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

The Breakfast Club League - Where's Yours?

The Ginger Panther

He's the five-time winner of Camberley's prestigious fastest ginger award, twice runner up in the Basingstoke ginger mini tennis league and widely acknowledged as one of the world's leading forces on ginger confectionary. They call him the ginger panther, he's fast.

Rumours of the g’panthers stair climb challenge effort spread around UCHL like wild fire, but really hot wild fire, and more wild. The scheduled ascent time was set for the holy ginger hour of 6.30pm, when all gingers are genetically encoded to unroll a life size poster of Boris Becker pheasant shooting and salute it with a smoked kipper.

The first spanner in the works came when lawyers dissected the small print of the ginger panther's insurance documentation, revealing that he wasn't ensured against sonic booms, and subsequently should he break the sound barrier in the stair well might have to foot the bill for levelling the hospital out of his own pocket, and his outfit notoriously has no pockets.

Concluding one hour of negotiations, the decision was made that the ginger panther would only ascend using 65% effort (the same amount of effort Boris Becker uses during a second serve), reducing, but not elimination the threat of a sonic boom.

When crunch time came, the ginger enigma chocked like a man who'd been told he was eating steak, but then got told it was liver mid-chew, like a sick joke. Not only forgetting to start timing his effort until floor five, the subsequent time, which did not take into account 30% of the challenge, was crap, and probably didn't merit the 4 minutes of floor based recovery while repeatedly chanting 'highest building in the world'.

The ginger panther declined to comment on his dismal effort, but his publicist said he may have been touched by a witch while ordering an omelette the day before.

The leader board remains unchanged.

Hustling Redemption

Famed for setting the absolute base level of the Stair Climb Challenge with a pathetically woeful 03:08:60, Mr. Voyce has finally found redemption. His initial time made him the target of widespread hatred as it largely degraded the human race, further fuelling the debate that stairs carry more consequence than all global religion/badminton based sports.

Leapfrogging to within lunging distance of pole position after a week of gruelling training in Cornwall, Mr Voyce can now rest easy in second place after scaling UCHL towers in 01:50:18, good.

More importantly (but not really, but kind of), Dan's taking on a triathlon around the mean streets of London at the start of August in the name of Leakemia research. Here's your chance to forgo this week's whoring session and back the big man. He's a bloody delicious chap & it's a fine cause.

Hit up www.justgiving.com/djvoyce for his sponsorship page (the link was being a bastard earlier, hopefully it works now). There's a sexual photo of me on there.

Stair Climb Challenge Leader Board 23/06/2009

1st Alex Hopson 01:42:00
2nd Dan Voyce 01:50:18**
3rd Dunc Skehens 01:55:70*

*Shower required after attempt
** Clad in performance enhancing fabric

The Glove Helmet.....Sort Of Didn't Work

As we try to secure a mainstream media deal for the rights to the stair climb challenge, innovation has been rife amongst competitors. Fronting the charge is web/events guru Hugo Lewis (his website www.hugoplanet.com is a must see), whose minimalist approach to web design and online media has been hailed the future of the internet (again, see hugoplanet.com).

In an attempt to record all 16 floors of stair mayhem in glorious motion pictures, Mr Lewis opted to don the newly developed concept helmet, The Glove.

Reverse engineered from the back to the front (which makes it proper fast) in floor 16's lab, The Glove may look like a conventional cycle helmet worn the wrong way around, with a Blackberry mobile phone lashed to the front via a medium size latex glove, however it's not.

Critics of this ground breaking technological advance have been silenced by the simply stunning footage it captured as man (Hugo) battled adversity (stairs). The future just happened.

Hugo Lewis currently sits in 3rd position with a time of 01:59:50. He estimates the down force The Glove Helmet gave him helped reduce his time by up to 7 minutes.

What's More Significant?

With this brief foray into the world of hard hitting journalism, we've discovered that the Volvo 340 is significantly more significant than the Dutch, more significant than Toad Fish's omnipresent presence in Neighbours and slightly more significant than the significance of the former 01:55:70 stair climb challenge record. I've driven two Volvo 340's in my time, they were both marvellous.

Stair Climb Challenge Fisted

Just two days after stairsman Duncan Skehens delivered a clumsy open handed slap to the previous stair climb record, the puckered up backdoor entrance to the UCHL's 16th floor has once again been sodomised.

