-pieball pony---check
-a tennis ball---check
-waffles---check
-rum---check
-schort---check
-women---check
-beards---check

it was the eve of the 11th of december, making it the 10th of december, and it was chilly outside, which was unfortunate for chrevamath the steed of bruton, for horses rarely live inside. on the morning of the 11th of december everybody woke up really early(thats bruton and chrevamath, not one else counts in brutonia) because chrevamath the generous and talented had made belgian WAFFLES with syrup for his knightly friend/magician. the dialogue after breakfast was a little odd as one part was spoken in human and the remainder in horse, without trying to explain the complexities of horse speech it is easier to say chrevamath won the argument and bruton had to clean the dishes. it was during this excersise that bruton decided to buy chrevamath a christmas present, but to keep it a secret he wouldnt be able to get help off his steed, no shit that is what a secret means. thats a bit harsh replied the author to the narrator and then everybody went crossseyed for a little bit and it was concluded that the last little bit be ignored to prevent any confusion.

bruton went out in search of some equine shopping help, but couldnt find any of chrevamaths mates as they were all busy at the horse TENNIS BALL eating championships(thankfully they were not very good as horses are allergic to tennis balls) so he had to settle on the sound advice of an old greyhound called "november". "november, i say, what and odd name! could you advice me on who to ask for aid in buying my noble steed chrevamath a cchristmas present?" november thought deeply for a moment and as he opened his eyes bruton could see all of the wisdom in the world in there, bruton knew this would be clever. "woof" said november. "bollox, i dont speak dog" cursed the bruton.

on he went in search of advice and the ultimate present. while he walked he started to think about WOMEN and how they tended to compliment him more when he wasn't preoccupied with growing BEARDS. on reflection he concluded that he must now find a balance, but in order to do that he must first find a see-saw to practice the balancing act. that was when he was stopped in his tracks by a PIEBALL PONY taking a poop on SCHORT. as amazed as he was by the pony's ability to get a porcelain throne on top of the aged ford escort, and even more so by the pony's ability to hold and possible read a copy of The Irish Times from the 5th of december, he felt he should send byrni a text to warn of the impending poo on the bonnet of conor's second sexual partner. unfortunately bruton had no credit left, so byrni had a big dirty cleveland steamer on his bonnet the next time he saw schort.

as it was beginning to get dark in brutonia, bruton thought he should hurry this process up a notch, "i know" he said "i will use my well reknowned get in to their frame of mind way of thinking" so he started practing being a horse. first he trotted, then he ate some grass, then he ate a carrot but thought very little of that part, and finally he put an old man on his back and made the man fall off. he was ready to be a horse. "now" he said in broken horse "if i was a horse, what would i want for christmas?" this all of course sounded like "neigh neigh neeeeiiigheigh" to the surrounding bushes and trees(bruton knew he would sound silly so he went to the bushes). then despite it being a few sentences later, it was really only a second after he said that thing in horse he let one sinlge syllabled word draw from his breath "RUM! everyhorse and man in brutonia wants rum for christmas"
the end
haha! im a nutter!!! the real end

peace and geese for charity
rb

Reasons DIT are HOT....
Emer's Boobs
Bruton's Beard
Naked Marty
Teddy's Cat fetish
Hannah's innocence
Byrni's climbing ability
Stupid Sexy Clanno
Jonny's "where's the weirdest place you've had sex" game
Ced paying €5 for sex
And Rory's ridiculously small nipples

by Rory O'Sullivan

The Geography of a Woman
------------------------
Between the ages of 18 - 21 a woman is like Africa or Australia. She is half discovered, half wild and naturally beautiful with bushland around the fertile deltas.

Between the ages of 21 - 30 a woman is like America or Japan. Completely discovered, very well developed and open to trade especially with countries with cash or cars.

Between the ages of 30 - 35, she is like India or Spain. Very hot, relaxed and convinced of its own beauty.

Between the ages of 35 - 40 a woman is like France or Argentina. She may have been half destroyed during the war but can still be a warm and desirable place to visit.

Between the ages of 40 - 50 she is like Yugoslavia or Iraq. She lost the war and is haunted by past mistakes. Massive reconstruction is now necessary.

Between the ages of 50 - 60 she is like Russia or Canada. Very wide, quiet and the borders are practically unpatrolled but the frigid climate keeps people away.

Between the ages of 60 - 70 a woman is like England or Mongolia. With a glorious and all conquering past but alas no future (a bit like Tony Blair, maybe Blair's a women really).

After 70, they become Albania or Afghanistan. Everyone knows where it is, but no one wants to go there.

The Geography of a Man
------------------------
Between the ages of 15 - 70 a man is like Zimbabwe - ruled by a dick.