New year.

So it’s the start of a new year, the start of another trip around the sun and a time at which people make resolutions as to improve the person they are and take a step toward the person they want to be. Now I suppose it’s a lovely idea, making a promise to yourself, but what is the point if you’re not going to keep it? Furthermore, why must we wait for the turn of a new year before we decide to change something about ourselves?
I don’t make New Years resolutions. Seconds, hours, days, years. They’re all man made ideas constructed to give structure to the way in which our planet travels through space. What is it about a new year that makes people want to mend their ways? If we can see something we don’t like about ourselves, then we should change it immediately. Improving yourself as a person makes you feel better about yourself, and if you’re happy then everything seems so much better.
Now, I’m not saying I disagree with New Years resolutions. In fact, I think they’re such a good idea that they’re worth having much more often. Every week perhaps? It’s easiest to take things one step at a time, so each week, look back on what you’ve done, pick out the good things, even write about them if you want. Then take a look at the bad things. This way you can think about how you could avoid these bad things in the next week. Of course, some bad things are unavoidable, but if you improve something small about yourself every week for this whole year, then you will have a much more successful year than if you stick to just one resolution.
We can’t all travel the world or win medals or become famous. But we can all help people around us and make their days a little bit better. If you in a bad mood, try keeping social exposure to a minimum. If you’re in a good mood, don’t be afraid to show it. If you’re out and you see someone struggling to carry their shopping bags or a pram up some steps or even a piano, offer to help. There’s no reason not to. Do your own thing, regardless of what other people think. You’ll eventually make like minded friends and you’ll be happier. You don’t have to be an over the top flamboyant nuisance or the person who gets ragingly drunk every weekend to compensate for social anxiety, or the person who lies about themselves in an attempt to make people like them. Just do what comes naturally. Most people don’t appreciate fake people, unless they are fake people themselves.
Anyway, enough of that. Go and fulfil your resolutions and have a great day.
Thank you for reading- CC

Read at your own risk part 1.

I’m going to apologise in advance for this story, along with its spelling errors and multitude of inside jokes. Most of it as written at 2am, and by two authors. Me and Manof.

I can’t tell you how it happened. It’s a story that’d turn the stomach of even the most twisted sinner. All I can tell you that I’m standing here, looking over what used to be the great city of London, and what I see is a writhing mass of hate and intolerance. Why? Well, you can thank the leader for the destruction of your beautiful country. You can thank King Wobbly Willy.

They never saw it coming. The people in their houses, living on their cloud of chips and black cabs could never have guessed what would come from the darkness. On that day it all happened so fast. First came the sirens. A few people made it to the subways, but it didn’t make a difference. When the raids started, we knew it was too late.

At first, it look as though we had a chance. The military had far more men than they did, and their tanks and weapons were more powerful than the enemy had first anticipated. But once the Willys saw our advantage, they sent more men, more then we could deal with. It was horrible, penises everywhere, we named that day Sausagefest. Then, when we thought it couldn’t get any worse, they sent Kong Wibbly. Never did I think I’d see a penis in my life that was big enough to stomp a building into oblivion. Anyway, now there’s just a few of us left, the resistance. We don’t fight to take power back anymore, we simply fight for our survival, the survival of mankind.

We keep our women hidden. They wouldn’t stand a chance. Us men have to hunt for the salty scraps left behind by the legions of willies. Hunting is risky, but we manage. We have one advantage over King Wobbly and his men. They can’t read maps like we can. We survive in the tunnels. But a few of us are sick of living like this. It’s time to step up. Time to fight back! We know very little of those that could help. But we hear they are called… the Bumholes.

There’s no hard evidence, it’s all quite flaccid. But from what we’ve heard, these creatures can sort of… Open up, and swallow willies. It’s just legend, but it’s all we have. From what we have learned, the Bumholes are hard to bargain with, and to find them we have to travel to a place far away, a dangerous place. A place called Mirehouse.

This is the story of three brave young men, willing to risk their lives, their innocence and their bum virginities to save the world. Andrew, Connor and Liam. A story of bravery, of adventure, of hope. But most of all, a story of penis.

The elder of the resistance sent them away with a few supplies; some unsalted peanuts, some vinegar and some johnnys and sent them on their way. Their valiant steed, the blue flash, waited for the threesome at the mouth of the tunnels.

Andrew stepped on the accelerator, eager to begin what was to be the start of an epic journey. By the time they left the tunnels, they were travelling at about 400mph. First, there was a great flash of blinding light. They had never seen it properly before, the sun. They had only felt it’s filtered and limited touch after having spent their life in the tunnels. It seemed harsh and blinding at first, but then as they grew accustomed to it, it was gentle, welcoming, almost liberating. They may have been about to undertake a suicide mission, but just to come out of hiding for a short time was enough to make the whole thing worthwhile.

The streets seemed surprisingly empty considering the stories they had been told. 30 long minutes passed and not a single Willy was in sight. Andrew slowed the blue flash outside a building next to a large yellow M.
‘Food time.’ He said with a grin.
‘But it’s not safe! We need to stick to health and safety like my nose sticks to the inside of Tony’s colon’ said Liam in a squeaky, high pitched voice.
‘Lighten up Liam, I’m sure there are some fresh johnnys in the bathroom. You go and scavenge them, me and Andrew will raid for food.’ said Connor brightly.

Andrew and Connor went into the kitchen, everything was slightly dusty, but it was though the willies hadn’t touched any of the food, probably due to the high quality of it all. Whilst Andrew and Connor were filling rucksacks full of burgers and chips, they heard a scream. “Is something wrong with Liam?” Asked Andrew, slightly worried about his fellow adventurer. “Nah, he sounds like that all the time” replied Connor, who had a face full of apple pie. 5 minutes passed, and there was still no sign of Liam, so Andrew and Connor headed to the bathrooms to see if they could find him. When they opened the door, they were met by a sight which truly horrified both of them.

There were so many of them. It seemed obvious now. The bathroom! Where else would all the willies hang out? And there, in the middle of the veiny, pulsating crowd, trousers down, blood streaming from between his cheeks was their once almost respectable friend. The one thing keeping any form of soul in his ginger shell was now gone completely, along with his bum virginity. There was nothing they could do. Andrew’s cat like reflexes at full throttle today, he whipped out a condom and inflated it. He wiped the lube from his lips and flicked his hair back from his eyes in a boyish, sexy style. He brandished the balloon like johnny like a sword while Connor threw frozen fries from behind.

