What a piece of work is a man

What kind of man gets bum implants? Well, apparently the same kind who gets his eyes widened, his jawline straightened and his ribcage shortened to allow self-fellation. And, if the strictly confidential yet poorly-guarded records were to be believed, which the court ruled that they were, the same kind of man also saw fit to have his balls enlarged, which wasn’t unheard of but usually didn’t entail the use, and indeed the tragic and eventually fatal overuse, of growth hormones and, verily, something listed only by its brand name (Mr Magoo’s Magic Nutbulge).

Choose your battles

He threw himself from the roof, picking a fight with the corner of the lower building and losing immediately, his headbutt not devastating the brickwork as he had hoped but in fact breaking his own skull open, though the snapping of his neck meant that he only had a fraction of a second to contemplate it, and no consciousness left by the time he hit the floor in a contorted mess and expired with his arse above his open gob and, you know it, a turd emitting languidly from one into the other.

Clean your room

His cock drooped pathetically, his miserable, oestrogen-riddled barrel of a body unable to sustain the insistent boner he needed to satisfy his lubricious companion who now gave up and flounced out of his mildewy basement in contempt and disappointment, closing off his only avenue for some measure of birthday action and leaving him alone to onanise lethargically and unsuccessfully as tears streamed down his flabby, acne-strewn cheeks.

My kingdom for a Talbot

She was bent over the bonnet of a car and she was getting bummed hard. That was all well and good – indeed, she had specifically requested it – but, of all the vehicles they could have chosen… well, let’s just say that if it had been a good, sturdy, four-wheeled Talbot Horizon instead of a Reliant Robin, he wouldn’t have ended up with crud all over his Johnson and she wouldn’t have ended up with her horribly scarred face splodging into a urine-soaked nettle patch.

Bundone

Yes, he had been told that this kind of surgery was not guaranteed to work perfectly, and he had signed a form saying that he understood the risk of his buttocks collapsing and bloody silicone gel draining from them down his stockinged legs, but still, he hadn’t really thought it would happen, least of all while he was giving the annual Reith Lecture.