Wednesday, January 27, 2016
News arrives of a coven of nubile young women who claim to have mated with aliens. How I would love to believe they are telling the truth. As a proud Earth gorilla, it thrills me that an advanced extra-terrestrial race would want to breed with our native fauna. The chosen ladies are certainly fine specimens with lissom figures and promising careers in the private sector. Your high-flying, planet-hopping alien isn’t going to point his antennae at the first frumpy wench who crosses his path.
The good news for Earth women who might be apprehensive about sharing their bed with a creature from the Horsehead Nebula is that the aliens are fantastic lovers:
“It was an incredible super primal, super raw, super primal sexual experience,” said Bridget Nielsen, a former marketing executive. “There was a real freedom and we were really going for it. It was the best sex I ever had.”
As well as being super-primal with the ladies, the aliens have no inhibitions about voyeurs:
“All of sudden I'm sat next to this green reptilian creature and immediately I'm so sexually turned on looking at this being,” explained Aluna Verse, a video game designer. “I was very surprised. We're making love in this classroom in front of everyone.”
I wonder how these inter-stellar studs got to be so good at pleasuring Earth females. Is it possible they’ve been visiting our planet for the last 10,000 years, mating with women in every haystack, cave and castle? Even a green reptilian creature could be a demon in the sack after centuries of practice with the horniest hoochies of human history. And they could learn all the latest tricks from porn videos.
Apparently, these intimate encounters have produced broods of happy half-breeds. You might think a philandering alien would make a beeline for Alpha Centauri after knocking up his Earth mistress, but the pregnancies are part of their master plan:
“They are creating a hybrid race to better humanity,” explained Ms Nielsen.
Sadly, the children have chosen to live on spaceships with their doting fathers. However they do occasionally visit Earth for family reunions. As it is against the rules to photograph them, their mothers have sketched portraits of their offspring for us to admire. And what handsome little creatures they are! Leonard Nimoy himself could not have wished for more adorable children.
When I told the manager of the safari camp about the Hybrid Baby Community, he snorted like a wildebeest swatting a fly with its tail:
“To call this a hoax would be an insult to hoaxes,” he scoffed. “These women must be kinky escorts trying to drum up publicity for their services.”
“You’re always such a party-pooper,” I said. “Why not offer them a free safari holiday if they will provide proof of their claims?”
“And what if the proof turns out to be false?” he asked.
“In that case I will give them a damned good spanking,” I replied. “Women should know what to expect if they tell huge whoppers to a gorilla.”
Labels: aliens, hybrid babies, spanking, super-primal sex
Wednesday, January 20, 2016
Chinese soap opera
Strange events are taking place in China. Some might say that strange events have always taken place is China, but such apocryphal claims will not be entertained in this blog. A quick perusal of the Jimmy Choo History Almanac indicates that things were pretty humdrum during the Ming dynasty, when mandarins of the Imperial Court played ping pong to relieve the boredom. As long as they kowtowed to the Emperor and kept their beards well trimmed, no one would dock their pay for having a quiet snooze in the eunuch dormitory.
The latest incident of note from the Middle Kingdom concerns a pretty young woman called Xiao Xiao, who was dumped by her boyfriend for being too fat. The heartless rogue didn’t bother to soften the blow by saying he was “having issues” or had fallen in love with his sister. He simply told her that he was embarrassed to come home with a girlfriend who looked like “a fat little goose”.
The peculiar aspect of this tale is the manner in which Miss Xiao responded to being callously rejected in this fashion. She did not, as far as we know, hang out with a gaggle of girlfriends willing to endorse her tearful recriminations. Instead, she made herself slimmer in a jiffy by paying for a liposuction procedure. The fat extracted from her body was then used to make a bar of soap, which she sent to the scoundrel who jilted her with the following message:
“Yang Xiaolei, do you still remember last Spring Festival? Since I can't accompany you to go home this year, I used my own fat to make a soap and give it to your mother for bathing. Spring Festival is the time to give a gift to those low-class men who judge women by appearance.”
When I told the manager of safari camp about this story, he sucked his teeth and nodded.
“That’s the Chinese for you,” he said. “They always have their own way of doing things. A western woman would have had herself photographed with a handsome hunk and sent the picture to her ex with the message ‘In your face, buddy!’ Only a Chinese woman would think of using her dripping to make a bar of soap. You could spend a lifetime trying to fathom what goes on in their minds.”
“You don’t say?” I remarked. “To be honest, I find Hollywood actors more inscrutable than the Chinese. Especially George Clooney. Why is his face always so grumpy?”
As a gorilla, I find that humans tend to exaggerate their cultural differences. If you examine Miss Xiao’s statement, she said the soap was a gift for her ex-boyfriend’s mother. Why did she bring his mother into the discussion? It looks suspiciously like the kind of “Yo Mama” insult that was invented in the ghettos of America.
In truth, there are very few human tribes whose culture has not been contaminated by foreigners. Humans have been cross-fertilising each other since they learned how to jump on two feet.