In this instance it was stair aficionado Alex Hopson's hammer like fist that penetrated the furthest into the sub two minute barrier with a cataclysmic 01:42:00.

Though hindered with a £16.50 Gaucho burger and £7.10 of Haagen Dazs cream based produce in his stomach, apocalypse Hopson convincingly dismissed the previous record while Mr Skehens was forced to look on in wretched disgust.

Though taking on no specific training for the exercise, Mr Hopson is the only (male) athlete to have completed the challenge with shaved legs, an aggressive and sexual look that proved to be devastating.

Stair Climb Challenge Leader Board 19/06/2009

1st Alex Hopson 01:42:00
2nd Duncan Skehens 01:55:70*
3rd Hugo Lewis 01:59:50

*shower required after attempt.

The Half Lazy

The Half Lazy: A sophisticated gentlemen's non-alcoholic beverage that brings you as close to climax as you can get, without actually being anywhere near.

Conceived in the Charlotte Street Blues Bar through a shock collision of lifestyle and flavour, the half lazy is a benchmark in refined mixology. Having been likened to sex on the beach, only with completely different ingredients, and providing a similar level of enjoyment to a mid range super market jam, few words do this zenith of libation justice.

Ingredients:

2 parts fresh orange juice
1 part lemonade
splash blackcurrant cordial
edge (unquantifiable, arbitrary measure of 'edge' normally between 50-70 degrees depending on a incomprehensible number of variables including atmospheric pressure and variations in the FTSE index).

To be delivered no more than exactly halfway to climax, order yours today.

Broken People

Announcement to all fixed increment altitude jockeys. The Stair Climb Challenge should not be attempted following the consumption of large amounts of Indian cuisine (or other stuff you can eat). Though rumoured to be performance enhancing, no amount of technical outerwear could save the plight of Mr Thomas (right) and less technically clad but equally fetching, Miss Kendal (left), whose Indian experience left them languishing in the realms of mediocrity as they deposited themselves like metaphorical vomit onto the hallowed proving ground of the 16th floor.

WARNING: Stairs should be enjoyed as part of a balanced diet.

Stair Climb Challenge Record Smashed Up Proper Bad.

This is not a drill.
On the eve of the 16th of June, there's a minute chance that history books might have become significantly more useless following his titanic feat of man-endurance. Overshadowing key historical events like McDonald's release of the hat trick cheeseburger during Italia '90, it's been predicted that this seminal moment in Stair Climbing history may eclipse the release of the Reebok step in 1992.

The man was Duncan Skehens, and his time was an eloquent 01:55:70. Our team have been busy attempting to use the Time Distance Speed triangle to calculate his ground speed, but the steps are the wrong shape. The only solid comparison available to us suggests a velocity similar to that of Ultra Vox's smash hit 'Vienna' when played on vinyl.

Duncan 'Tour De Force' Skehens is also credited with completing his conquest without the aid of his signature uni-tard and Chris Boardman cycle helmet, which he religiously trains with at Bracknell's state of the art virtual reality stair climbing facility.

Stair Climb Challenge Leader Board:

1st Duncan Skehens 01:55:70*
2nd Matt Ollier 02:14:00*
3rd Andrew Pool 02:17:00*

*Shower required after attempt.

Super Extra Frickin Darts League

Things have heated up to within touching distance of Luke warm in the Super Extra Frickin’ Darts League. It saddens me to announce that my unbeaten run (which i was hoping people would respect and not actually try to beat) has come to an end. Granted i was defending it with a score of 47 out of a possible 180, which is technically classed as 'bad '.

This week’s special promotion is a free blood glucose test for the weekly high score. Bingo will vouch that despite having to pierce your finger and provide a blood sample, it's more than worth it for the meaningless and totally arbitrary number you're presented at the end. Vive la magnetic darts.

Current Stair Climb Challenge Top Three:

The stair climb challenge is one of the most revered feats of human endurance on the Tottenham Court Road. This no-holds-barred full contact race from the ground to the sixteenth floor of University Collage Hospital has been likened to a running race, jogging for around 3 minutes and intense rotational sunbathing on a slightly overcast British day. The current leader board is as follows.

1st: Bingo - 02:14:00*
2nd Spanner - 02:17:00*
3rd Loz - 02:59:00

* Shower required after attempt.

NB: For those interested in taking part in the Stair Climb Challenge please note there is a strictly enforced "No cheating unless you absolutely have to" ruling currently in place. Timings are taken in minutes and seconds but there's a proposed switch to Kilograms and grams next week.