“GONORROHEA” cried Andrew, has he charged bravely into battle. The willies erected themselves, Andrew had never seen a Willy in all its wobbly glory before, but it was far bigger than he expected. The room of willies now towered over the two adventurers and the cripple, but this did not deter them. As Connor threw frozen chips with deadly speed and accuracy, and swung into battle, mustering upon all of his strength to cut down his dangerous foe. After what seemed like hours of gruelling combat and anal bleeding, the last willy was beaten into flaccid submission. Andrew turned to Connor and they did a triumphant bro-fist, then they realised, where was Liam?

They followed the trail of dark reddish brown blood to a dark corner by the sinks. His face on the floor, his gaping bum hole in the air, silent tears rolling down his placid, empty eyes lay Liam, his ginger hair now white with the trauma.
‘Is there anything we can do for him?’ asked Andrew sadly.
‘Maybe we can take him to the Bumholes? They might be able to fix what they’ve done to him?’ suggested Connor.
‘Right! Maybe they could sewn him a new bum on?’ nodded Andrew, pretending he knew what he was talking about.
‘We’ll have to be fast though, he could bleed to death and make a real mess of your car if we don’t hurry.’ said Connor, pulling on some plastic gloves and approaching what was left of his friend.

Connor picked up the dripping body of his friend. His bum hole and been raped beyond all recognition, its lipless mouth quivered and slavered, his cheeks glistened like wet leather, it wasn’t looking hopeful. They but some newspaper down in the back of the blue flash, and lay Liam in the boot. He didn’t have long left, and Mirehouse was a couple of hours away, but hope is a powerful thing. Andrew and Connor climbed back into the car and set off again at high speed, they needed to make this journey fast. A few hours passes, with the occasional groan from Liam, but apart from that they were not hindered. Until they came across a small town, willies were everywhere. The sound of anal groans must have brought them out, Andrew stepped on the accelerator, thinking that the best solution was to speed past their enemy. His skilful driving got them past a few willies, and round a couple of tricky bends, but as they were about to leave the town, Andrew lost concentration, and when speeding up drove into a particularly large Penis. The car span, blood splattered everywhere, everybody inside was thrown around and shocked. Once the wreck came to a stop, Andrew tried to start the car again, but to his horror, it was buggered. Time and time again the engine coughed and spluttered, before coming to a dead stop. Was this it? How could our intrepid heroes and Liam continue with their epic adventure?

That’s when they heard it. The lumpy horn sounded, shaking the ground around them. The Willies stopped in their tracks to look up at the hill behind them. There were just a few, but it was enough. The Willies stepped back in horror as they spotted the lumpy skinned tribe known throughout the nation as the Syphilees. Their rotten skinned soldiers charged at the Willies, driving them back through sheer horror. No Willy wants to feel the scabby hand of the Syphilees.

The adventurers were safe from the savage attacks of the Syphilees, for the Syphilees only attack willies, as it is the willies that the Syphilees originate from. Long ago, when the willies had just established themselves as the dominant species on earth, a terrible disease struck them. One by one, the willies turned, their skin faded to a rotten brown, they began to violently itch, and patches of their skin would decay and cause the willy to become nothing but a putrid sack of itching genitals. To stop the spread of this vicious disease, King Wobbly Willy decreed that all infected willies would be moved to desolate parts of the country, away from large populations of willies. This meant that the Syphilees became lonely and upset. Their charging towards willies is often mistaken for vicious and jealous attacks, when really, all they want is a hug.

To want to hug a Willy is to truly be alone. The adventurers waited for the crowds to clear. The Willies had disbanded completely, but now they had to find a new mode of transport. Andrew’s mad mechanic skills just weren’t enough this time. Connor picked up the gaping friend and the three found a nearby garage. They took shelter by a large sheet.
‘We’ll have to rest here for the night’ said Connor, setting Liam down.

As Connor laid Liam down to rest, he realised the magnitude of the task ahead of them. They still had another 300 miles or so to go, and no transport. “I’m not sure about this anymore Andrew” said Connor, voicing his concerns. “Don’t worry, I have a plan” replied Andrew, who had a reassuring smile on his beautiful face. “What’s your plan? It better be good, because we’re in quite a willy pickle at the moment. We don’t need a plan, we need a miracle” Connor was growing slightly irritated now, Andrew never did seem to grasp worry very well. “Seriously, just get some sleep, and make sure Liam doesn’t drown in a pool of his own anal blood. I have some business to attend to” Andrew seemed confident, so Connor found what solace he could in this and set about tending to Liam, and Andrew walked out of the garage. In the small hours of the morning, Connor was awoken by banging, and turned to find Andrew still hadn’t returned. Had the willies attacked? Was Andrew Okay? Connor rushed towards the banging sound, which led him outside. He opened a door, and saw something he couldn’t believe.

A huge wooden penis, with Andrew standing on top of it, it had four huge wheels powering it, and a big hole in the end. “Ahh!” Shouted Andrew, “I see you’ve come to admire my work!”, “What on earth is this?” Asked Connor, confused by the… Strange, sight he had stumbled upon. “This, my friend, is our ticket out of here. It’s a 40ft long, 724 BHP penis. I call it, the Mobile Operational Base Erection Ender – Dick. Or, M.O.B.E.E. Dick. It has 4 wheel drive for off road capabilities, a head shaped battering ram, and a milk cannon at the end.” Connor just stood, astounded by Andrews engineering prowess, and utter stupidity.

‘All aboard! We’ll ride this thing all day, then we’ll get to the Bumholes!’ Shouted Andrew triumphantly. Connor Dropped Liam into a large sack hanging on the rear end of the MOBEE dick and they set off. The MOBEE dick was fast. Faster than anything any of them had ridden before. Soon they were screaming. They wanted to stop, but they knew it was what they had to do to save Liam. No, to save the world. They rode long and hard until finally they reached Climax. Climax, of course, was the name of the settlement deep within Mirehouse in which the Bumholes reside. They dismounted with a sigh of relief. It’d been a bumpy road.

