Northstander
Well-known member
- Oct 13, 2003
- 14,031
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Caption Competition time.....
- Thread starter Northstander
- Start date
magoo
New member
Oh deer. 
Northstander
Well-known member
- Oct 13, 2003
- 14,031
- Thread starter
- #3
Knightsworld
Well-known member
Two's up
Fourteenth Eye
Face for Radio
Bloody learner drivers
Fourteenth Eye
Face for Radio
when bambi was offered a 3 some she wasn't expecting geoff to be bi !!!!!!
Fourteenth Eye
Face for Radio
DOH!!!!
Gazwag
5 millionth post poster
Traumatised from seeing her mothers death, Bambi goes right off the rails and becomes an escort girl for bi-sexual stag nights
Seagullible
Super Keeper
I had hoped the stories about Brighton Zoo where a joke :safeway2:
SK1NT
Well-known member
no i-deer what he could be thinking
sydney
tinky ****in winky
well no-one can ever say your stuck in the rut can they jervaise
B.M.F
New member
Santa's Christmas Conga goes very wrong
Seagulltonian
C'mon the Albion!
magoo said:Oh deer.
Oh deer, oh deer !!
Northstander
Well-known member
- Oct 13, 2003
- 14,031
- Thread starter
- #15
*awaits the third one*
Tony Meolas Loan Spell
Slut Faced Whores
Does my bum look big in this?
Gazwag
5 millionth post poster
For all those Sound of Music fans:
Doe a deer a female deer
Gay, the third one on the right
Three the some we seem to have
Far its should be out of sight
So La Te Doe Doe Doe (couldn't go any further)
Doe a deer a female deer
Gay, the third one on the right
Three the some we seem to have
Far its should be out of sight
So La Te Doe Doe Doe (couldn't go any further)
Norman Baker suck my lozenge
New member
Why do I always have to caribou.
"coat"
"coat"
On the Left Wing
KIT NAPIER
Just a moose or two or a caribou .... (or a bison cow or so)
The Saga of Eskimo Nell
When a man grows old and his balls turn cold, and the end of his knob turns blue,
When it's bent in the middle like a one-string fiddle, he can tell you a tale or two.
So stand me a drink and find me a seat, and a tale to you I'll tell,
Of Dead-Eye Dick and Mexico Pete, and a whore called Eskimo Nell.
Now when Dead-Eye Dick and Mexico Pete went forth in search of fun,
'Twas Dead-Eye Dick who toted the prick, and Mexico Pete the gun.
And when Dead-Eye Dick and Mexico Pete felt sore depressed and sad,
It was usually c**t that bore the brunt, though the shooting was just as bad.
Now Dead-Eye Dick and Mexico Pete had been hunting in dead man's creek,
And they'd had no luck by way of a f*** for nigh on half a week.
Just a moose or two and a caribou, (and a bison cow or so),
But for Dead-Eye Dick with his kingly prick, such f***ing was deadly slow.
So Dead-Eye Dick with his mighty prick and Pete with his gun in hand
Left dead man's creek for the rest of the week and made for a better land.
By road and rail they blazed their trail, and no man Pete’s gun withstood,
Many a bride who was hubby's pride new pregnant widowhood.
They hit the strand of the Rio Grande at the height of the blazing noon,
And to slake their thirst and do their worst they sought Black Mikes saloon.
And as they crashed through the swinging doors, both prick and gun flashed free-
"According to sex you drunken wrecks, you drinks or fucks with me!"
They knew this trick of Dead-Eye Dick from the horn to Panama,
And with nothing worse than a muttered curse, the dagoes sought the bar.
The women too his tricks they knew, from the cape to the Rio Grande,
So forty whores took down their drawers at Dead-Eye Dick's command.
They saw the finger of Mexico Pete twitch on the trigger grip,
It was death to wait, at a fearful rate those whores began to strip.
Now Dead-Eye Dick was startling quick with lecherous snorts and grunts
as forty arses were bared to view, to say nothing of forty c**ts.
Now, forty arses and forty c**ts you'll see, if you use your wits,
and rattle a bit at arithmetic, that's likewise eighty tits.
and forescore tits is a gladsome sight for a man with a raging stand-
a sight that is rare in Berkeley square, but common in Rio Grande.
