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mitcham maffia

Eightee Twoo Shades of Grey

25 posts in this topic

Basically last year I posted some excerts of a biography I was writing and much to my surprise they got a bit of attention. As a result I have started typing them up in a proper book format. I thought I would post them here to make sure they are readable because v.i.p forum members know their shit.

Part 1

I remember the first time that we fucked. That very next morning I went to the graveyard next to the library and walked around not a thought in my mind but at the same time everything rushing through my consciousness and my soul. I met an old man taking care of one the graves and on passing by, he spoke to me as if he had known me since I was a young boy (I was twenty-eight years old now). He told me that it was his twin brother in the grave. I told him that that was sad and gave sympathetic nods as I listened to him glad to have someone to talk to. We talked for a couple of minutes and although I don't remember the rest of our conversation I still remember the feelings that I had that morning, I felt as if I existed in the moment for once. It made my body and mind feel numb. I'd often go to the graveyard when I felt like dying or ripping my head in to pieces, sometimes to the park, or inside the old deserted Wimbledon football ground, also for a walk by the canal. Sounds peaceful walking by a canal but not when you feel a knife rapidly stabbing you with heavy blows deep inside your very being. I even jumped into the canal once on the afternoon of nineteenth birthday and tried to kill myself. The water was freezing cold but felt so fresh on my acne ridden skin. I tried to kill myself because all I really wanted to do was live and be normal not some disgusting greasy slimy revolting skinny sickening freak. I began to panic as I felt my body resisting death not even allowing me to swallow water into my lungs and as I struggled to stand I realized what appeared to be a deep stream was in fact shallow. I climbed out with great difficulty perhaps scraping my skin on the concrete sides and hid around a corner attempting to dry off. With the freezing January London weather this was hopeless; I was in danger of catching pneumonia so I decided to walk home soaking and dripping wet. When I got home I gave my mum a stupid excuse as to why I was in the state I was. She didn’t believe me. My life was shit.

-8

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Surprised you have not replied to Dappy :lolno:

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Looking at things now your life is still shit mate

-1

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Part 2

My toothpick skinny British born Asian half cousin two months my junior but ten years my senior in his deceitful lying World drove down from Hayes to pick me up later that night with someone from his “crew.” I felt like he was coming to gloat at the fact that I had nowhere to go on my birthday and definitely no one else to spend it with. His snide grin as I nervously opened the door hiding my excitement confirmed my feelings. He started grabbing rap cds from my well arranged collection in my rack (a gift from my uncle) as if a kid in a sweet shop the same day their mum got a piece of good news. I knew I would never get them back but pretended to find it hilarious that we were so close that he could take what he wanted from my room. His friend drove us back to my cousin’s house which he had to himself as his “militant” dad had gone back to visit his home of Pakistan and sat around playing WWE Smackdown a wrestling game on the Playstation through the night. I drank my first "alchopop" too that night which my cousin had bought for me, my first sip of alcohol aged nineteen. It made me throw up the next morning apart from which it didn't do anything for or to me. My mum knew I’d been drinking the next day from all the sounds coming from the kitchen as I bent over the sink throwing up violently like a p*ssy.

-1

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Throwing up from a smirnoff ice? Wheredeydodatat

2

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Part 3

Fast forward a few years and I’ve got a job as a steward, working big London sporting venues and Wembley Arena basically a cattle farm where they herd up lots of desperate naïve students desperate for work and treat them like exactly that cattle whilst working for peanuts. In order to legally hold a sporting event in London you need to have a minimum number of stewards which means that as people may not turn up to work due to illness, laziness or a ridiculous hangover for instance then they will call more workers than they need which when everyone turns up means they will send you away for an equally ridiculous reason as the hangover. In my case it was not having shiny shoes, being a few minutes late or wearing the wrong fabric trousers (shiny blue ones from my previous employment for Jewish company Sainsburys.) When I found out the wrestlers of WWE RAW were coming to London this was an opportunity I couldn’t miss being a wrestling fan all through primary school until my mother forced me to go to a private school where the intellectuals preferred to play conkors. However I got back into it when I went college during the attitude era which took child aimed entertainment and made it raunchy. If you don’t know RAW is a flag ship American wrestling show which along with the Simpsons is one of the longest running ever shows in the history of television. Thankfully I was working Wembley Arena at the time and made sure I arrived early with everything about me up to standards desperate to watch the show taking place live.

