Fun non-gaming activities: talking filth to your girlfriend’s sister
Oh, hi! Nice to have you back!
As a recent non-gamer, I’ve tried hard to fill my time with productive, creative and above all fun pastimes, and last night I think I excelled myself. And who better to share my experience with than the entire world? So sit back, relax, and learn how to accidentally subject your girlfriend’s 17-year-old sister to a torrent of unimaginable sexual filth.
Preparation
This one is a little complicated, but it’s worth it. You need to make sure you already have the following items:
- A girlfriend whom you love very much, and who lives in another country
- The 17-year-old sister of your girlfriend, who is a very sweet, polite and innocent person, and also pretty cute (although you obviously shouldn’t mention this to your girlfriend because she will scratch her sister’s eyes out and then poop in the sockets)
Now, for this to work, your girlfriend needs to have recently moved house and be without the internet. This will make sense later.
Begin your letter
Are you ready for the big-top Embarrassment Carnival to begin? First, you should take a minute to contemplate how long it has been since you’ve seen your dearest beloved. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it. When you next see her, you’re going to do things to her, aren’t you. Just muse on those things for a while. Work out some details. Really flesh them out with a variety of scenarios and utensils.
Good! Now is the time to tell her your plans! You obviously shouldn’t do this over the phone, because that would make far too much sense. Instead, why not use the medium of email, since filth-ridden emails have never got anyone in trouble ever! Gosh, you’re a genius.
Fire up Outlook, crack your knuckles, and get started. When you’re writing a lascivious missive, you should take it easy at first. Start her off with some sweet sentiments, such as how much you miss her, and how desperately curious you are about her day. This serves a double purpose. Firstly, it will fill her heart with tender affection, making her enjoy the subsequent verbal sexplosion even more. Secondly, if anyone else happens to read the email (a sister, for example), it will give them absolutely no warning of what is to follow. Perfect.
Dig your own sexgrave
Finished your pre-amble? Now it’s time to get stuck into the offensiveness. Don’t hold back on this. Your girlfriend is the only person who will read the email, so feel free to make it an astonishingly lurid torrent of animal gratification. Creativity is a real turn-on for the ladies, so try to use your imagination as much as possible. For example, my letter contained (but was not limited to) the following items:
- A rolling pin dipped in Vegemite
- Four shaved gibbons
- A very small hell-demon tied to a stick
- The exhumed corpse of Mother Theresa
- A sackful of over-ripe kumquats, swung with tremendous force
If you’ve never written an email such as this before (and, if you have any sense of human decency, you probably haven’t) then don’t despair, for I have provided you with a handy template.
When you have finished, sit back, wipe the sweat from your brow, and take a minute to re-read your tract. If you have done it right, the text will be louche enough to make the Marquis De Sade raise his eyebrows and tut in stunned disapproval. Inanimate objects will attempt to crawl away from the screen. You will hear a faint ethereal scratching sound as St Peter crosses your name from his List. Now click “send” and smile contentedly in the knowledge that you’re about to make someone really happy.
The nightmare begins
A few hours later, the phone will ring, and you will have the following conversation.
“Hello, this is [your name here], official Sexbastard Of The Year. Whom am I addressing? Oh, hey baby!”
“Hello.”
At this point, you will realise that something is wrong, because your girlfriend’s once-soft voice is now tinged with iron. Iron and fire.
And ice.
“What’s wrong, honey?”
“You know that email you sent me? The one with the… stuff in it?”
“Hehehe. Yeeeeeeaahhh.”
“And you know how I don’t have the internet at the moment? Well, I was missing you very much, so I just phoned my sister and asked her to read your email to me.”
“Your… 17 year old… sister…”
“And she got about halfway through, then stopped. I asked her why, and she said she didn’t think she could carry on. But I made her carry on! And three sentences later, I made her STOP! Oh Jesus, [your name here], she was totally distraught! And so was I! But don’t worry, because it’s FINE!”
At this point, a delightful sensation should be creeping over your body. Your head begins to burn, your eyes blur, and your intestines feel as if they are about to fall out of your rectum. This is probably a good approximation of what Ebola feels like. In the future, every time you screw something up, you will have an instant flashback to this moment, and you will feel an uncontrollable desire to punch yourself very hard in the crotch.
Welcome, child. Welcome to Shame.
“But… but… how was I supposed to know?” you will blurt out, still trying to think of some way to get out of this.