It wasn’t like anything they had seen before, there were no willies, no Syphilees, nothing. Not even the occasional pool of semen you often saw in other settlements. “Right” said Connor, “we don’t actually have a specific location for the Bumholes, just this riddle which forms part of the legend surrounding them. “If it is us Bumholes which you seek, you must look between the mountain peaks. Our land is not that which is high, it is in the valley where we lie” Andrew and Connor thought about it. “Of course!” Cried Connor, excited about having solved the riddle. “They’re Bumholes, so they’re obviously going to live in a crack of some sort, a crack in the land is like a valley!”. “Why you’re a genius!” Cried Andrew, “But where is this valley the riddle speaks of?” All they could see for miles was flat land. “Well maybe it’s not a literal valley, think what else it could mean.” Connor had a point, just telling you to look in a valley would be too obvious. “Well, a valley is an area between two higher areas, so I suppose it could mean an emotional low, or a low point of something?” And that’s when they both realised. Suddenly, a stunned look covered both their faces, they both looked at each other, then down to the Liam. “A low point in our adventure was Liam getting bummed, and he’s a low point of the resistance!” Said Connor, surprised by the strangeness of the situation. “Yes,” replied Andrew, “But how will he help? We know he can’t do anything himself, and his bum hole has been ruined. I hate to say this Connor, but I think we’re at a dead end”. When suddenly, something amazing happened.

First, there was an almighty bang, which knocked Andrew and Connor down. Then, Liam’s limp, leaking body started to rise up and shine brightly, as though he had been invoked by some holy spirit. “I suppose it’s about time we revealed ourselves” said a loud and commanding voice, a voice like thunder. “We are the Bumholes, the holy council whose assistance you seek” Connor squinted as he stared up, amazed, at his friends shining corpse, “So it was you, you’re the location of the Bumholes, almost like a host?” “Almost,” replied the voice, “We lie dormant in all men, but not all men have literally opened themselves up to see us. The combination of a strong sense of hope and a gaping bum hole has awakened us in your friend, and allowed us entrance into your world”

‘LIAM! BEND OVER!’ shouted Andrew without thinking. As though possessed, the limp body of their friend twisted and then bent so his head was touching his knees. Then a miraculous thing happened. Creatures started pouring out of his loose, flappy bum hole. Some were small and fuzzy, some were large and bald, some smelled bad and some were quite clean. Thousands of them. Eventually, the stream thinned and stopped all together until finally one large, crowned creature with a big fuzzy… what resembled a beard emerged. Liam’s body erected itself and floated back down to the floor. The king lay him face down on the road and stuck a hot poker into the gaping portal.
‘We will never be cast back into that rancid realm again!’ shouted the king triumphantly as Liam let out one last squeal.
‘What realm?’ asked Andrew, so used to Liam’s girlish screams that it didn’t occur to him that his friend was dying.
‘It’s the back end of this realm. The nether region. The land on which the sun does not shine. We will never go back.’ said the King Bumhole.
‘Do you have a name, your… hind-ness?’ asked Connor.
‘They call me Old King Colon. Leader of the Bumholes. We lost the great war against the Willies. We fought in the raging fight but we were no match. We were bummed, and cast into the realm behind.’
‘Old King Colon, would you join us in battle with King Wobbly Willy? He’s ravaged our lands like a testosterone fuelled beast, and what little chance we had was thwarted by the beast under his control, Kong Wibbly.’
‘Ah, don’t you worry about Kong Wibbly. That MOBEE dick that brought you here? That is part of an ancient prophecy among our people. Only the chosen one could assemble such a magnificent disguise. A perfect replica of the enemy with a built in milk canon. Kong Wibbly has only one weakness. Breast milk. It’s full of lady hormones that will make him melt away.’

And so, our two and a half adventurers needed a plan. Now they had the Bumholes on their side, but they alone were not enough, and they still needed enough breast milk to kill Kong Wibbly. “right” said Connor, with a look of concentration on his face. “You Bumholes should head to London, and make a camp on the outskirts. That way you can get a good feel for your combat area and time to prepare. Me, Andrew, and Liam will go and find the breast milk needed for the milk cannon. Old King Colon looked confused, “Where will you get such a huge volume of breast milk from?” “We’ll just go and collect from all the women we have left” Said Liam, the thought of having an excuse to suck nipples had obviously perked him up. “No,” said the old king, “I have a better idea…”

“Close your eyes” he said. The adventurers obeyed and when the opened them the king was holding out a large sheet of toilet paper with some lines scrawled on it. Liam took the paper. “It’s a map!” Liam said, masking his disappointment at having had his nipple sucking fantasies crushed.
‘Where were you keeping that map anyway? You don’t have pockets…’ asked Connor.
‘Yeah, why is it all slimy, and what’re those chunks?’
‘Never mind that now! said the old King. ‘This map leads to Mammary mountain. It is said that there is a well at the top that will grant any man who can reach it with an infinite supply of whatever liquid he wishes. But the mountain has a guardian. The legends tell of a fearsome, cave dwelling creature. It feeds on the flesh of 12 year old children. Its name…. is Snoil.’

No sooner had the king finished explaining the legend of the mountain and it’s terrifying keeper, the two and a half men set out on the long and arduous journey to mammary mountain, and the king lead his legions to the outskirts of London. As excited as our young heroes were, there was a growing sense of tension as the inevitable battle for mankind grew nearer.