-1

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YOU LOOK LIKE PHIL MITCHELL/ JOHN WAYNE WITH THAT SQUISHED HEAD MATE

-1

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Part 4

Entering the arena…. I saw Kane billed as a 7 foot monster running over his routine for his match later that night with a rookie wrestler. He looked at me as I stood nearby for a brief period and I am pretty sure he thought I was there as a lookalike or fan of his or perhaps someone brought in to play a role with him on screen (at least I would like to think so). We both had a similar appearance of a short almost skinhead hairstyle with a serious look of grimace on our faces which appeared to be a permanently fixed expression for us. After our briefing we (the stewards) went to our posts and my heart appeared to stop beating and time stopped existing as I could not believe the situation I was in, behind the scenes at a wrestling event. I took a look around and the majority of Asian stewards around me seemed oblivious to this, obviously not wrestling fans not having a clue where they were. Across from me I saw WWE Star HHH sitting on a chair casually playing on his phone. This guy started off as insignificant in American wrestling and by making the right friends and connections and then eventually marrying the company’s owner Vince McMahon’s daughter is now one of the most dominant wrestling figures in history. When some WWE divas ran past HHH he didn’t even look up. These are by far some of the most beautiful women in the World and he didn’t even look up. That taught me something right there although I am not sure what exactly but something to do with all that glitters not being gold, or resisting a woman’s charms or the influence of having a strong woman by your side (Stephanie McMahon). In front of me was wrestler Shelton Benjamin who looked up at me making eye contact, he had a baby with him whom he showed proudly to WWE Diva Ivory. Directly across the stadium stood two Candian wrestlers drinking out of paper cups Edge and Chris Benoit. They stood out from everyone else as they appeared humble as they seemed to be sharing some sort of intimate conversation. Every now and again they would look over at me staring at them with a star struck expression that I was probably trying to hide and then get back to the conversation. They seemed sad as they looked over at me as if they were calling out for help and then they said their goodbyes to one another and went on their separate ways. I sensed a deep sense of respect between the two. Edge was forced to retire from 8 years later due to not being given clearance by doctors to wrestle with a high chance of him becoming paralyzed if he did, Chris Benoit on the other hand in 2004 murdered his wife and choked his disabled son to death after which he placed a pair of Bibles next to the bodies and hung himself. Police say the ordeal lasted a few days. When I found out the news I went to my bedroom and cried hysterically. If we hadn’t shared a very brief moment together I think I would have found the news entertainment but I cried.

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read sporadically, the first half of part 2 I read in Alan Bennetts voice it sounded like a miser had wrote it, if you can confirm the rest continues in this vein i will read more