The Spearmint Rhino Wank-Clinic Debacle

In a nut shell, this is how this utterly maverick mission unfolded.

1) 21.00: Go for a nice Japanese meal.
2) 21.45 Leave restaurant and walk past a Gentlemen’s club.
3) 21.55 Enter club and get informed we have the incorrect footwear but are able to ‘hire’ the required shoes from reception. Cue the quote, “a couple of size nines yeah” to chimp working reception. A surreal mist descends on proceedings.
4) 22.00 Make crap and unnecessary small talk to a Romanian lap dancer while drinking J2O.
5) 22.05 Realise that Voycee has rounded up a harem of the five hottest chicks in the establishment with the simple command, ‘that’s my friend (me), show him a good time’.
6) 22.10 Face takes a beating from 10 individual breasts and my brain struggles to process any of the ensuing 4 minutes of dreamlike naked pleasure. I give up fighting wood at approx. 1 minute 35.
7) 22.13 A triple decker muff pyramid is constructed in front of me. Brain momentarily appreciates the foundation work before focusing solely on the homage to ancient Egypt.
8) 22.20 Depart Gentlemen’s club.
9) 22.30 Arrive at hospital smelling of midnight sin and covered in glitter.
10) 23.00 Lack energy to purge genitals.
11) 12.10 Let instinct prevail in shower the following morning, unaware of latter fixture.
12) 12.15 Get summoned to wank clinic to deliver sperm sample as chemotherapy precaution, slot booked for 12.30pm.
13) 12.25: Spank bank fails to render any images of sufficient arousal, resort to maximum RPM thrash technique to complete task.
14) 12.30 Desperately milk shaft to try and bulk up the content of mediocre sample, limited success.
15) 12.35 Reflect on the last shambolic evening/morning before sheepishly handing over meagre sample while trying to tilt it at a favourable angle to produce an illusion of increased content.
16) 12.40 Illusion technique failed, hung out in PC world for 10 minutes before questioning what I was doing.

Anaesthetic VS. A Nice Old Women

Though not widely regarded as a point of debate, it would appear that Surrey’s Frimley Park Hospital haven’t decided which of these two options would best suit their patients.

On the one hand, anaesthetic’s properties generally involve reducing pain, while a nice old woman has no pain limiting traits, but can stroke the area being operated on.

During my last visit to said hospital I had to have a core of bone marrow removed from my hip. In this particular instance, perhaps as part of a cost cutting exercise (I’m not sure of the cost differentials between anaesthetic and 1 unit of old women), I was allocated the woman over regular pain relief.

My personal insight into this raging debate suggests that having your bones drilled while feeling all sensation (including the soothing stoking hand of an old woman) is actually quite painful. I’d image it’s on a par with some of the more left-field torture techniques out there. Luckily in addition to the soothing stroking hand of the old woman I was told I could also implement the popular pain relieving technique of deep breathing.

I feel I gave the old woman technique my best shot but on reflection, and this may sound bizarre, next time I have chunks of bone extracted from my back while conscious, I’m going to side with anaesthetic. The debate rages on…

The Leukaemia Shit-Fan Metaphor

The Leukaemia shit-fan metaphor is a little known but acclaimed means of simplifying a (Leukaemia based) scenario to such an extent that all traits contributing to the reality of the situation are stripped to make an abstract, confusing and often highly misleading simplification of the initial pretext. This scenario is rarely used in a medical context.

TLSFM in its simplest form:

Leukaemia is the metaphorical shit in this scenario. Shit, other than within some elite (but bizarrely broadening) Internet niches, is widely regarded as bad. Fans on the other hand are the good, and in this allegory represent the human body. However when you suspend shit above a moving fan, fans are not good. This is the crux of the TLSFM.

The challenge of battling Leukaemia involves both slowing the movement of the fan, and the supply of shit suspended above the fan, continually feeding it. If the shit comes into contact with the fan, shit lands on the walls and on other shit, which is in itself, is shit.

At present the most effective means of limiting the fall-out of a shit-fan collision is via chemotherapy, which is in effect like burning the whole building (containing shit, fan & all other shit) down. This leaves a smouldering wreck of a structure with no fan / shit, meaning the building can be reconstructed minus the shit, but including the glorious spinning fan.

In my current shit-fan metaphor, both shit and fan have been doused in metaphorical petrol and ignited. Fingers crossed the shit burns.