“I can see it” came a shrill and piercing voice from the boot, “And why am I still in here?” Andrew and Connor had decided that Liam would benefit from being in the boot rather than travel in the seats so as to avoid any risk of being punched or shouted at for being irritating. Connor and Andrew looked up. A huge, round, supple mound of earth eclipsed the setting sun on the horizon. A lone tear ran down Andrews cheek, “Beautiful, isn’t it? Reminds me of myself”. Connor, having a sharp sense of humour replied, “What? A massive tit?”. As they got closer, they saw a little wooden shack sitting of the bottom of the mountain. It was guarding what seemed to be the only practical way up, so they headed towards it. Andrew pulled the M.O.B.E.E dick up next to the shack, and Connor went down to investigate. As he stepped onto the ground, he slipped on something, and hit the floor with a huge crash. “WHO’S THIS?” Growled a lion like voice from inside the shack. Connor pushed himself up, he had slipped in something slimy and pungent. He inspected the foul liquid, and to his horror, it was shquet. He fell down again, panicking, he couldn’t regain his composure on the vile liquid stew he had become a part of. The voice sounded again, “Ohh, I suppose you’re here for the magic of mammary mountain? Yes, I made that mistake once too. I asked for something to help catch my victims, and now look!” The voice started to crack, as though upset, and Connor heard squelchy footsteps heading towards him from inside the shack. “ANDREW HELP” Connor cried, still trying to escape the slippery grasp of the liquid. Andrew ran down the M.O.B.E.E, and straight into the puddle. “EUGH YOU DIRTY LITTLE BASTARD” He shouted as he too fell victim to the shquet. The footsteps continued, then crying. Suddenly, a huge, round figure appeared from the shack. They could smell him before they saw him, and the sight that met them was one that even the hardiest of poo fetish addicts would be sickened by.

Bare feet with three inch long, thick, grimy yellow toes nails stood in a pool of shquet. A variety of fungus grew between the curled toes. Stumpy legs topped these disgusting feet, half covered by an overhanging roll of flab covered in a patchy growth of wiry, curled hair. Man boobs bigger than Andrew’s head sagged down to the creature’s waist. Beefy arms stuck out on either side, each thicker than most trees. The creature lifted them and let out a wheezy roar. The smell pillaged their nostrils and melted their nose hairs as they both gagged. This just seemed to please the monster. Atop two dozen chins sat a tiny mouth full of sharp little teeth which he bared in what could be read as a smile. It’s eyes seemed none existent. Just two black holes under a deep brow and a mop of shining greasy hair. It appeared the only piece of clothing present was a greyish yellow sumo wrestlers nappy.

The creature stepped closer. ‘You’re not the first two to come for the well. But none ever get there. I was the first, and I’ll make sure I’m the last.’ It stepped closer once more, the Earth shaking with each tremendous step.
‘HEY SNOIL, YOU FORGOT ABOUT ME’ shouted a squeaky voice from behind the two adventurers.
‘AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII’ shouted Liam, jumping from the roof of the car and into a flying kick.
‘YEAH, GO LIAM, GET HIM’ came the cheers and encouragement from the shquet bound duo. The monster didn’t see it coming. The kick connected. Time seemed to slow down. There was a ripple on impact, and Liam’s squeals echoed around the small canyon. The ripple went all the way through the beast, then all the way back, hit Liam and sent him flying into a wall. Gasping for breath Liam managed to make out the words ‘If I …did real… karate… you’d be dead!’

The force of the hit knocked Liam out, and succeeded only in further enraging the beast. It walked towards Connor and Andrew, they had but seconds until it was close enough to get them. They needed a plan. Andrew scanned around the room, desperately trying to find something they could use, but to no avail. They were doomed, destined to be eaten by the horrible gelatinous mass that was the SNOIL. That is, until Andrew searched his pockets.

Connor closed his eyes, he felt a hand drag him across the floor, and into a slimy pouch next to his fellow doomed companion. Had they been eaten? Connor did not dare open his eyes for fear of seeing something most disgusting, when he felt a hand tap his shoulder, a familiar hand. He opened his eyes, and to his amazement, him and Andrew ere inside the beast, but remained unharmed from his inner workings. “How on earth have we been this… Lucky?” Asked Connor, still not quite able to believe his eyes. “Well when we were raiding for food, I found some condoms, so I opened one up before SNOIL ate us, and got us both inside so we can simply pass through his digestive system.” It wasn’t often Andrew had good ideas, but this one had just saved their bacon. “So what do we do now?” Asked Connor, worried about the lack of entertainment. “We wait”.

So that’s what they did. They waited. The sound of a rumbling stomach and the stench of dried shquet on their clothes was the only thing they had besides each other. This was not fun.
‘We can’t do this. There has to be another way!’ Andrew said, on the brink of insanity.
‘Andrew, it’s been a minute.’ Connor said, knowing this was just the beginning of Andrew’s complaining. He had the attention span of a fried foreskin.
‘Connor, there has to be another way. I can’t wait another second in here.’ Andrew said again.
‘You just said that!’
‘Did I?’ asked Andrew puzzled. He also had the memory of a toasted scrotum.
‘You’re right, there has to be another way out.’ said Connor, giving in.
‘Why did I come in here anyway?’ Andrew asked himself. Suddenly the thin slimy shield was tossed to the other side of the stomach violently.
‘This can’t be is, unless the shquet speeds up digestion…?’ said Connor. Another jerk and the stomach juices around them began to rise rapidly. They were going up! They fell out of the monsters mouth and the impact split the condom. They were safe, and back in the stinky battle field. But why? Had Liam helped them out? No, he was still passed out in the corner. Then who? They followed the roars to where the beast now stood, in full combat with a man. His afro bounced as he swung his katana with one hand and threw a boomerang with the other.

They both looked amazed. “Is that…?” Andrew closed his mouth so as to prevent any shquet from his face entering it. “TAKE THAT YOU DIRTY GREAT BASTARD, AND THIS ONE’S FROM SIMBA YOU FUCKING SCRUFF” “Yes” Connor and Andrew both said at exactly the same time. It was as they both thought, it was Michael.

The beast circled the newest warrior, forming a ring of shquet around him. Now he was trapped, he had to fight the beast, hand to shquety hand in this brutal liquid arena. The beast did not hesitate once it had formed its arena, it reared its ugly head up in the air, saliva dripping from its agape jaw, and cried a cream curdling battle cry, though the warrior did not flinch. He struck quickly, and plunged the katana straight into the beasts mungly underfuddles. The beast cried once more, this time with pain, and tried to smack the brave adventurer out of the way. He quickly dived out of the way of the attack, and launched a powerful boomerang attack aimed at its head. Unfortunately, the beasts head was so sticky, the boomerang became lodged. Then, before you could say, “Oh god, this story is filled with endless micro-climaxes and bad puns, I’m giving up”, Connor leapt over the side of the ring, into the air, and onto the beasts great, dirty head. He grabbed the boomerang, but the lumbering oaf he was now riding was so sweaty and disgusting, there was no grip. Connor tried firmly planting his chin into the beats head, but only to have his chin covered in shquet. Connor passed the boomerang back to Michael, who threw it once more at the beasts head. Connor then ran into the beasts stomach and punched it right where it hurts, in the feels. The great thing let out one last almighty cry, “GRAWWHHHHHHHHH”, Then fell heavily to the ground, causing huge tremors, and invoking great triumph into the hearts of the men.