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Part 5

When I was sixteen a few years prior Danusia Brightwell gave me my first hug outside Kingston college. We were hardly acquaintances and I twitched afterwards in surprise as my best friend (best as in one I spent the most time with) gave me a jealous look of grimace. In class Danusia would literally not know I was there I was invisible to her but outside class if I was too bump into her (which happened often) she would flirt highly (which she did with almost every other guy with a pulse). This girl had long blonde hair and huge breasts with bright eyes, she smoked and I smoked she was the perfect female in my eyes. When I did bump into her we would walk around, sometimes share headphones and I would listen to her talk while I was almost a mute as my heart would be beating out my chest at the shock of being with a girl so beautiful next to me. I had severe acne at the time which I would cover up with a Clearisil cream which sometimes would make me look better than I would without it but sometimes would create streaks across my skin looking like a bad foundation. I didn’t know how to dress and would wear baggy clothes to cover up the fact that I had a chunky body on top of two skinny legs. Danusia would sometimes run up to me screaming and hug me like she loved me but this was nothing I took seriously as she done it with many guys around college. I was insecure and certain looks guys gave me as I walked around with her shouted loud and clear; “How the fuck is someone that sexy hanging around with you!” I was obsessed with this girl I would literally think about her every second of my waking day. I knew I would never stand a chance with her which made me feel torture and very restless. I once got the idea to invite her to a Mariah Carey concert and bought the tickets with intentions of asking her out to it. I went on the prayer mat and prayed to God that she would say yes. Then I walked to the phone box with her house number in my hand with the intentions of asking her out to the concert. I phoned her number almost fainting with terror. She picked it up from one end and her mum picked it up from the other end. She was crying “mum let me talk to …..” meaning her boyfriend. I had called her up in the middle of an argument with her boyfriend. We talked for about a minute awkwardly at which point I asked her. There was an uncomfortable silence after which time she told me to ask her again later. When I did that she told me she would be working. I ended up going to the Mariah Carey concert alone after missing the first half because I was too embarrassed to go in alone. Ten years later with the advent of the mobile, blackberry, internet, social networking it is easy for me to track down lost friends including Danusia who I haven’t seen since college and who I manage to add on Facebook. In her pics she doesn’t look anywhere near as nice as she used to. Her blonde hair is now brown and she looks a bit more troll like than she used to. Four-thirty and I am sitting on Facebook chat I am awake already or maybe I haven’t been to sleep as I am going to America that day with my family (for about the third time) when Danusia pops up on chat. She tells me she is coming to see me and can I pay for the taxi. I can’t believe my luck but a bit annoyed that it happens when I have somewhere to go in a few hours. Long story short I end up paying for her taxi and she comes in to my bedroom. She doesn’t look anything like she used to well she does but not as good but fuck it she was the apple of my eye, my teenage crush the girl I probably masturbated over while lying in bed nights before and after college and she is in my bedroom all alone with me. She tells me about working in clubs and owning properties and we share some alcohol that she has brought round. Finally she hints at going to bed with me and I am not feeling nervous in the slightest having been with a number of women by this point. We end up in bed together where I start grabbing on her tits and feeling her ass with oomph. She is pretending to sleep as I pull down her pants and finger her p*ssy. She isn’t wet at all and her ass feels like cottage cheese. This is the first white girl I ever been so close too and my d*ck has shrunk almost as if going into my body leaving nothing but the helmet. Refusing to believe this is happening I squash a condom on and try shoving it on her p*ssy. She feels down to check if there is a rubber on it and I’m thinking what a slut as she was just talking for a while about her black DJ boyfriend. Fuck this is hopeless I give up trying to fuck her, she is nowhere near as attractive as she used to be and go to sleep. In the morning I basically chuck her out after giving her a cup of tea and have never seen her since except for on facebook.

1

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How did u manage to write t.roll with out it changing to stupid prick?

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How did u manage to write t.roll with out it changing to stupid prick?

