in the park by my mate's house.
After a while, you develop a killer instinct for tracking down the Fairy's wares, and swoop like a hawk on any stray pieces of coloured paper that catch your eye. This often lasts into adulthood, resulting in fully-grown men who can't pass a bin without a quick rummage, and who will vault over fences and chase through fields after that distant piece of glossy that invariably turns out to be nothing more than a discarded Sunday Mirror magazine.
MUTINOUS ENTRY-CRASH FROM AN EDITOR: Seriously dude, Porn Fairy? Are we going to have entries for White Dog Poo and Spangles reminiscences? There’s a fine line between whimsical memory jogging and tired out old stand-up routines that are such lazy comedy cliches they have in themselves become lazy comedy cliches. What next- "Was Mr. Benn gay?" "Is it me or were Cadburys Crème Eggs a lot bigger when we were kids?" JESUS. Log and Phil, my fellow eds, I’m looking at you in a tutting type way.
After a while, you develop a killer instinct for tracking down the Fairy's wares, and swoop like a hawk on any stray pieces of coloured paper that catch your eye. This often lasts into adulthood, resulting in fully-grown men who can't pass a bin without a quick rummage, and who will vault over fences and chase through fields after that distant piece of glossy that invariably turns out to be nothing more than a discarded Sunday Mirror magazine.
MUTINOUS ENTRY-CRASH FROM AN EDITOR: Seriously dude, Porn Fairy? Are we going to have entries for White Dog Poo and Spangles reminiscences? There’s a fine line between whimsical memory jogging and tired out old stand-up routines that are such lazy comedy cliches they have in themselves become lazy comedy cliches. What next- "Was Mr. Benn gay?" "Is it me or were Cadburys Crème Eggs a lot bigger when we were kids?" JESUS. Log and Phil, my fellow eds, I’m looking at you in a tutting type way.
written by Mr*Bere*, approved by Phil
If you're going to publically ridicule my post, can you at least take my name off it? I can't believe I come and visit a playground on the internet, and I get picked on by the big kids. Twats.
written by Mr*Bere*, approved by Susan
And another thing, like you'd include "you killed Jesus" if it hadn't been submitted by someone off the telly. Back-slapping bum-sucking bastards.
written by Ol* Smo*ey, approved by Susan
NOW HEAR THIS. I WILL NOT TOLERATE UNPLEASANTNESS TO THE CONTRIBUTORS. IF IT'S SHIT, IT DOESN'T GO IN. WE DON'T PUT ENTRIES IN, THEN TAKE THE PISS. MUCH. SUSAN. SAY YOU'RE SORRY TO DYFRIG.
written by Jo* Bl*th, approved by Phil
Um, I'm sorry Dyfrig. I have now realised when you abuse others, you are only abusing yourself. My bad. If this was really school, now would be the time when the teacher revealed my parents are divorcing, or I've been bullied for not starting my period yet, and everyone would go "aaaaah" in understanding. Shall we all hug now?
written by Su*an*Tobac*o, approved by Log
No, it's too late. One of my real life friends has seen this, and my internet ridicule has become real world ridicule. The only course of action left to me is to tell my parents that I'm doing my homework, and hang myself in my bedroom. You'll be sorry then.
written by Mr*Bere*, approved by Log