Hand Stinky: Exploding The Myth

The hand stinky is arguably the most important sexual denomination within the immeasurable echelons of the erotic domain. It's only natural to ponder how this colossal leviathan of smut has thus far remained unknown to the recreational sex jockey, though this is sort of pondering is inherently inconsequential. The Hand Stinky is now in full effect.

The Hand Stinky

a) A hand stinky is received when either hand (port or starboard) or the fingers of ones hand (port or starboard) are inserted into an orifice typically associated with sex. This party is then the recipient of what has previously been referred to as 'the musk glove' aka, The Hand Stinky.

b) The passive partner typically has very little say in their bestowing of the Hand Stinky upon the probing hands of their sexual accomplice. An example of this may come from a gentleman who has been fingered by his girlfriend, provoking a line such as: ‘I gave my girlfriend a hand stinky last night, it was harrowing’.

c) The hand stinky is only given by the passive partner.

d) It is impossible to give a Hand Stinky to oneself unless a sequence of events not dissimilar in rarity to those seen in the 2002 blockbuster smash 'The Perfect Storm" occur, culminating in one receiving a fisting from oneself whilst completely naive to the fact that a 'Self Stinky' is occurring. This maybe the result of a Valium induced head-mental or the fall out from a 3 week long sleep deprived crossword bender.

di) Self Stinkies are banned in Hungary and most midwestern US states.

e) Power moves such as the 'German handcuffs' are typically classed as a Double Stinky. Double Stinkys are only possible if the giver is able to accommodate two hands.

f) Situations involving three or more hands are given the collective title of ‘The Stink Pit’ and thus far have only gained notoriety amongst dog breeders and Kate Bush.

Triple Coiffeur Gangbang.

As the barnet begins its predictable demise, only a fool wouldn't sieze the opportunity to sculpt a cutting edge fashion masterpiece before its eventual annihilation. Sit back and behold this disturbing collision of a mullet (complete with undercut), a mohawk, and a completely ignored fringe sort of thing*. You saw it here for the first time, and if feedback is anything to go by, probably the last time.

*Fat face optional.

French Naval Fusion, Milan's barely ready, are you?

The brief was simple: To achieve an outfit of equal or greater potency to David Hasselhoff's seamen; a substance so potent it has been rumored to have been used as a substitute for Wasabi and some varieties of English mustard in Anglo-Japanese Fusion restaurants in and around Kent.

The only option was to combine two of the most revered pillars of homosexuality, the Navy, and the French (the remaining two pillars; all you can eat Quiche buffets and archery were just too volatile to be used safely at room temperature). The result, an oblique synthesis of classic French lounge weaves with elements of Naval crochet (specifically the Cutty Sark era) and subtle undertones of 90's tennis apparel.

The question, are London town's skinny jean clad streets ready for a look so potent? Cast your votes opposite, for we have the power to bring sophistication back to London's bevy of beguiled fashion excreta.

Voycee's Triathlon Press Release

Readers will be pleased to hear that Dan (aka the unstoppable leisure machine) has been really pushing himself for the upcoming London Triathlon. His brutal 'training' regime has seen him pushed to the limits of human endurance on Richard Branson's private island in the British Virgin Islands. Not stopping there, he even knuckled down for a back-to-back training session in St. Tropez. So, if you've ever wondered how Mr. Voyce stays in such good shape, i think we've just exploded any myths, it's plain simple dedication.

Here's what Voycee's PR man concocted for his upcoming Triathlon epic. I particularly like the reference to windsurf pro, which is technically correct before anyone questions it. And for those of you who haven't parted with any cash, the big man still needs to hit 3k. Stop being tight, it's not like we're in a recession and getting shafted by an incompetent labour government. Hit up http://original.justgiving.com/djvoyce/ for Voycee's sponsorship page. Any donations are much appreciated, it's a solid cause.

City of Westminster Resident takes on triathlon in support of friend

City of Westminster resident Daniel Voyce is hard in training for the Mazda London Triathlon on Sunday 2 August 2009. He is raising money for the charity Leukaemia Research in support of a close friend who is suffering from the disease.

Daniel Voyce, 32, was in training for the Blenheim Palace triathlon on 6 June this year when he got the news that his friend Andrew Buchanan, known as ‘Buzz’, had been diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukaemia at the age of 27.

Daniel said: “Buzz is a laid back, fun fit windsurfing pro and chemotherapy is tough on him but he is taking it all very well so far. I originally started doing triathlons for fun and fitness without sponsorship but when Andrew was diagnosed I wanted to do something more pro-active.”