“Because,” your girlfriend might reply, “as you know, my sister also read my emails to me yesterday. And the day before. In fact, I recall you making a flippant joke two days ago about putting something dirty in your email so my sister would have to read it. You actually joked about doing the thing that you just did.“
In the terrible silence that ensues, a thousand excuses will flash through your mind. And all of them, without exception, will be bollocks. The fact is that due to your own idiotic forgetfulness, you have left two people horrifically embarrassed and one person irreparably disturbed. And there is no way to reverse time. No way at all. In a few years, when the dust has settled, Hollywood will make a harrowing motion picture of this event, with a title like “The Filth Missive: Innocence Destroyed“.
You know what we’re having?
We’re having fun.
Now is the perfect moment to avoid meeting your girlfriend’s sister ever again for the rest of your stupid life.
Filed under: Fun non-gaming activities
So I take it there’s no way you can parlay this into a three-way with your girlfriend and her sister (in a year, of course, when she’s 18)? That’s really the only possible outcome I can imagine that benefits you in any way, although you would (and should) still feel sleazy in either case.
You sicken me.
The best thing is that this is a mistake that pretty much every guy could picture themselves making.
Oh God. I haven’t laughed this hard, yet felt so twisted and broken inside at the same time when I imagined this scenario happening to me. The only thing better than the idea, the write-up, and the email template were the pictures. I literally have tears in my eyes right now after reading this.
I love this blog.
i remember doing something similar, only via text message.. I’d had a few drinks and decided to strike up a little saucy text sex with my girl.. during which her best friend also decided to text me to organise a surprise party.
The rule here is to never, ever, try to carry on two text conversations at once, when one of them contains things that would make Alistair Crowley spit in disgust. Your girlfriend will be confused as to why you thought it was a good time to bring up shopping for no reason. Also, her best friend may need therapy for the next few years.
I wish all madlibs were like your tamplate. Maybe I should read her this blog article.
annnd by tamplate i mean template. as in not a hybrid tampon and china set.
The article was hilarious, but the pictures make it perfect. I can’t stop laughing.
Those pictures are truly a work of genius.
Especially the ’slowly realizing what has happened’ one. You do the thousand yard stare suspiciously well.
I have to thank my flatmate Dave for helping with the pictures. He has a very good eye for someone who masturbates four times a day.
I paid him back in burritos later in the evening, which was awesome, but because it took so long to take the photos, we didn’t end up eating until about 9:30. And I’m a Four Burrito Man. This morning, I feel like a ballast bag dragging down the universe.
Colonel: “So I take it there’s no way you can parlay this into a three-way with your girlfriend and her sister (in a year, of course, when she’s 18)?”
For that to happen, I would have to actually speak to, make eye contact with, and be within 3,000 miles of my girlfriend’s sister again, which I don’t think I could do without reflexively chinning myself until I fell unconscious.
I also have a sneaking suspicion her parents read this blog, in which case I’d better free up at least one evening a week for some serious crying.
Oh man, I had burritos last night as well. Word of advice: don’t combine them with mint chocolate and cider and then watch a crime show where a chick peels the skin off a guy’s hand and puts it on like a glove. I had to pause it for like ten minutes until the nausea went down.
Anyway, congrats to both of you on the great pics.
As many other people have said, the pictures seal the deal; from childish glee to broken despair in a handful of easy steps.
Is there any chance you could just hand the blog over to this Dave? Cheers.
oh man this is the funniest thing ive read in awhile im going to try this when i get the chance btw the pictures were genius
My sister read the article and found it hilarious. Not so hilarious, however, was my mom gliding past her room, poking her head in the door, and saying, “By the way, Tim was right. I DO read his blog.” As my sister describes it, her tone was “icy”.
I would like to publicly apologise to Betty’s mother. I am a nice boy, despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary, and you can rest assured that your daughter is entirely safe with me, provided she does not use my bathroom after I have cleaned the house.
It isn’t fair to make someone laugh and then make them feel absolutely despicable about it. I am literally crying with laughter over this entry, and feeling like a heel whilst I do it.
Reading this was the biggest waste of time on the internet. Not only is this story not funny, it’s overall boring and the stupidest attempt at a prank I have ever read. Shame on you sir for wasting a good stumblers time.
Congratulations Don Diego de la Vega! You win the Lack of Reading Comprehension Award for the week of 06/01/08!
He is right though, this mishap story makes a fairly awful attempt at a prank.
Not only did you not successfully pull off a prank, you failed to plan one or even MENTION one in your article.
I am also deeply displeased.
Worst prank blog ever.
Tim, I find you charming with a delightful wit. My younger daughter is still at the age of feeling guilty about everything. Therefore, I am presumed to frequently glare and apparently have an icy tone. The joys of parenthood… Of course, you should know that I do have my ways of finding out about anything that might be considered untoward (is this a word?) as it relates to my daughters… a mother’s gift. hee-hee-hee. Look forward to seeing you in January? Oh, and this was in no way a prank, faithful readers. This is the reality of life for a man named Tim. Carry on.