The warrior Michael retrieved his katana from the leaky folds. The dying beast let out a growl akin to a motor bike as it drew its last breath
‘He’s Mufasa’s problem now.’ he said, bowing his head in a serious manner.
‘MICHAEL! What’re you doing here!?’ shouted Andrew, joining his friends. ‘We all assumed you were dead!’
‘I’ve been wandering for a few years now. It’s not just London. The Willies just came here first. They’re all over the world! Their navy is unbeatable too. I’ve never seen so much seamen. They need to be stopped.’
‘It’s ok, we have a plan. The King is in London and we have The Great Squash on our side, and army of Bumholes. And his beast can be defeated by breast milk. That’s why we’re here.’
‘But.. why are you here Michael? What do you need from the well?’
‘Well.. I-‘ the answer was interrupted by a high pitched groan from the corner.
‘LIAM’ the three shouted in unison as they remembered. They ran to him.
‘Liam, are you ok?’
‘No.’ Liam said as though he were refusing to play his guitar.
‘What’s the matter? You look fine to me.’ said Michael disdainfully.
‘My wrists are sore.’ said Liam, a tear rolling down his freckled face.

And so, after recovering from the gruelling battle the had just gone through, the heroes headed to the peak of Mammary Mountain. It took many hours, and much restraint not to hit Liam, but after what felt like weeks, they reached a small well at the top. “Now if I remember rightly, we all have to surround the well, look into its watery depths, and think about the thing we want the most”. All four of them linked hands, took a place around the well, and thought as hard and as passionately about breast milk as they possibly could. Then, something amazing happened.

The ground started to shake, liquid started flying up out of the well and all around the confused men. Hundreds of thousands of litres of liquid surrounded them, and then it started to move, apparently animated by nothing. It started to pull itself together, into little… Lumps, then those lumps into bigger lumps. This continued until the liquidy mass resembled a familiar human shape. A shape, just like Tonys. Everybody slowly turned to look at Liam, with glazed, angry looks in their eyes. Andrew spoke through gritted teeth, “Liam… What, is…. This?” Liam seemed confused. “you told us to think of what we wanted most?”

‘Wait.. come to think of it, couldn’t we have done this one by one? Then we would have gotten four wishes and not one. And this one’s been tainted by Liam! We did not think this through.’ said Connor with a face palm. Liam approached the breast milk Tony cautiously. He then licked the clotted milk man.
‘This well was a rip off! Tony is much creamier than this.’
‘WAIT! What’s the legend again?’ shouted Andrew, as yet another brilliant idea popped into his surprisingly small head.
‘It is said that there is a well at the top that will grant any man who can reach it with an infinite supply of whatever liquid he wishes.’ Connor recited.
‘Then that’s the answer! We have an unlimited supply of clotted breast milk Tonys! We can build an army! And unending army!’
‘Andrew. That’s a stupid, terrible idea. I love it.’ said Connor, as per usual.

Memories

Memories, the windows to the past. A memory can make you feel happy, sad, lonely, make you want to dance in the street or even make you want to curl up in a ball and cry. Our memories are what make us who we are. Some memories we want to erase, but without bad experiences we don’t learn. Some memories are painful. Memories of an old lover can reignite the heartbreak you felt as you parted. But they can just as easily make you remember the happiness you felt when you were with them.

Recently I have been thinking about life. For me, everything changes next year and I will move away from this town that I have called home for nearly 5 years. I have been searching my memories, reliving the happy days I have spent here in this town I once hated. I remembered the earlier days of pizza on Sundays with friends who I have lost contact with now. I remembered the days I spent by the sea skimming stones, the days I spent climbing and talking and joking with friends, days I spent walking and thinking and training by myself. I remembered the good and the bad. Living here has had it’s ups and downs. It’s been a bumpy ride, but here I am. And if I look back on it I just see a straight road. I remember the bad, but I don’t dwell on it. I see them as ways to improve rather than things that make me weaker.

I want others to be able to look back at their memories and see where their road crossed mine and smile. I want to be a good memory, and that’s why I decided to go back and take are of loose ends before I leave. Anyone I’ve upset in the past over big or small issues, I have gone to and apologised. I don’t expect them to apologise. I don’t even expect forgiveness. I just want them to know that I feel bad for whatever it was that upset them. That way, I can move on knowing there was nothing more I could do. Now instead of being bitter about the sad memories, I can remember people for the happy times we had together. 

Growing up does weird things to you, and I wouldn’t recommend it. But taking the time to apologise, even years later for upsetting someone can really make them happy, and it’ll make you happy too. Anyway, that’s enough from me for today. Thank you for reading. -CC

Strange thoughts

Do you ever just let your mind wander? Let it loose to ponder the mysteries of the vast universe, the wonders of the world or the complexity of the human mind? Isn’t it fantastic to think these things? Coming up with theories about how a black hole may be ripping matter out of this universe while a quasar is shooting matter from another universe into ours, wondering what it would be like to feel the spin of the planet, thinking about the existence of a creator and plotting out arguments for and against. Yes, you can entertain yourself for hours with such thoughts, but do they always have to be such big questions? It’s just as easy, and generally much more entertaining to ponder much less important things.