Labels: China, George Clooney, liposuction, soap
Wednesday, January 13, 2016
Have you heard of a country called Kyrgyzstan? When I asked the manager of the safari camp, he said it was the fairy-tale kingdom where Aladdin and Ali Baba fought a duel for the hand of Princess Pashmima Sugerbuns. Apparently it was air-to-air combat on flying carpets, but he can’t remember who won. After borrowing his Bazooka Joe Pocket Atlas, however, I discovered it was a real country caught in a sandwich between China and Uzbekistan.
The cause of my Kyrgizzy curiosity is a news story about a British man who got deported from the country for likening its national dish to a horse’s penis. The word “penis” is rarely spoken by British men, so he probably used some other colloquial term. Whatever the nomenclature, the Kyrgyzians were scandalised and outraged by his remark. A strike was called at his place of work and the country’s leading chef denounced the impertinent Englishman as an upstart and a calumniator. After toying with the idea of prosecuting him for “insulting national dignity”, the government decided to expel him. It is rumoured that British diplomats in Kyrgyzstan have started wearing kaftans to make their nationality less conspicuous. Some are expected to grow wispy beards.
Now, the picture above shows the Kyrgyzstani national dish, which appears to be some kind of sausage. Whether it resembles a horse’s appendage I cannot say, but it seems to have roughly the same dimensions as that of a zebra. Were the Kyrgyzians justified in feeling so slighted? If you ask me, it depends on what a horse’s dick actually tastes like (after being cooked and seasoned in the appropriate manner). If it’s as unappetising as it sounds, they would be entitled to take umbrage at anyone comparing it to their native hot dog. But for all we know, it may be a gourmet dish that tastes better than the finest Bratwurst. They should have done some basic research before getting in a tizzy about the first offhand description of their national cuisine.
Maybe Zac Efron could teach the Kyrgyzians how to take a joke. The 28-year-old actor has been telling everyone that his mother gave him a packet of penis-shaped pasta for Christmas:
“You know your mom's on point when she puts this in your stocking!” exclaimed Zac, greatly amused.
Personally I’m not convinced it’s as funny as Zac makes out, and it makes you wonder about the kind of relationship he has with his mother. Did she laugh at little Zac’s todger when he was a boy? He must have forgiven her if she did, and maybe it helped him shrug off the giggles of his girlfriends in later life.
The only remaining question is whether Zac will eat the pasta. It’s quite difficult to get the cooking time right if the size and shape are unusual. He should also carefully consider what kind of sauce would be suitable. I would favour a tomato-based sauce rather than a creamy one on this occasion. And mince would be preferable to meatballs.
Labels: horses, todger, Zac Efron, zebra
Wednesday, January 06, 2016
Old stars, new war
So it seems they’ve made a new Star Wars film called The Force Awakens. I never knew it had fallen asleep, but I suppose that’s what happens when the galaxy is at peace and there are no hostile spaceships to zap with a ray gun. The manager of the safari camp told me not to make jokes about Star Wars lest I offend any tourists who are fans of the never-ending space saga:
“They are more common that you might think,” he explained. “We once had a guest who called himself Jedi One Kenobi”.
“A name to scare the pants off any baboon who might be thinking of defecting to the Empire,” I remarked.
In truth, I wasn’t a great fan of the original movie. Han Solo was just a clichéd tough-nut adventurer who thought dames were a pain in the ass until Princess Leia penetrated the gooey substance inside his armour-plated shell. One would have expected better versions of the masculine hero to exist in the age of the spaceman. Chewbacca was a stupid braying teddy bear and Darth Vader clearly had some kind of throat infection. The only good thing was the light sabre, and I was surprised that no one got prodded in the posterior by one of those handy weapons. Wouldn’t it have been the obvious practical joke to play among the Jedi fraternity?
Although Carrie Fisher reprises her role as the princess in the new film, the female lead is played by 23-year-old Daisy Ridley, to whom Ms Fisher offered various pearls of motherly wisdom during the shoot:
“I told her not to go through the crew like wildfire,” she revealed on British TV. "When I was first in it, I never wanted anyone to have the anecdote, 'I slept with Princess Leia.'”
A wise precaution, but why would a leading actress fool around with lowly members of the production crew? Wouldn’t it be more tempting to have an affair with the leading man? Perhaps this opportunity never presented itself to Ms Fisher because of the unattractive hairstyle she had to adopt in the first movie. Like most women, she looks far more alluring with her hair down, and you couldn’t blame Harrison Ford for being picky with all the hoochies on set, ready to drop their knickers for him at the wink of an eye.
A fine example of what a good hairdo can do for a woman is seen in the example of Diane Rodriguez, Ecuador’s leading transgendered female, who is shown below with her transgendered husband. Could you honestly say who was who without the essential clue of their hairstyles? Ms Rodrigues recently announced that her husband was pregnant with her child, which could result in the first human baby to be breastfed by its daddy. From what I can see, mummy’s breasts look more appetising even though they contain no milk. Let’s hope this paradox doesn’t cause baby to bark up the wrong nipple.
Labels: breast-feeding, Carrie Fisher, Harrison Ford, Star Wars, tranny