The Whole Apple Pie Story

I guess it all started about three years ago. If I remember correctly, which I may not, I was sitting in my oldest mate Jess Greens (shout out to Jess green, hit him up on facebook or twitter @Megatherion1991) bedroom (no homo). It was me, Jess, my ex-girlfriend and Jacob Lee (no shout outs for Jay, you probably know him already). We all had a few drinks, so I decided to tell a story.


And it went a little something like this:


"One day I was relaxing in my room, just playing some x-box. When my mum, whom had just got home from her adventures outside, knocked on my bedroom door, which stood for are you wanking?" "No" I yelled, so she opened the door, walked in and left a McDonald's bag on the foot of the bed and walked out. The opened the bag and stuck my face inside, the beautiful scent of chip fat and gherkin wafted up and teased my nostrils. Confined inside the bag was a pack of beautiful golden chips, a Big Mac, with glistening sesame seeds sprinkled over the tasty bun like angel ashes, an apple pie and by the side of the bag, was a large sprite, which could quench the thirst of a thousand giants. I thought to myself, I could eat these chips of a beautiful golden nature, I could also eat this heaven sent Big Mac, I could then drink this hydrating large sprite, and the finally enjoy the baked goodness of the apple pie. Or I could FUCK THE APPLE PIE! I chose the latter. So I bit off the end, opened it up and stuck my dick inside. Now I said I fucked the apple pie, it was more of a wank, with an apple pie on my penis.
Five seconds in, it felt wonderful.
Ten seconds in, it started feeling uncomfortable.
Fifth-teen seconds in and my penis was burning.
Now, I don't know if you have seen the warning sign on McDonald's apple pies of "Caution:Very Hot". But I like to think they are there to stop people like me from burning their knobs. I spent the next five minutes pacing up and down my room in excruciating pain. Before deciding to eat my Big Mac, my chips and my crumbling terrified tearful apple pie. I then ran out of my house and got the 84 bus to Barnet AandE, to have my penis checked out. The doctor asked what had happened, I came out with the excuse, that I was home alone, therefore not needing to wear clothing, and spilled some boiling water on my penis, while in the process of  making a cup of tea. Then they ironically gave me a cream for it."

I hope you savoured every last morsel of that story as it will be the last time you get it out of me.

I received an unrivalled rush the first time I told this story, I looked at the gleeful expressions on my friends faces, as they burst into fits of laughter. Then for the first time in my life it dawned on me, with this story I could somewhat control when people laughed at me.

I would then "accidentally" mention this story and would be "forced" to tell the "infamous" apple pie story, to every new person I met. I soon started becoming friends with people directly from this story. I went from a depressive, socially awkward, self hating weird, into someone I could market myself as, to form relationships with people. Knowing fully well that I was playing an outlandish character, who has never really resembled me in anyway.

The truth is, there was never any apple pie. I was put on the spot three years ago in Jess' room and I made it up. I never thought it would have done this much in the way of changing my life. As corny as it sounds, it has gave me a confidence that I have never had before.

As a result of the story I have met so many new people, have been given a slightly inappropriate pet name and have managed to cause a girl in a different country to go mental. It's been a fun few years, but I think its time to go back to the shitty horror film connoisseur, George of old.

I guess what I am trying to say is you get more friends by fucking apple pies, than you do with honey.

 

My Birth part 2: The Wreckoning

I spent the next hour gloating over my defeat of the snake demon. Blissfully unaware of the horrors that were about to face me.

I heard faint noises from outside of the confines of my warm moist home, tapping, knocking and muttered conversation. "What are they planning?" I thought to myself. I closed my eyes for a brief moment to gather my thoughts. I opened them to be faced by the tip of a gigantic steel blade, which tore through the ceiling of my home.

My eyes were burnt by beams of fiery death, which shot through into my brain causing some momentary pain. This was later described to me as light. My eyes managed to to focus, just in time to see not one, but two snake demons descend on me. I tried to defend myself. I hurled body parts, some of which I didn't know I had, at the beasts. I tried biting one of them, but my gums were no match for its thick oily blue skin. I screamed for help from a higher power, knowing fully well that I would get no answer. The demons grabbed me by my mid-section and brought me face to face, with the Devil with a cloth on his face.

I stared into his dark angry blood shot eyes, as a mixture of blood and sweat trickled down from his brow and he said in a muffled voice "I got him".

I guess what I'm trying to say is, regarding to my mother trying to get me to move out the house, "FUCK YOU! I'M NOT LEAVING! NOT AGAIN! AND IF YOU DO HIRE A SURGEON TO COME GET ME, AS GOD BE MY WITNESS, HE WILL NOT TAKE ME ALIVE".

My Birth (part 1)

It was the 26th of January 1992, 1.28pm. Those were simple times, I would just spend all my days and nights relaxing in my mothers womb. I was well fed and watered, had no expectations forced upon me and whenever my mum pissed me off I could kick her in the stomach. With absolutely no comeuppance, just acknowledgement  "Oooo the babies kicking". I would spend entire weeks pondering as to whether or not zombies could be biochemically created, and if they were would we as a society see them as sick people in drastic need of a cure, or as bloodthirsty dead people. And how can I have such an elaborate thought process, when I have zero life experience.

Yep, all was well in the womb (which I would oftenly refer to as moist cushion land). Until, from outside of my mothers comfy innards, I heard an unfamiliar voice yell the word that still strikes fear in my heart. The word that prevents me from being emotionally capable of walking through 50% of the sides of a door.
"PUSH!"

I had recently felt some discomfort, the walls surrounding me would close in and then retract, this was gradually happening more and more often. I would slip down a bit, but I managed to climb my way back up. But then came The Gloved Hand. I had heard whispered stories of this foul creature from other unborns at pre-natal classes. A beast with oily blue, snake like skin and a grip that could crush a tin can. The beast was said to be at the command of a devil like human with dark eyes and cloth for a face. "The five pronged snake beast takes unborns from the comfort of their home. He takes them to a place where they are subject to the cold and a lifetime of torture". If only these were just tales.

 The Gloved Hand reached deep inside and gripped tightly around the crown of my head. The pressure on my infantile brain was almost too much to bare. It began to pull me away. I instinctively reached for anything that I could hold onto. Kidneys, intestines, a lung, I didnt care how much damage I caused, it was a last ditch effort at survival. Luckily, only milliseconds before I was dragged into the abyss, the vaginal wall closed on my face, like an automatic door with a poor judgement of timing. The Gloved Hand lost its grip for a split second and I managed to grab onto my umbilical cord and hoist myself back up.

I had won, I had defeated the Five Pronged Snake Demon................ or so I thought.


Part 2. Coming on 18/08/12