Have you ever wondered why it is socially unacceptable to be naked? Animals do it all the time. You can’t suggest it is human nature to cover yourself, because if you visit a beach in Turkey or a similar country, you will see hundreds of people in the bare minimum of clothing, if any at all!
How about what it would be like if someone in the street licked your face? Have you ever thought about that? What would you do in that situation? What can you do in that situation? Lick them back and talk backwards until they leave?
Have you perhaps ever wondered what cows would look like if they had toes? Would they stick out from under their hooves like their udders from their stomach? What would they taste like in a stew? And how strange would it be to feed a cow it’s own milk? Is that the equivalent of a woman drinking her own breast milk?
Have you ever wondered what it would be like if your feet were hands? You’d be really handy, you could make the best sheds in the world. I can imagine walking would be quite difficult though, I’m not great at walking on my hands.
Have you thought about what it would be like to be made of nipples? You’d be all lumpy and sensitive. Alternatively, what would people look like without nipples? To make a person made of nipples, you’d need a lot of nipples, so the people who originally owned the nipples would just have smooth chests! And what about belly buttons? They’re just a hole in your stomach plugged by a knot of skin!
Did you know some people fill animals with helium? Most people find it disgusting, but I just think ‘Whatever floats your goat.’

Maybe it’s time to stop. If you have any strange thoughts, like who was the first man to drink milk and what was he thinking when he did it, then please leave a comment. I’d like an insight into the minds of others, if only to clarify that I’m not insane for thinking such things. Thank you for reading. -CC

Stay positive.

Today I met an Argentinian girl of 14 years with a blood disease that made her life incredibly difficult. Her Mother had recently died and she didn’t have many friends. Her story was really sad, but you know what? She was such a happy person. She was content with life. She shared my opinion that life is what you make of it. Pick up on the good points and not the bad points and you can stay positive, even if your situation is dire. This girl inspired me. She consolidated in my mind that you can be happy no matter what.

You might think from here I would say ‘your problems are small compared to this, so you shouldn’t worry’ but the fact is that your problems are big to you and that’s just as important. It doesn’t have to be a terminal disease or awful living conditions for it to be a problem to you. It could be a series of little things that’s getting you down, like it’s raining outside and you left your umbrella at work/school yesterday, or your friend didn’t smile at you today or maybe even that your pet goldfish you won at a fair last week died this morning. If you allow things to build up you could end up really down. I sympathise with you. I’ve been known to let things build up to the point that I couldn’t cope any more. If you don’t allow time to be happy every day, sadness will pile up like water against a dam. If that dam breaks, it lets out a colossal, unstoppable wave. And that’s not fun for anyone.

Once a day is all it takes.You’d be surprised at the power behind a smile. The action of smile is linked to the feeling of happiness. If you feel happy, you smile. Everyone knows that. However, a lot of people don’t know it works the other way around too. If you force a smile, you feel happier. Smiling is a really great way to make other people smile too. Do you not feel happier when you’re with someone who smiles a lot? A lot of people, particularly men, seem to think that they look better when they’re not smiling. Some people hate the way they look when they smile. But smiling is one of the most attractive things you can do. If you like someone, or if you are in love, do you not think that the person looks just that bit more amazing when they smile? I would assume this is because when someone smiles at you it is difficult not to smile back, and as I’ve already said, smiling yourself makes you feel happy. Smiling at other people will make them smile back, so you’ll be spreading happiness, which will make you feel even better!

Another way to make yourself happy is to do something a bit different with your day. Something you can be proud of, a random act of kindness, make a new friend, take up a new sport, dance in the street and see how many people you can get to join in, give money to a homeless person, make someone smile. Little things like that can really perk up your day and make you feel better about whatever has happened that might make you sad. Stay positive like this and you’ll soon forget about your worries. If it’s a bigger problem that won’t go away, then they’ll make it easier to deal with at least. I personally feel happy when someone reads one of my posts. So by reading this, you can feel better about yourself already, because you’ve put a smile on my face. Thank you for reading. -CC

A long distance relationship.

I’ve known you for three years now. We met in the most unlikely way, and though you live so far away the seed of friendship  slowly became a healthy young sapling. Remember how we used to talk to each other every few days about little things? Finding excuses to make conversation that would easily take up my entire night. Watering that little sapling. It seems strange that we nearly let it go, the distance and our workloads getting in the way of our simple conversations that made me so happy. It got to a point when it felt like it’d been too long to start talking to you again. I’d see you were online and I’d wonder if you even remembered me. Our poor little sapling was drooping. But one day, by chance, a friend mentioned you. If he hadn’t, we may never have become what we are today. I think that, but then.. I was crazy about you back then. I would have found an excuse to talk to you eventually. I’m sure of it.

Considering how slowly our seed had become a sapling, the speed at which that sapling grew into an incredible little tree. Still the distance separated us, a five hour time difference making talking difficult at times. But I always made time. I’d stay up all night long if it meant I’d get to speak to you that bit longer. Soon I didn’t even need to ask if we would talk again soon. You’d just reply ‘of course, silly.’ with a smile that’d leave me with pterodactyls in my stomach. You became a huge part of my life, I’d think about you all the time and tell my friends about you so much that they’d just roll their eyes when I mentioned you. They knew I was smitten. Probably better than I did. One day, we realised it was foolish to pretend otherwise. We were a couple, just as much as any two people who’re not separated by an ocean. Our tree flowered at last. A beautiful cherry blossom tree, grown on the inhospitable foundation of distance, and flourishing like nothing I’ve ever seen.

And now you occupy my mind at every available opportunity. I know you better than I’ve known anyone before. Your smile is the single most beautiful sight on this Earth, and believe me, I’ve seen a lot in my time. Your eyes make my heart dance and my stomach attempt acrobatics and everything about you makes me ache for your lips against mine. The sound of your voice makes me happier than any music ever could. I miss you when I can’t talk to you, and I want more than anything for you to be here in my arms. It would be foolish to deny it at this point. I am totally in love with you. Completely head over heels. So my path is clear. I will jump the hurdle that separates us. I would do more than cross the ocean to be with you, my love. Never doubt that. Just thinking of the adventures we will share makes my very soul resonate with happiness. Though I’ll never forget the things I will leave behind, I will gladly move on from them. The next chapter of each of our lives starts with the coming Summer. From then on, it will be one book, not two. Written on paper made from our beautiful tree which grows stronger and sturdier with every passing day. I love you. Nothing could ever change that.

To anyone reading this, never let anything or anyone stop you from being with the one you love. Just make sure you know it’s love before you do something crazy. Thank you for reading. -CC

Stress.