Now Dead-Eye Dick had dipped his wick twice on the previous night,
but this he'd done, by way of fun, just to whet his appetite.
his phallic limb was in fighting trim so he backed and took a run,
he made a dart at the nearest tart, and scored a bull in one.
he bore her to the sandy floor and f***ed her deep and fine
and although she grinned, it put the wind up the other thirty-nine.
now Dead-Eye Dick he fucks them quick, so he flung the first aside,
he was having a shot, at the second twat, when the swing doors opened wide
and into that hall of sin and vice, into that harlots' hell,
there strolled a maid who was unafraid, her name was Eskimo Nell.
Now, Dead-Eye Dick who fucks them quick was well into number two
when Eskimo Nell let out a yell and shouted to him "Hi You!"
the lusty lout he turned about, both knob and face were red,
he gave a flick of his mighty prick and the tart flew o'er his head.
with a lustful leer he said "look here, you take your place in the queue:"
"I've got to mate with thirty-eight before I get to you."
but Eskimo Nell she stood it well, and looked him in the eyes,
she gazed at his horn with fathomless scorn as it rose from his hairy thighs.
she blew a puff from her cigarette on to his steaming knob,
so utterly beat was Mexico Pete that he clean forgot his job.
it was Eskimo Nell who broke the spell in accents calm and cool
"You c**t-struck shrimp of a Yankee pimp, do you call that think a tool?"
"If this town can't take that down," sneered she at the cowering whores,
"There's one little c**t that can do the stunt, That's Eskimo Nell’s - not yours"
She shed her garments one by one, with an air of conscious pride,
'til at last she stood in her womanhood and they saw the great divide.
She spread herself on a table top where someone had left a glass;
with a twitch of her tits, she crushed it to bits between the cheeks of her arse.
she flexed her knees with supple ease and spread her thighs apart,
with friendly nod to the surly sod, she gave him the cue to start.
but Dead-Eye Dick with his kingly prick was prepared to take his time
for a whore like this was too good to miss, so he staged a pantomime
he winked his arsehole out and in, and made his balls inflate
'til they seemed to all like the granite balls on top of a garden gate.
he rubbed his foreskin up ad down 'til his knob increased in size,
his mighty prick grew twice as thick, and nearly reached his eyes.
he polished it up with alcohol to make it steaming hot,
and to finish the job, he peppered his knob with a cayenne pepper pot.
he didn't run, he didn't back, nor take a flying leap,
he didn't swoop, but seemed to stoop and advanced with a steady creep.
then he took a sight as a gunman might, along his massive tool:
the careful way he put it in was calculating, cool.
if you've ever seen the pistons go on a mighty c.p.r.
with the driving force of a thousand horse, then you know what pistons are.
or you think you do, but I’m telling you that you've yet to learn the trick
of the work that's done on a non-stop run by a man like Dead-Eye Dick.
but Eskimo Nell was an infidel with a really tough construction;
she'd the strength of ten in her abdomen and a paralysing suction.
her mighty c**t could stand the rush like the flush of a water closet
and she gripped his cock like the chatwood lock on the national safe deposit.
She lay for a while with a subtle smile while the grip of her c**t grew keener,
then with a flick of her thigh, she sucked him dry with the ease of a vacuum cleaner.
she performed that feat in a way so neat as to set at complete defiance
the primary laws and the basic cause that govern sexual science.
she calmly rode through the phallic code which for years had stood the test,
and the facile rule of the classic school in a moment or two went west.
and now my friend, we come to the end of this copulatory epic -
the effect on dick was sudden and quick, and akin to an anaesthetic.
he dropped to the floor and knew no more, his passion extinct and dead,
he didn't shout as his prick slipped out, though it nearly stripped the thread.
Mexico Pete he sprang to his feet to avenge his friend's affront:
his long-nosed colt with a fearful jolt he rammed up her steaming c**t.
he sank it up to the trigger grip, and fired it twice times three
and to his surprise, she fluttered her eyes and sighed in ecstasy.
she leaped to her feet with a smile so sweet, "bully for you," she cried,
"That pistol shot was the best of the lot - at last I’m satisfied.