My mother has the same gift, honed from long years of being a teacher. I now have a deeply ingrained sense of morality, not necessarily because I strongly believe in right and wrong, but because it is inconceivable that I might commit a wrongdoing without my mother instantly knowing about it.
I only hope that when I become a father, I am able to instil the same sense of quivering mortal terror in my own children.
Oh my word, Tim, that was gold. I envy your life of wacky farce. You need to live in a house where every room has a wardrobe big enough for the maid (who, through a series of misunderstandings, is wearing only her knickers) to hide in when Betty’s mum comes to tea and brings the Vicar and your boss. Also there is a rowdy party going on in the next room. And a dead guy that everyone needs to think is alive in order for you to receive your inheritance and be permitted to marry.
This was hilarious. Oh, how I LOLed! And making me LOL on the interweb is no easy feat. Thank you! Thank youuuuu!!! Pictures were the icing on the cake (delicious embarrassment cake).
I can’t believe I’m leaving a comment to comment on a comment, not the post - but here goes!
Alison - ‘delicious embarrassment cake’? Marry me. I realize that I am a chick, and in fact already married, but that shouldn’t matter in a free country, now should it?
Tim - Hysterical. I laughed. I cried. I laughed and cried at the same time. Then I pissed myself. That might be because I’m drunk, however. Great post at any rate. I’m glad I stumbled upon you, and shall bookmark you forthwith.
Wow. Thank you all for your awesome comments. I always knew my crippling idiocy would come in handy someday.
Alison, I’m totally going to make an Embarrassment Cake. Its flavours will be heady, like the red wine you spilled in your date’s lap, yet subtle, like the first faint eggy stirrings in a crowded lift.
In portland oregon, Joan Wagar and Eric Carlson are in A Murder conspiracy together.
And Clackamas Walmart are acttively helping them by hideing Eric’s employment there from me and my family.
For over A year now Eric Carlson has been going by the name gashel, last name unknown by me, he dyed his hair black, and Walmart agreed to hide his Identity from my daughter, who also worked at that store.
Joan and Eric have friends in Authority protecting Joan and Eric from prosecution.
I have reported this repeatedly to the Authority’s and they are ignoring Joan and Eric’s CONSPIRACY.
I would be more than happy to Testify to this but the Authority’s are covering this up so my testimony would simply dissapear.
My name is Terry Wagar and Im backing up these charges.
Nomatter how many people Joan and Eric poisoned the Authority’s here in portland Oregon refuse to arrest them.
Im making these charges public because of the blatent coverup of these charges.
Thanks Terry - yeah, it was kind of embarrassing for a day or two, but everyone saw the funny side eventually. Man, I’m going to take care with my emails from now on!
Congratulations on your World Class Most Embarrassing Moment ! Real First Rate Material!
However, as an Uncle of the aforementioned girls I must say …. What was your brain doing when you sent that -ahem- “love note”? Because, if your brain was working properly, it wouldn’t have allowed such a note to be dictated by the little man in your pants. In the future take a cold shower before writing to our girl. If cold showers don’t work, drink a hot bath - its difficult to be horny when you are waterlogged to the point of drowning.
On the other hand, of course, you are now officially crass enough to be considered for U.S. citizenship. Way to go, Tim!
My brain is an uneasy ally at the best of times, and I fear my subconscious has stored up a lifetime of grudges against me, for which it delights in seeking vindication at the worst possible times.
This is basically my way of saying that nothing I ever do is my fault; it is the fault of my brain. However, I have taken steps to remedy this, namely by smacking my head repeatedly with a frying pan. Soon my brain won’t be able to mess anything up, except for basic operations such as tying shoelaces or preventing incontinence.
By the way, thank you very much for saying I’m now crass enough to become an American. It’s something I’ve coveted for a long time. I’ve cultivated a general dislike towards Muslims and Arabs (those terms are of course synonymous) and I’ve made it my personal goal to gain three pounds per week.
Sadly, even though I’m making big strides, Betty remains polite, well-spoken, and in possession of a measured and unprejudiced intellect, which means she doesn’t belong in America or England.
Next installment… a girl without a country…
Wait. She can still vote right? We need her vote. Big election coming up this year…
She’s definitely allowed to vote, but unfortunately she’s obligated to feel a deep sense of ennui approximately one year afterwards, when she becomes aware of all the broken promises and dubious compromises.
It’s a sad lot, being rational and perceptive. I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone.
The next time you see your girlfriend’s sister, you should give her a saucy wink and compliment her on what she’s done to her hair recently. You’ve set her up for complete mental breakdown, now go in for the kill!
Not a literal kill, however, for that is illegal.