We take life one day at a time. Some days are more significant than others and some days make you want to put your head under the wheel of a monster truck. But you know, we can’t spend all our lives looking forward to the things to come. If we did that, we’d never enjoy the days we have to go through to get there. Enjoying the little things in life, such as a new bag that makes carrying your ridiculous work load that little bit easier, is much better than getting worked up about the bigger problems, like the fact that you have a ridiculous work load to conquer. There’s always a bigger thing to work towards. There always will be. That’s why it’s so important to take life as it comes.

Cortisol is a hormones that inhibits your immune system, meaning you are more prone to infection. Stress, among other things, triggers a response that releases cortisol into the blood and this is why stress can make you ill. Stress can come from all aspects of life, and if you don’t allow yourself to relax then your cortisol levels will remain high, which will make you more likely to be ill, which will make you more stressed because you’re missing out on work you need to be doing. However, if you let yourself enjoy life as it comes you will be much less stressed out. Say for instance, you’re working toward getting a promotion. If that is the main focus of your life, you’ll spend more time working for it, you’ll feel more pressured to be accepted for the new role and you’ll be unlikely relax until you get the job. And if you don’t get the job for some reason, you will be incredibly upset. However, if you don’t make it the focal point of your life, if it is one thing on your plate and you allow things like a smile from a pretty lady to make you happy, then you won’t get stressed and you won’t mind as much if you don’t get the job. You can still work hard without over working yourself.

I hear people complain about life all the time, and I do know life can be hard. But when you’re sitting with your friends during a break and laughing about some stupid joke, just look around at their faces. It’s hard to imagine a better scene. Life goes on, whatever may happen during it’s course. Be happy with what you have, and make the most of it. You might not have it forever. And you’ll certainly miss it when it’s gone. I’m coming up to a huge life decision that will involve leaving everything I know to be with someone I love. It’s scary, of course. But instead of worrying, I’m enjoying the remaining time in this small town with my friends and family. Nothing lasts forever. So enjoy it while it’s here.

Now I know the holidays are coming, so please try not to stress about presents you haven’t bought yet, or cooking a roast dinner. If you celebrate Christmas  then enjoy the break, enjoy the time with your family and relax. If you don’t celebrate it, enjoy the break, have a great time and relax. Whatever the case, make the most of it. Thank you for reading. -CC

The moonlit cairn.

384,400 kilometres away, the lunar satellite hangs, reflecting light from our nearest star. Mystery surrounding this satellite continue to arise as we find out more about that incredible rock. Evidence that the it is hollow combined with the fact that no natural satellite can be hollow raises questions in the scientific community and among conspiracy theorists. But one thing is never disputed. Sitting in the sky, a shining white marble, casting it’s pale blue light over land and sea, it truly is beautiful.

In one tiny corner of a country in a tiny region of this magnificent planet, the moon’s gentle glow was tragically missed by all but two men, walking with purpose through a desolate village in the dead of night. The bitter cold air gnawed at their fingers and faces as the sound of their footsteps, the knocking of their bags on their backs and their laughter broke the otherwise deafening silence. Looming in the distance under the bright moon was their destination, patiently awaiting their arrival. The Cumbrian fells, capped with snow, serenely overlooking all of Cumbria. The two men arrived on the other side of town at the foot of the road that would take them part way up the fells. Due to subzero temperatures and a substantial amount of rainfall the day before, the road was lethally icy, made worse by it being continuous rises and falls rather than a straight road. Cautiously, the two men made their way along the road, switching their torches on. Every two minutes or so, one or the other would slip until finally, the road claimed it’s first fall.

I lay sprawled in the icy road looking up at the night sky. My torch had fallen a few feet away, and the sound of static and indistinguishable human voices emerged as the built in radio was jolted into life. As with any fall, my initial reaction was to laugh. Once Manof walked over to my radio/torch and tuned it into a classical music channel though, I couldn’t stop. I realised how ridiculous this would look to anyone who might have driven past at that exact moment. A tall, lanky man with a scarf wrapped up to his eyeballs and a bobble hat looking down at a man in a long coat lay awkwardly over a backpack on a frozen country road laughing hysterically for no apparent reason, with Arensky’s serenade playing quietly in the background. The classical music gave us an idea though. Since walking was clearly getting us nowhere, we decided to slide along the road like the worlds least balanced ice skaters to the end of the road. (I generously put us into the same category as ice skaters. I think in reality we were more akin to Kermit the frog on a unicycle during an earthquake.)

We reached the end of the road, which is the start of the foot path up the fell, ending our fun on the ice. The foot path was much less frozen. In fact, it was about four inches of thick sludgy mud. The path very nearly engulfed Manof’s shoe more than once, and the noise of the suction from each step was the only noise for miles, other than that of our immature laughing at the unorthodox noise. Eventually, we followed the footpath out of a wood and onto an open mountainside, peppered with snow. The cairn at the summit in sight, we ascended the final stretch of our journey. Upon arriving, we unrolled our sleep mats and sat down to admire the view. To the South shone a ring of lights, the factory Sellafield being it’s source. The air around seemed to quiver as though a heatwave had struck the area, giving the lights a mysterious shimmer. To the West, the town we had walked through earlier, and beyond that, the town where we live. Street lamps and building lights gave an orange glow, the occasional police car dashing through the town, a speeding flash of blue lights contrasting with the orange of the lamp posts. To the North stood a broadcasting station, dim red lights on broadcasting towers over a dark, most likely empty building. And to the East, that beautiful, bright pale moonlight illuminated the snowcapped fells. The frost glistened in the light of the nearer tops, while the more distant faded into the blue-black of night. But most incredible of all, up here and away from the oppressive lights of town on such a clear night was the sky.

Light from billions of stars, more than I’ve ever seen, lit up the summit. I don’t know how long we stood there staring. A song called The Old Castle by Mussorgsky played through the radio and made the whole scene that of a strange movie. I would recommend that trip to anyone. And I would also urge anyone who does take that trip to eat as we did the next day. Copious amounts of junk food for breakfast followed by a stack of profiteroles and a 1.2kg coffee cake.

Nothing should stop you from adventuring. Life is not always as long as we’d like it to be, and we have that choice of whether it is good or bad. You can spend your whole life working to get that dream job or looking for love. And I don’t knock that, having goals is a great thing. But a destination is the end of a journey, so make the journey a good one. Enjoy everything the world has to offer. Do things on impulse, make the most of what you have access to, and be happy with your life. There’s a positive to everything, you just have to find it. Thank you for reading. -CC

Camping like a real man, and Death Chef Poker.