"I thought you jerks could give me the works," she said in accents cool,
"But I guess I must go to the land of the snow to find me a man with a tool.
"I'm going back to the frozen north, to the land where spunk is spunk,
"Not a trickling stream of lukewarm cream, but a frozen solid chunk.
"Back to the land where they understand what it means to fornicate,
"Where even the dead lie two in a bed, and the infants masturbate.
"Where they'll tell this tale on the arctic trail when the nights are sixty below,
"and it's so damned cold, French letters are sold wrapped up in a ball of snow.
"Back to the land of the mighty stand where the nights are six months long,
!Where the polar bear wanks off in his lair, that’s where they'll sing this song.
"In the valley of death with bated breath is where they'll sing it to;
"where skeletons rattle in sexual battle, and the mouldering corpses screw.
"and so, my friend, when you next intend to go forth in search of crumpet'
"Tell Dead-eye to dip his wick in the c**ts of the local strumpet."
The Saga of Eskimo Nell
When a man grows old and his balls turn cold, and the end of his knob turns blue,
When it's bent in the middle like a one-string fiddle, he can tell you a tale or two.
So stand me a drink and find me a seat, and a tale to you I'll tell,
Of Dead-Eye Dick and Mexico Pete, and a whore called Eskimo Nell.
Now when Dead-Eye Dick and Mexico Pete went forth in search of fun,
'Twas Dead-Eye Dick who toted the prick, and Mexico Pete the gun.
And when Dead-Eye Dick and Mexico Pete felt sore depressed and sad,
It was usually c**t that bore the brunt, though the shooting was just as bad.
Now Dead-Eye Dick and Mexico Pete had been hunting in dead man's creek,
And they'd had no luck by way of a f*** for nigh on half a week.
Just a moose or two and a caribou, (and a bison cow or so),
But for Dead-Eye Dick with his kingly prick, such f***ing was deadly slow.
So Dead-Eye Dick with his mighty prick and Pete with his gun in hand
Left dead man's creek for the rest of the week and made for a better land.
By road and rail they blazed their trail, and no man Pete’s gun withstood,
Many a bride who was hubby's pride new pregnant widowhood.
They hit the strand of the Rio Grande at the height of the blazing noon,
And to slake their thirst and do their worst they sought Black Mikes saloon.
And as they crashed through the swinging doors, both prick and gun flashed free-
"According to sex you drunken wrecks, you drinks or fucks with me!"
They knew this trick of Dead-Eye Dick from the horn to Panama,
And with nothing worse than a muttered curse, the dagoes sought the bar.
The women too his tricks they knew, from the cape to the Rio Grande,
So forty whores took down their drawers at Dead-Eye Dick's command.
They saw the finger of Mexico Pete twitch on the trigger grip,
It was death to wait, at a fearful rate those whores began to strip.
Now Dead-Eye Dick was startling quick with lecherous snorts and grunts
as forty arses were bared to view, to say nothing of forty c**ts.
Now, forty arses and forty c**ts you'll see, if you use your wits,
and rattle a bit at arithmetic, that's likewise eighty tits.
and forescore tits is a gladsome sight for a man with a raging stand-
a sight that is rare in Berkeley square, but common in Rio Grande.
Now Dead-Eye Dick had dipped his wick twice on the previous night,
but this he'd done, by way of fun, just to whet his appetite.
his phallic limb was in fighting trim so he backed and took a run,
he made a dart at the nearest tart, and scored a bull in one.
he bore her to the sandy floor and f***ed her deep and fine
and although she grinned, it put the wind up the other thirty-nine.
now Dead-Eye Dick he fucks them quick, so he flung the first aside,
he was having a shot, at the second twat, when the swing doors opened wide
and into that hall of sin and vice, into that harlots' hell,
there strolled a maid who was unafraid, her name was Eskimo Nell.
