Penis Enlargement.

Over a pint with lovely young woman and dear friend last eve she told me of a time long ago when, strapped for cash, she joined a club band. These northern gigers knew the scene. Beatles, Stones, Hendrix et al covers, loud fuz boxes and brazen falsetto trouser thrusting. They gave her a Strat to play and suggested a push up bra, red lipstick, miniskirt and tights. She was not though a lady of that direction. She suggested new material but was met with, “Eh lass, thea can’t teach ‘em.” These students of human nature knew what was required. Anything new that’s more than a gnat’s penis away from what we expect and want to hear will not even feature as a blip on the radar. After this story and the relative success of my entry, “Big Brother with Guns” I realised my titles must leap out of search engines with the allure of numerous magnificent plumped up breasts presented on something the size of a dinner tray, so expect future entries like, “Bum Bomb Reality”, “Dogging with Guns, “Sex Romp in Excrement” and “My sheep won’t take it up the bum anymore, with Guns.” That’s for the Welsh separatists. So here I go strapping on a Strat, lipstick done, miniskirt on and my amp up to eleven, it’s Penis Enlargement Time.