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- Male, 26, 41
- from The TOON which isn't a city. Or more specifically C to tha H-I-L-L
- I am Single
- Profile views: 4,325
- Member since: October 2006
- Last active: 2/23/10
- Photos of Colin Shepherd (18)
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close About Me
- All the girlies say I'm pretty fly...... For a white guy
- Me, Myself, and I
- DON'T UPSET THE RHYTHM, DON'T YOU DARE
YOU SPIN MY HEAD RIGHT ROUND, RIGHT ROUND WHEN YOU GO DOWN, WHEN YOU GO DOWN, DOWN
NOTE: Megan Fox will you please stop phoning and texting me. I'm sick of you, I don't fancy you and I most certainly will not share sexy time with you. You only reached number two in FHM's sexiest woman you pathetic excuse for a hot chick.
My life ambition is almost fulfilled - I want to work with SUMOs.
I hate science jokes. But I quite like pool.
In the future I want Sky Sports, an Audi and for my kids to be fitter and stronger than Stoo's so that when we make them fight my kids win easily.
I have a really cool jacket but I don't like when it gets wet and I HATE when people throw it on the floor.
For those of you with hair, one day you will realise that BALD IS BEAUTIFUL
- I Can do what I want because....
- I'm in a band
- People you canny shove off the bus
- Your granny
- Other good Sweden things...
- Me and mainly James attempting to speak Swedish. That girl loved it! I want to eat your toothbrush
- Things I miss from my youth
- Having hair
- Favourite part of Sweden Visit
- Gettin gubbed by BK Hacken, G getting chased by a gran
- For those who call me a geek....
- You are correct. Sad face.
- Is about as gid as when you bang your knee cap or elbow
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Some call him fat, some call him a loser. I call him Bill. And here's why.
He grew up in Northern England, a shabby place but not as shabby as his beard (a joke I share with him)! His house was part of a small farming settlement, enclosed by woodlands and encapturing a diverse slice of the area's wildlife. Now i know what you're thinking, "Oh yes how coincidental... He grew up on a farm and was surrounded by wildlife, I wonder how that threw him to the heights that he has reached."
Well I must stop you there. As a matter of fact, he hated life there. He found life boring and it was almost impossible to fulfil his food cravings. It was not his idea of a house. It in no way resembled living in a giant fridge.
He attended school rarely, preffering to scavange for scraps of food in his neighbours bins. His mother was fully aware he had fallen into this abyss but she was powerless to prevent him, as he was twice her mass by the age of 5 months.
So this pathetic lifestyle continued for 20 or so years, over which time his waistline ballooned from a 'respectible' size 30 to a walrus like 68. Over double his previous girth, completely dwarfing his rat like-mother. He struggled to get trousers to fit him not to mention the bin bag condoms. Each day was one repetative cycle round the bins after another, once after breakfast, lunch and dinner. He was too lazy to do any more. After all, 3 trips a day amounted to searching in NINE buckets. So after dinner and his evening search, he'd hit the hay literally, and sleep until woken by the crows pecking his sculpted face. His face was another thing he hated - the reason being it could attract wildlife better than dung beetles could put up with playing in piles of poo. It did his HEID in.
So at the age of 24 he decided to broaden his horizons. Push the boat out. Go crazy. Let his hair down. Show off that gut.
He moved to the big city. Dunfermline was only 80 miles up the motorway, but cheaper to get the train. So he booked his train ticket, grabbed his sack (thats rucksack) and set off. The journey was spoiled by an internal yearning for companionship. It was something he had never experienced having grown up in a field. He hated nature so found no comfort in talking to anything other than a cool, hairdman who could kill anyone with a kick to the knee. This unknown entity, this superhero, this messiah, this ENTITY, was only hours from his side. William could have no clue how lucky his imminent future was.
Stepping off the train at the chemists down by Abbey View, he sucked in his belly, grabbed his sack again and began half walking, half running to the nearest cool person hang out place. Naturally, ASDA was his first port of call. The wee ASDA had no appeal and reminded him of the time he sharted and wet himself at the same time. Best avoid there and hit the big ASDA. No way was he walking there though, he'd get a taxi.
Once inside the superstore he grabbed some essentials to help him through the night - some cakes, crisps, chocolate and pork pies. He took his healthy food to the checkouts. He looked up at the skilled operator, but could not make him out for the brilliant white light that was shining out of the guys ass hole. He was temporarily blinded by the sheer beauty of this man. His name badge said Colin but surely this name was not worthy of such a heavenly figure? He timidly opened his mouth to speak but no words came out, part in fear of this god's reaction, partly because knowledge was spewing out of his nostrils. "Would you like a hand to pack" boomed a manly, sexy voice.
He felt a twinge in his pants.