Now, Dead-Eye Dick who fucks them quick was well into number two
when Eskimo Nell let out a yell and shouted to him "Hi You!"
the lusty lout he turned about, both knob and face were red,
he gave a flick of his mighty prick and the tart flew o'er his head.
with a lustful leer he said "look here, you take your place in the queue:"
"I've got to mate with thirty-eight before I get to you."
but Eskimo Nell she stood it well, and looked him in the eyes,
she gazed at his horn with fathomless scorn as it rose from his hairy thighs.
she blew a puff from her cigarette on to his steaming knob,
so utterly beat was Mexico Pete that he clean forgot his job.
it was Eskimo Nell who broke the spell in accents calm and cool
"You c**t-struck shrimp of a Yankee pimp, do you call that think a tool?"
"If this town can't take that down," sneered she at the cowering whores,
"There's one little c**t that can do the stunt, That's Eskimo Nell’s - not yours"
She shed her garments one by one, with an air of conscious pride,
'til at last she stood in her womanhood and they saw the great divide.
She spread herself on a table top where someone had left a glass;
with a twitch of her tits, she crushed it to bits between the cheeks of her arse.
she flexed her knees with supple ease and spread her thighs apart,
with friendly nod to the surly sod, she gave him the cue to start.
but Dead-Eye Dick with his kingly prick was prepared to take his time
for a whore like this was too good to miss, so he staged a pantomime
he winked his arsehole out and in, and made his balls inflate
'til they seemed to all like the granite balls on top of a garden gate.
he rubbed his foreskin up ad down 'til his knob increased in size,
his mighty prick grew twice as thick, and nearly reached his eyes.
he polished it up with alcohol to make it steaming hot,
and to finish the job, he peppered his knob with a cayenne pepper pot.
he didn't run, he didn't back, nor take a flying leap,
he didn't swoop, but seemed to stoop and advanced with a steady creep.
then he took a sight as a gunman might, along his massive tool:
the careful way he put it in was calculating, cool.
if you've ever seen the pistons go on a mighty c.p.r.
with the driving force of a thousand horse, then you know what pistons are.
or you think you do, but I’m telling you that you've yet to learn the trick
of the work that's done on a non-stop run by a man like Dead-Eye Dick.
but Eskimo Nell was an infidel with a really tough construction;
she'd the strength of ten in her abdomen and a paralysing suction.
her mighty c**t could stand the rush like the flush of a water closet
and she gripped his cock like the chatwood lock on the national safe deposit.
She lay for a while with a subtle smile while the grip of her c**t grew keener,
then with a flick of her thigh, she sucked him dry with the ease of a vacuum cleaner.
she performed that feat in a way so neat as to set at complete defiance
the primary laws and the basic cause that govern sexual science.
she calmly rode through the phallic code which for years had stood the test,
and the facile rule of the classic school in a moment or two went west.
and now my friend, we come to the end of this copulatory epic -
the effect on dick was sudden and quick, and akin to an anaesthetic.
he dropped to the floor and knew no more, his passion extinct and dead,
he didn't shout as his prick slipped out, though it nearly stripped the thread.
Mexico Pete he sprang to his feet to avenge his friend's affront:
his long-nosed colt with a fearful jolt he rammed up her steaming c**t.
he sank it up to the trigger grip, and fired it twice times three
and to his surprise, she fluttered her eyes and sighed in ecstasy.
she leaped to her feet with a smile so sweet, "bully for you," she cried,
"That pistol shot was the best of the lot - at last I’m satisfied.
"I thought you jerks could give me the works," she said in accents cool,
"But I guess I must go to the land of the snow to find me a man with a tool.
"I'm going back to the frozen north, to the land where spunk is spunk,
"Not a trickling stream of lukewarm cream, but a frozen solid chunk.
"Back to the land where they understand what it means to fornicate,
"Where even the dead lie two in a bed, and the infants masturbate.
"Where they'll tell this tale on the arctic trail when the nights are sixty below,
"and it's so damned cold, French letters are sold wrapped up in a ball of snow.
"Back to the land of the mighty stand where the nights are six months long,
!Where the polar bear wanks off in his lair, that’s where they'll sing this song.
"In the valley of death with bated breath is where they'll sing it to;
"where skeletons rattle in sexual battle, and the mouldering corpses screw.
"and so, my friend, when you next intend to go forth in search of crumpet'
"Tell Dead-eye to dip his wick in the c**ts of the local strumpet."
Braders
Abi Fletchers Gimpboy
"my old deers got the hump again"