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Sport hurts...

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    Sport hurts...

    Check out the gym stories, half way down...

    http://www.b3ta.com/newsletter/issue387/
    ‎"See, you think I give a tulip. Wrong. In fact, while you talk, I'm thinking; How can I give less of a tulip? That's why I look interested."

    #2
    In case people didn't bother:

    POP - "I’d just done a weight session, had a
    quick shower, and was laying face down on a
    gurney stark bollock naked with a towel
    covering my modesty, waiting to have a warm
    down massage. This was the normal routine, and
    it was a proper massage place, not one of those
    dodgy backstreet places where you get a blowjob
    from a fifteen year-old Lithuanian). The man
    who did the massaging was Frank. He oiled me up
    and started on my shoulders, smoothing out the
    tension, making me feel relaxed. Frank moved
    onto my lower back, my body made a series of
    lovely clunking noises. Frank started on the
    top of my thighs and, as Frank was busy
    kneading away, his hands all oily and slippery,
    I sneezed really violently. My arse shot
    backwards. And Frank’s thumb lodged firmly up
    my brown bullet wound like a cork in a bottle.
    I let out a scream. So did Frank. Frank
    attempted to remove his thumb from my arsehole
    but because I was suddenly (and *******
    surprisingly) tense, I sort of clamped tight
    round him. Frank’s thumb was stuck! I howled in
    agony. Eventually Frank came free and, panting,
    I rolled onto my front, towel tossed aside. And
    I realised Frank was gazing in fear at my
    willy. I looked down. I was harder than set
    concrete. Frank must’ve tickled my prostate.
    And all he said was, "You’ll be wanting some
    tissues for that." I’ve never been to a gym
    since." (Big Grant)


    * PLOP - "When I was in my mega fit phase I
    used to go every day in my two hour lunchtime.
    The gym was great because it provided all the
    clothes and stuff to wear so I didn’t need to
    bring anything with me. I was doing some bench
    presses and I strained so much that I did a
    poo. A half solid poo. As I wasn’t wearing my
    underwear to stop them getting all sweaty, my
    poo flew straight out of the gap in my shorts
    and onto the floor. Worse, this was accompanied
    by a very loud raspberry. People who didn’t
    have headphones turned to look at me. Some
    people came over to stare and be disgusted. I
    honestly thought I had snapped my farting
    strings. My entire body was incandescently red
    with embarrassment. Even worse, I couldn’t lift
    the weights back due to being tulip-fit
    weakened. Trying very hard to get the weight
    from my neck and onto the hook, it happened
    again. This was more diarrhoea now, and I had
    managed to pump my slurry even further. It hit
    the closest girl watching in the eye.
    Eventually I pushed my way past the crowd, and
    ran. As I left, I glanced back to see a good
    half metre trail of excrement. Some less than
    stout-hearted people were crying. No one said a
    word. Left my stuff there. Never went back."
    (powervator)
    Hard Brexit now!
    #prayfornodeal

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