50 Shades of Chav (shamelessly pinched from someone else)


Shamelessly pinched from someone else….

“As he approached with those pasty white arms hanging out of his Gola vest, his smile told me it was benefit day and I knew my velour tracksuit would be hanging off the lampshade tonight” “ It was Wayne’s birthday. I was preparing his special tea of Findus pancakes and pot noodle. I would let him take me any way he wanted tonight. His favourite position was what he called the dogs of war. Where he took me from behind and played call of duty at the same time” “our 6 week anniversary was approaching. This would be my longest relationship without becoming pregnant. I thought of this as he lay on top of me making love. His skinny arms straddled my head like breadsticks either side of an orange. As I rubbed his whiter that white back I imagined every mole I felt was spelling out Braille for “ I Love You” As I stood in line at the job centre thinking of reasons I couldn’t work, a sweet smell drifted past my pig nostrils. It was a mixture of weed, BO and Lynx Africa. I turned around and there was Dwayne. Our eyes met and he was soon lifting me onto the wheelie bins behind Iceland. He had tied up his staffy to block the ally way so we wouldn’t be disturbed. There was a tramp watching but it just added to the mystery. I knew it was love and my life would never be the same.” “My mum told me to leave Dwayne many times due to violence but I knew he loved me as he always took his rings off before he hit me. Tonight though he was in a foul mood, I had **** his tea up after failing to de-frost his prawn ring I had nicked from farm foods. He picked up a power lead from my kids mega drive and whipped it across my doughy ****. It stung but I liked it. I shouted again and again so he carried on. I thought my shell suit would rip into a million pieces. As I looked over my shoulder I saw his Weetabix toothed smile. He even had a semi-on which is rare as crack normally played havoc with his erections…………………..”

Author: Mark S Thompson

Okay, so these things are kind of hit and miss. If you’re reading this then I am thankful to you for taking the time out of your day to do so. I’ll be honest, when I think of myself as a writer, I kinda cringe. Don’t get me wrong, it is the dream, it's​ just I never really believe it will go anywhere. When I think back to the day that I first knew I loved writing, and I mean really knew, I see myself sitting in an English lesson at secondary school. The school was called Wrotham and is in the county of Kent, England. As far as I know, it's still there. English was far and away my favourite subject. The best bit was when the teacher gave the class a selection of words and asked us to make up a story that either contained those words or was about those words, you know. At other times we would be given the first sentence and then write what happens next. Good times. Many times my work would reflect what I had recently read and it would be okay. Nothing special, just okay. On one occasion though I wrote about a merman called Finchy and can remember going into so much depth and detail about him and the underwater kingdom he lived in. I really enjoyed writing that and it must have shown because my teacher commented on it. She was really impressed and loved the story. That was it for me, my moment. Now when I write I think back to those great times and to that story. Hopefully, I’ll write something that you, the reader, will be moved to comment on. For me, there is no greater elixir

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