“I’m committed to doing a variety of events to raise money for Leukaemia Research in order to support Buzz during his treatment.”

Daniel is taking on the ‘Olympic’ distance at the London Triathlon consisting of a 1500m swim, 40 km cycle and 10km run. He is running as part of Leukaemia Research’s ‘Banana Army’ triathlon team, sponsored by TVTimes and Adidas. He will be running with a variety of TV and film celebrities such as Hollyoaks’ Ray MacAllan, Mark Lewis Jones (Master and Commander), and Holby Blue’s Richard Harrrington. Since 1982, well-known faces from the world of TV and film have completed in triathlons and runs to raise millions of pounds in support of Leukaemia Research’s vital work.

At the 2008 Mazda London Triathlon, the Banana Army raised over £100,000 for research into better treatments and cures for leukaemia, lymphoma and myeloma. They are hoping to beat that total this year. For more information on the Banana Army and its range of running and triathlon events, visit www.banana-army.com

Daniel has already raised more than £2,500 for Leukaemia Research and hopes to raise much more. If you would like to support him, you can visit his fundraising website at www.justgiving.com/djvoyce .

Urban Surrealism: The end of round 1.

Chemotherapy bouts last around 1 month, during which time a team of very nice doctors and nurses get tooled up in bio hazard waste disposal suits and pump you full of neon coloured chemicals while masking their obvious fear of a 'spill' through a forced smile. This vague reassurance does little to combat the fact they they're wearing protective gear to administer chemicals that are getting pumped directly into your veins, but the gesture's there all the same.

The most surreal point in my existence would come following my fourth week of treatment, when i'd received the entire month's load of neon chemical abuse. During this time i'd been exported from the hospital to the hotel over the road as i was deemed fit enough to use the day care unit. This hotel room would provide the stage for the most bizarre 48 hours of my life thus far:

To kick things off, natural light became my worst enemy so the hotel's blackout curtains were utilized to block all external light sources from the room. My last blood count indicated i'd got under half the oxygen carrying capacity of a healthy human and my immune system was non existent, factor in that i had over 20 different chemicals pulsing around my body, most killing perfectly healthy cells. The result was that i was pretty much a shell of a human.

The following 48 hour period was spent drifting in and out of consciousness in said blacked out room with sky news 24 on constant loop. I didn't want sky news on, but the remote was probably 30cm out of my reach and i physically couldn't muster the energy to grab it.

This is where it started to get weird. With Sky news on tv, i started incorporating elements of the news into my dreams. I'd then wake up and have literally no idea if i'd been sleeping or watching the news. Then the news loop would come around to a story i'd be dreaming about but it would be different to what i had in my head. Utter confusion ensued.

Everything came to a head when i finally had to get up for a shit. As i summoned all the energy i had to get off the bed i saw the tv clock offered me the time as 6.24. Staggering past I realized i had absolutely no idea if that was morning or evening.

I collapsed onto the toilet and surprisingly all went well at this critical stage, well, until my eye caught a glimpse of the contents. I later found out that impaired liver function was to blame for this but at the time it was just another beautiful element in my surreal landscape. Basically i'd laid a selection of pale pink turds floating in a sea of almost black, slightly viscous urine.

Unsure if i was actually awake and unaware of if it was day or night this didn't help my state of confusion. The final blow would come as i exited the toilet en route to bed. As i left the bathroom i was greeted by a full length mirror. Thus far i hadn't really looked at myself in the mirror and i wasn't exactly expecting what i was greeted with.

My skin was totally yellow, and the whites of my eyes had turned the colour of tea from my poor fucked liver. My face was almost perfectly round and my belly had ballooned so i was epicly fat, all courtesy of a mammoth dose of cancer killing steroids. My arms were littered with puncture marks from the numerous daily injections and my leg muscles had withered so much i looked like two tooth pics supporting an apple shaped body.

Luckily for me my body had selectively turned off any ability to contact emotion, so this strange image acted as just another surprising vision in my crazy world. I continued to venture back to bed, again seeing the time and having no idea if it was day or night. That sleep concluded the most surreal 48 hours of my life.

I'm currently chemical free and recovering from round 1 at home. Piss and shit have returned to their normal colours, the yellow skin and brown eyes have gone, the excessively fat belly is retreating and the face, well it's pretty fat but it's on the way down.

Round two starts in a week. Lets see what this one delivers.....

Breakfast Club League Leader Board: 04-07-2009

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Breakfast Club League Leader Board: 03-07-2009