Ryan McCue’s Blog

What follows is a night well spent on #brisbanecreative. Each person wrote up to a sentance each and we continued each others stories. Hover over a line to see who wrote it. Enough talking, let’s begin:

“Fuck you”,
Sally muttered
while she
sat down
on the
quite peculiar
floor. She
was not
impressed with
SHRIKEE’s lack
of intelligence.
She could
not take
any more
of it.
“Not again”,
said SHRIKEE,
while unwrapping
the dog.
He only
had himself
to blame
for the
large hole
in his
anus.
Sally quit
her job
because she
had a huge
pile of
magazines under
her pillow
. The pile
contained such
filth that
her boss
wanted to
let her
bend over
and let him
touch her
under her
belt. So
she decided
that she
would not
allow him
to grope
her udder.
She couldn’t decide
who would be allowed
to touch the
udder. Which is
her favourite body part so she had to be careful about
letting anyone rub their
greasy paws on
her. So she quit.
It was a new beginning for Sandy, no longer did she want to think about her udder, a body part that no human should have.
Sally just wanted to be like all the other girls at school, with their
udderless bellies.
She decided to look up udderless in the
urban dictionary, what she found was
that normal
girls refer to them as bewbs
and that they are normally placed
higher on the chest but an udder did have its benefits such as,
giving milk, and stimulate the
navel more directly
now that she had four
teats.
Sally was soon known as the super-navel-stimulator.
which scared the boys at first…
until they too tried the
naval stimulation that Sally could provide them.
Sally wasn’t happy yet, she still
could only pleasure 4 guys at once.
She contacted a VET to see if they had more
transplant udders lying about unused, she was surprised to find
that they didn’t keep them in storage
but that they were infact looking for udder-donors.
and especially udders that could be mounted on her back, which is a special treat for men.
Sally died on operating table trying to get a 10th udder attached. The End.