Google Spreadsheets = five minutes of excitement, inviting friends to collaborate, and watching cool stuff appear IN FRONT OF YOUR EYES. It’s like two-dimensional MSN, if you can even begin to imagine that. Without further ado, here is the menu to My Ideal Whorehouse.
SEX ACT | PRICE | DETAILS |
---|---|---|
Anal Contact (Brisk) | £22 | Bring your own anus. Girls not provided. |
Titting Off Your Johnson | £111 | Do not expose tits to low pressure. They are lobster tits and will explode. |
Jesus Juice | £3 | Not from Jesus. More like a paste. |
Bette Davis Eyes | £4.44 | After use, please rinse eyes in provided brine. Bette will be putting them back in her head after you’re finished, and the last thing she wants is hairs on them. |
Wanking the plalk | gratis | A poorly though-out and executed pun on pirates and sex. If you can work out what it is and can convince one of our staff to indulge you, it’s yours! |
Wretched Affair | Some Euro | Ends nastily, but the tits were so wide you had to have a go. |
Kid’s Special – Alliterative Sex | 45% income | With fuck all forethought, Fenalla forces four fingers into your fella-fanny, forms a fist, furrows her forehead into a fixed frown, and flexes her fingers until fudge falls out. Sponsored by Findus Fish Fingers. |
Teutonic Ebonic | £55 | Whassup, blood? A German, that’s what. Now get back to work, this is a flagship PC World store, not a whorehouse. |
Mystery Customer | $? | While Jessica Tandy lowers herself into a hot bath, you will be invited to select a piece from the Elizabeth Duke catalogue, which will be put into a bar of soap and posted to your mother. We’d have difficulty arguing that this is sex, hence the mysterious price. |
Ballistic Eyehole Assault | £! £! £! | Too fast to see. Too agonising to ignore. |
I’m Fucking Your Cunt, Actually | Fifty pee | Slightly pompous narrative sex with a long-suffering but surprisingly sensible woman |
Weekipaedia | £15 | A baby will wee on you. Then another baby will come along and wee on you. Then the first baby will come back and wee on you like they did before. Then a third baby will say that you weren’t important enough to wee on, and they should both be weeing on Burt Reynolds, who is in the next room. Observational sex for “the Google generation”. |
I Am The Sex of Christopher Biggins | A Groat and a Leg | Sex as loveless as it is endless. Biggins towels noisily at his own face immediately before and constantly during. He’d towel himself after too, but as I said this sex is terrifyingly without end. |
Lightning Seeds with Clap of Thunder | A scotch poond note | Ian Broudie’s watery jism contains some of the noisiest gonorrhea in the universe! You’ll wince as it barks at you from his helmet, before trickling down the narrow shaft to sit on the pubes. |
Orphan Rape | 3pc. Sweets and 10 Derhooligan Zlotis | Sadly, this isn’t a pun. You rape the orphan. “Genuinely not on,” said Time Out in its review, giving this morally abhorrent practice an unspectacular three stars. |
Guinness Shits | £3.10 in some places | Black by plopuar demand. Contains a source of phenylalanine. |
That’s right, that’s right, that’s right, that’s right, that’s right, I really love your tiger’s tight vagina | 13 units | Nuzzle tenderly at a tiger’s earlobe, whilst your hand travels ever southward. BUT YOU DON’T KNOW HOW MUCH DRUG WAS IN THE TRANQUILIZER DART – SHE COULD WAKE UP AT ANY TIME AND YOU’RE NOT EVEN SURE IF TIGER’S EVEN HAVE EARLOBES. WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU NUZZLING |
Condoleezza Twice | The knife you came with. I know you brought a knife. I want the knife. | Forget that, you only get to do it once. She’s a very busy lady and hasn’t got time for any of your shit. |
The smell of gay palm in the morning | Sum 41 | One of our weakest pun-based services, a gay man will offer you his palm and allow you to guess where he’s had it. If it’s David, chances are it’s potato salad. He’s a secret eater and we often find him suspiciously close to – and moving away from – the fridge. Once he tried to pretend he was doing a kitchen inspection. He picked up a knife, tutted, and said “does no-one clean the knives in this place?” and a bit of chive flew out his mouth. “David, you’re a prostitute, not a kitchen inspector,” we gently reminded him. |
BSc (Hons) plagued by ping-pong balls | £3 per ball, 50 balls per hour, text STOP to 84003 | If you get through your three year course under a constant barrage of fanny-sodden ping pong balls, we’ll let you fuck Lucy. Lucy is a dolphin. She hates you, but has agreed to do this because we said we wouldn’t cut her free unless she did. |
Jesus Shaves | 1.000000E | He shaves your fucking anus is what he shaves. He gets down on his hands and knees and says “it’s quite normal if you trump while I’m shaving your anus in fact I like it”. |
Name The Corpse | 8 Tiger Tokens | If we pick your name, you win a date with Ricky Ross from Deacon Blue. Ricky Ross’s temperament will hover somewhere between ebullient and defeated. |
You! Can’t! Handle! The! Pouffe! | Infinipounds | Infuriatingly proud removal man with a square patch of fabric missing around his arsehole. Leaves beige kisses on the work surface. |
Indecision Mary | 10% ionic surfactants | Dither over our genetically engineered whore, who’s literally bristling with orifices. She’s bell-shaped too, which is unusual for a whore. Whores are usually human shaped, for economic reasons. |
Shabby Wanks | A heart for my robot | Is that Mr. Glover, man? No, it’s not Danny, but THEY DO ALL LOOK THE SAME RATHER. After you’ve ejaculated, you get to discuss with an audience of real black people whether a tenuous pun was worth dragging up a centurys old racist cliché. |
Call that an orgasm? | Dick Spring | Crocodile Dundee walks into the cafe as Meg Ryan does THAT scene from When Harry Met Sally. Incensed by the fact that Billy Crystal appears to be losing his argument, Paul Hogan starts a war of incremental orgasm-faking that will eventually take them both into space. |
Think of the Moslems | JUST A THOUGHT | Sit down for a gentle, illuminating chat with Britain’s leading moderate Moslem, while we project Dutch-flag burning and beheadings onto the wall behind you. You simply won’t know what to think – only that you’d better fucking respect their damn religion or they’ll set you the fuck on fire. Again, this probably isn’t sex unless you’re Scott Cappurro, in which case you’ll make a truly brave joke about being on the bottom of the pile of men in Abu Ghraib. |
How clean is your mouse? | Lint | Absolutely our weakest pun-based service. A biologist shrew and a transexual bleach-queen humilate you in front of your family at the state of your “mouse”. You didn’t ask for this. What were you thinking? WHAT IS YOUR MOUSE? IT’S NOT EVEN A PUN |
Dessert | from £4.25 | Ask for our dessert menu. |
Thanks, mainly to myself, because let’s face it I’m the best, but also to the good folk of Belmsford who joined in.
First!
Sorry, I thought I was on AICN there.
Won’t happen again.
Yay! You win the GENUINELY FEVERED competition to comment first on my blog! EVERYONE ELSE YOU’RE MAKING ME LOOK BAD HERE
Third!
Fifth!
oh bollocks
Fifth!
oh
bollocks
Normally it doesn’t make you look like a nob if your first comment goes into moderation and you repost it. In this instance, I rather think it does.
sorry, didn’t mean to, the network can cock things up a bit