"No its ok" whispered chubby. "I would however, like to be your friend. I'm new here and need help fitting in."
"Well i finish in an hour, so lets go to the pub." Said the checkout operator as he grabbed his coat and left. His manager tried to stop him but she was feeble so Colin just stood on her to shut her up.
"What's your name?" Asked Colin?
3 Comments 322 weeks
It all started in primary 2. Young Graeme aka Grey aka Gray aka G was learning from his gay pals what puberty was in the playground of the gay school in gay street, gay town. "its when you become an adult gay" claimed one lad. "its when you grow an extra leg" said another prankster. This confused the smallest runt of the playground, so he went home to ask boy what his views were.
"PISS OFF GRAY" was boy's reply. He was once again angry for no apparent reason. "GET OUT MY ROOM". So 6 year old gray skipped through to play with his barbie in her lego house. But he noticed something when he was undressing ken - he had hair on his boabbie as well as his head. Something that he lacked. So he phoned his friend from cool school, cool street, cool town. His name was Coolin Shepherd, and he was very, very wise and mature. Like a fine wine or cheddar, he oused maturity.
"Why do my dollies have hairy willy winkies?" asked gray.
"That's because ken hit puberty and levels of the steroid hormone testosterone in his blood stream rocketed, stimulating growth of pubic hair from hair follicles" replyed Coolin, also aged 6. "It happened to me when I was 3. I didnt just get it on my schlong though, hair growth flourished on my legs, arm pits, arms, bum crack, chest and face too."
By now gray was worried because not only did he lack pyawbs, but he was also missing part of his male genitalia - the part which goes by the name of "the penis". He had plenty of balls, 5 to be precise, but no penis.
"Coolin, why has this not happened to me yet? I dont even have a daddy bit. Only 5 balls."
"Well graeme, that probably wont happen until you are 30. It only happened to me because I am extremely sweaty and the sweat managed to produce testosterone by using a miniature saw and bread mill. Dont worry about it, it'll happen yet. As for your 5 balls, i dont know. you're a mutant."
So safe in the knowledge that he would one day grow a penis, graeme hung up the phone. Coolin was always right so there was no need to doubt him.
13 years on, Graeme is still waiting to grow that penis and hit puberty. He cant wait to show the girls whats waiting in his pants and also what he can do with it. The trouble is, little does he know, that boys who study at Edinburgh uni suffer from penis shrinking. Those who go there before their penis has begun its journey will never grow one. Taxi.
1 Comment 322 weeks
Stoo struggles daily with his sexuality. His fight with gayness begins at 7am every day when he is awoken by his barbie and ken special edition pink perfume alarm clock. It alternates the songs it plays each day between hits by take that and five. Stoo prefers take that caressing his ears as he gently wakes from his dreams of fluffy bunnys and make up. Once fully alert the thoughts begin to pile up in his head - "what to wear today..." and "i wonder what celebrity to model my hair on..." to name a couple.
As he is actually a boy, he battles those thoughts with tanks, guns and football. He needs to battle as he is insecure and feels that if anyone found out he'd just die, or have to change his dressing style to emo. So, he gets out of bed. He pulls his long, smooth, slender legs out from under his covers and admires how hairless they are. He recently shaved them. His mind then wanders to his adjacent dressing table, topped with hairdryer, make up bag, straighteners and pink, silk robe. He slips into the goonie and stares at himself in the mirror. He tells himself "youre not a woman... youre not a woman.... youre NOT A WOMAN...". In doing this, it pushes him to lift up his powder brush and mascara and he goes to town on that masculine jaw and beak.
Once the pus has been put on its off to the bathroom mirror to wash the long blonde hair. Washing it every morning means its more manageable and looks less greasy. However, it adds the problem of frizz! Thats no problem though. He has GHDs. "any and every man should own a set of these miracle hair workers" he chuckles to himself. Once heated sufficiently, they could even straighten him. He decides to model his hair on a very cool celebrity - Colin Shepherd.
So he reaches for the razor. He doesnt shave his whole head, though. No, only the top. He leaves the back and sides because thats what his fav celeb does. Now that he has his hair styled and make up on theres only one last hurdle to overcome before he can face the world. Thats what dress to wear today. His wardrobe is larger than his head is now bald and frequently leaves him in tears as he cannot decide what to wear. Youd think this would stop him from buying more clothes but no. He still buys clothes that look the exact same as he has - only a different colour.
Today he has no problem in deciding as his outfit entered his dream last night, just like robbie logies boabbie. He slips on his white shirt and black suit jacket; pulls on his breeks and socks and skips down the stairs. He grabs a calorie free special k bar on the way out the door and trots happily off to learn about god at uni.
1 Comment 323 weeks