Hows it going guys?!

Just thought I'd say hi with an Akabusi Story xxx

Akabusi sat in a multistorey car park in Borehamwood. He was savaging a Sweet Onion Chicken Teriyaki Subway sandwich on Hearty Italian like a Rottweiler on a scouser. He had picked it up from a drive thru Sub on the A1 earlier. The spotty c**t who served him, had asked whether he wanted 6 inch or a foot long. Akabusi had laughed at the prepostrous question so loud the gherkins and pickles had curled. People just didn't understand Akabusi.

Kriss liked Chicken Teriyaki - it made his seed taste funny. And he knew that because today ended in a "y" he was going to get some f**king action and some poor bitch was going to be choking on more white stuff than Prince Charles best mate in Klosters. So he liked to prepare.

Hot Chipolte Southwest Sauce slipped onto his denim dungerees and ran down his glistening ebony carcass finding the tight, black hairs that slept at the base of his onyx titan like Sherpas at basecamp. He felt his chocolate post box twinge with anticipation, his giant balls rising like landing gear on a jumbo. He washed himself down with a Easy4men.com wet wipe and used a pencil to pick the crap from between his gigantic white tombstone like teeth. He headed for the lift and the short walk to the studios.

Akabusi had been persuaded by his agent Harvey Goldenblum to do Celebrity Big Brother. Akabusi was boracic. He had invested in an Egyptian pyramid scheme and it a had gone tits up. It was clear that he wasn't going to get a pyramid for the £127,000 he'd invested so he pulled out and lost everything. Endemol were prepared to pay him £300 for his late entrance into the house and an extra £40.07 for every money shot on camera. Akabusi knew he could take Endemol to the cleaners with this rate - he was looking to make £100,000 a day.

Akabusi burst through the doors of the house dead on 11.37. He didn't want any fanfare or twats screaming "Awooga" or Davinia mugging to camera - he was here to get some money together to buy a Wonder of the World and get his slobbering doberman of a cock as sodden and as ravaged as a New Orleans resident.

Everyone turned to look at Akabusi who stood in the harsh light of the house like a black, denim Superman. Akabusi let out such a roar that the live feed was disrupted momentarily and Cleo's milky white bazukkas shoke like Cassius Clay blowing out the 65th candle. They were all there - the melted raisin that called himself Jermaine, the faded B-Movie has been called Dick, two streaks of p*ss called H and Jock and then a parade of pussy so varied Akabusi thought he was in the RSPCA rehoming centre. But Kriss had been contracted to do only one thing and that was called Shipla or Shipman or something.

He let slip the straps of his dungerees and let the dank air of the Big Brother house caress his sexualised, ebony opus like a cheap Thai suit massage. His eyes descended on Shiplman and his plonker filled with more engorged muscle than a club in Vauxhall. His pulsating veins looked like a busy road system near Birmingham and his hairy heavyweight testes were sparring with each other like East End kids done good. He knew that beneath the Shilling's face bleach and impeccable manners were a pair of epic Bollywood bristols and at a pussy so fragrant Jade would release it as a perfume called "Indian Bitch".

He stalked Shipma like a Bengal tiger around the garden. His diamond hard erection accidently pierced the bodies of f**kpig Goody, scouse skank Daniel and Pat Butcher from S Club. For the briefest of moments he stood there looking like a mahogany scum kebab and could feel the pre cum rising covering his kevlar helmut like early morning dew. He wrestled off the bodies and set upon Shillpin.

Shipmate was defenseless. Seeing Akabusi looking like a Zulu massacre carrying his herculean, black pillar like a Greek God architect she decided to get stuck in. She let her sari fall to the ground exposing a pair of mocha tits like two Taj Mahals and a clunge so neat and tidy that Capability Brown was involved. Akabusi knew that from the gushing Ganges surrounding her tight Khyber Pass he was going to have an epic Mahabharat session.

He skewered Shilpan and rode her like a jet black whale on tip of a Tuk Tuk. His hands were busier than Ganesh at a call centre. Within hours he shot his mango chutney all over her battered naan bread like torso. He flopped out of her like a horse being born and watched the last of his army of spermazota crawl away from his dying helmut into the shadows.

"Thanks Shipmate. That was a quality bunk up." he roared at her and the others who had fallen to the ground to pray to any God who was listening. He rolled up his king dong like a Persian carpet and slipped into his dungerees. He couldn't stand it in the House anymore and had decided to leave. He'd get his Pyramid somehow, but not in this c**t soup of a place.

He bent over the pile of giant jizz, matted brown hair, uncooked chicken and bleached facial hair and whispered "Awooga" in her ear and patted her on the fanny.

The End.

I made it as far as the second line, before I gave up.

I made it alllllll the way. Whelan I salute you. This is deserving of the Ginger Filth section methinks. You are a connoisseur of lewdity good sir.

Thanks Gyng.

I've missed your smell. Hows WoW, still playing?

Aroused! Top Quality!

I got as bored by that as i do by your lack of communication and elf'ing...sort your life out.

I still havent seen your sisters minge on tv...wtf is going on man? you promised to hook me up!

Her clunge should be on soon.

Think she's currently on TV in one of the NPower Adverts, although I haven't seen it yet. Got my Kleenex by my bed...Just In Case.

Yeah I'm still playing off and on. Mostly this month I have been playing Stalker .