Manof and myself have decided to walk up the fells near our town. It’s been snowing up there and we feel that we shouldn’t be missing out on the snow just because we live closer to sea level. Unfortunately, it is quite a long walk. So instead of walking there and back, we have decided to camp. Wish us luck. I’ll be back with a full report of whatever happens tomorrow. So long as I don’t freeze to death.

Until then, I leave you with this short anecdote. Yesterday, Manof and I were sat in his kitchen playing poker. For us, this is an incredibly mundane activity, so we decided to make it a bit more… interesting. If you’ve read my blog, you may have picked up that when Manof and I decide to make something interesting, it never goes well. We made a new game which we like to call Death Chef Poker. These are the rules.

Now you’ve all heard of strip poker. Regular poker rules with the twist being you remove an item of clothing every time that you lose a hand. Well Death Chef Poker has a similar concept. Every time you lose a hand, the other person must take one ingredient from the cupboards and put it on the back of the loser’s hand. The loser must then lick the food off their hand. Every time you lose a hand, you put a mark next to your name on a sheet of paper. One mark means one ingredient. So the second time you lose, you get two ingredients, third time you get three etcetra. The only other rule is that each ingredient must be edible.

In the first round, Manof won. He gave me marmite to eat (which I can’t stand). I won the second hand, which resulted in Manof eating cinamon, which is of course difficult to swallow in any quantity by itself. Third hand, Manof won. I got banana and mixed spices. Fourth hand, Manof won again, giving me pork jelly, marmalade and wasabi sauce. Fifth hand, Manof won AGAIN. By this point I was getting sick of losing, and had thought up the perfect revenge. I won the next hand, which meant I could give Manof two ingredients. So I chose baking powder and vinegar. His face was fantastic, and you could hear them fizzing all the way down his asophegus and into his stomach. It was certainly a satisfying revenge.

So wish me luck in my ventures tonight. As always, thank you for reading. -CC

Culinary disaster.

I like to think of Manof and myself as the modern day Picaso of culinary art. By that I mean our work is generally a mess and looks hideous, but people seem to like it anyway. Our cooking has been known to explode in the oven, turn molten and leak out of the oven, burst into flames and even get on the ceiling. You may not believe me, but no word of a lie, if you visited Manof’s old house you would find a small filled in hole in the ceiling from when we flipped a pancake too high, it got stuck to the ceiling so instead of pulling it off with his hands, Manof poked it with a knife a bit too vigorously. But I can tell you in all honesty, nothing we have ever made has tasted bad. 

This is the story of a particularly memorable meal we shared. Manof and I have always favoured spices in our food, but being adventurous by nature, we always seek a new challenge. One day, we decided to put our heat tolerance to the test. We bought some ghost chillies from the internet. For those of you who don’t know, ghost chillies are the hottest commercially available chillies in the world. Their scoville rating is up to 1,000,000, which is the equivalent of 10,000 times hotter than Tabasco sauce. I would not recommend them to anyone without an above average heat tolerance. When they arrived they were dehydrated, so you need to put them in a bowl of water for twenty minutes before you use them in food. We decided to make a curry with our little peppers of death.
‘How many do you think we’ll need?’ asked Manof.
‘I don’t know, apparently they’re pretty hot. Five?’ I replied.
‘Five!? That’s a stupid idea, we’ll have no mouths left!’
Twenty minutes later, we drained the five ghost chillies from the water, chopped them up and threw them into the already bubbling mixture. As a sort of test to see what we were up against, we thought we’d drink shot glasses of the water they’d been soaking in. 3. 2. 1. Drink. It turns out the water absorbs a lot of spice from those chillies. A lot. Much more than we expected. After we’d finally stopped spluttering and coughing we realised the true extent of how bad an idea  was to put five chillies in the curry. Five! FIVE!

We dished out the epic meal, forged in the depths of hell, retaining the heat of it’s former residence and living again, a vengeful fire spirit out to destroy, our mouths and stomachs first in line. Perhaps that is where the name ‘Ghost chilli’ comes from. The first mouthful of this concoction was really not so bad at all. For the three seconds it took for the heat to hit you at least. It was the kind of heat that keeps on getting hotter, and there’s not much you can do to stop it. The second mouthful was agony. After that, we may as well have been eating Caesium. Manof managed three mouthfuls, but I was determined. The phantom fruit tortured my taste buds, reducing them to broken shadows of their former selves. Each mouthful was a bloody battle in the war of Capsaicin and Calamari. Finally, a stomach full of pain and smoke coming out of my nostrils, I stood victorious over the empty plate and downed several glasses of milk. A knock at the door cut my celebration short.

Manof answered, only to be greeted by our best friend Jonno. (I don’t think I conveyed quite enough sarcasm there, so just to clarify, Jonno is the last person anyone wants to see. Ever. See my earlier  post ‘Friends’). Without waiting for an invitation, Jonno barged in in his usual clumsy fashion, removing his snood and taking off his stupidly large boots.
‘Can I help you?’ asked Manof, clearly searching for at least some sort of request of permission to join us.
‘Nah dude, I was just walking past and thought I’d drop in.’
‘Of course you did.’ Manof replied in a frustrated manor.
‘Would you like some food?’ I asked from behind. This perked Manof up. We both know for a fact Jonno has the heat tolerance of a newborn fairy with no skin.

For someone who considers themselves a rough tough Viking warrior, he sure does cry a lot. Then again, I would cry all the time if I looked like that, so we have to give him some credit. After a lot of flailing around, we decided it’d be a good idea to get him a drink. Manof brought through a pint of black current cordial which Jonno drank instantly without pausing. Two minutes later, Jonno ran upstairs and vomited violently into the toilet.
‘That wasn’t diluted, was it?’ I asked. Manof just grinned. It’s probably cruel to laugh at another person’s misery in such a way, but if you spent the day with Jonno, you would understand my pain. That day will remain with me until the day I die. I will never forget the heat of a ghost chilli, nor the increasing redness of Jonno’s face as the heat from the chilli took it’s toll. i hope you have enjoyed the story. Thank you for reading. -CC