So many words. So many tales to tell. So many frankly ridiculous situations that for some reason only ever seem to happen to me. And I wanted to tell you about them all.
But Real Life continues to monopolise my time, and with Werewolf a mere five days away from returning to this great city, and reassuming ownership of this website, I’ve simply run out of time.
I wanted to tell you about bedding my first African girl. About the joys and merits of consensual adultery (“Take my wife… Please!”). About the awkward embarrassment that ensues when one enters Lolita’s just as the police are in attendance to collect their regular “fee”. About my disappointment that I can’t seem to find any shaggable midgets (“midgets: they make your cock look big”) any more – there used to be a right game one working the pole at Nana Plaza’s Lollipop bar, many moons ago… But I’m all out of time.
There will be a final fill of filth on Wednesday morning, before my goodbye message appears on Friday, mere hours before the return of the man himself. I’d like to say that I’ll find time to put something further up on Monday or Tuesday, but it’s looking increasingly likely that I simply won’t have the time.
So for now, this is my penultimate-but-one publication. So here’s, if not a particularly fine excuse, then at least an explanation as to why I managed to get absolutely nothing written this weekend…
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Posted by Werewolf 