Tro ll

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Part 6

Later that day my mum, brother and I head off to the airport. One of our relatives in America has bribed us to come over by paying for our tickets which we are thankful for although aware that this is pretty much just a family visit but over the pond rather than across London. By now I am an alcoholic meaning doing anything remotely requiring any type of social interaction requires me to down a large consumption of alcohol. I have to conceal the alcohol being a muslim and not wanting anyone to know the secret to my confidence which I would do by putting it in soft drink bottles or buying miniatures. Sometimes I would load up a bottle and then wait till the social interaction will be at its highest before downing the whole lot in a few sips. Examples include drinking a vast amount of alcohol before going on a long journey or a family get together or in the que of the club not to enjoy the club more but because I could not handle standing in a que with nothing but my thoughts perhaps. On this occasion the thought of going airside to where I coincidently had previously just worked and then boarding a flight was too much to handle and I gulped down a bottle full of vodka and a purple can of KA (a Jamaican branded popular London beverage.) Suddenly I would feel fearless and bulletproof as most people would have drunk so much so quickly. I’d like to think my drinking was not too obvious as I tried my best to hide the effects and got through security pretty much as normal. That’s when I got to airside the place where I had left work without warning and the excitement of being back overtook me. Seeing Paul a fat oaf who I used to work with caused me to rush at him in excitement where he returned the love for a few seconds. He showed me a guy who had replaced me and then I asked where the rest were. Matt and Karen were supposedly on a different section called Terminal B or something like that and I just couldn’t miss the opportunity to confront them after my absence. I jumped on board the shuttle and was whisked away to the other section where I saw Matt who had washed his greasy hair for once. I ran at him and started rubbing his hair shouting “Matty Boy” my nickname for him which he detested. Then I saw Karen walking towards me with two Malteser bags in her hand staring in disbelief at me as if she had seen a ghost. I told her to shake my hand alcohol now rushing through my system at which she refused so I went mad at Matt telling him he had caused me to lose my job (which he was involved in) and so had Karen. Karen stood out of harms way telling a Sikh worker in a turban that I was not joking I was serious. For some reason I started telling Matt I loved him he was like a brother to me and walked off intending to go back to the other section whilst telling one of the workers that they should stick with their job. Having spent hundreds of hours with Matt I guess telling him what I did was me saying I missed some aspects of the job. I don’t know. By now I’m on the shuttle back to section A the only one on it apart from a woman who says in a rude way why am I going back. Fuck! That is when it hits me that I no longer have my security pass for working in the airport so I am now in pretty much a worker only area of the airport. This is post 9/11 so obviously security is very tight at an airport. Not only this I don’t have my passport or ticket on me I left them with my mum. Meanwhile my mother is having breathing problems thinking I have run away not wanting to go America or something crazy like that. I am stressed because I know how stressed she will be and I am taken to the security check in to argue with them to let me back. While I’m here I am dropping my spending money everywhere and having go at the workers telling them stupid stuff like I’m going to add them on Facebook. Long story short after many phone calls they finally let me through and on my way to departures with a Sikh Asian girl in a turban who doesn’t appreciate me touching her turban (remember I was drunk). After what seems like a fifteen minute walk I finally get to the place you board the plane at which point an asian security guard looks at me cockily and says “here he is the one whose holding the plane up.” This caused me to blow up at which point I shout “I used to work in World Duty Free you fucking pusssy” and grab my passport from someone who was holding it for me who just happened to know my brother. Once on the transport to the plane I meet my brother and mum who look like they have just been two rounds with Mike Tyson.

3

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For a second I thought this was going to be about 8T2 telling us the story of when he walked in on his sister getting doggied & offering the guy a custard cream

5

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For a second I thought this was going to be about 8T2 telling us the story of when he walked in on his sister getting doggied & offering the guy a custard cream

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For a second I thought this was going to be about 8T2 telling us the story of when he walked in on his sister getting doggied & offering the guy a custard cream

:rofl:

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LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL

FACK

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Part Seven

My brother decides to say something off the cuff which sends me off again and I shout out “security made me late does anyone have a problem with that?” silence “just my brother then, the one who goes on “sane trips”, referencing the time he ran away from his holiday resort in Egypt and ended up in a mental hospital for the second time. I slept like a dead man on the plane and in retrospect it was a good thing because the journey to Philidelphia felt like twenty minutes. Later the guy who handed me at the passport told my brother on facebook that I was lucky to have got on that plane. I promised myself I would never down a whole bottle of vodka mixed with some purple KA ever again at an airport.

Sometimes I would get ready for college and look in the mirror and be so sickened by what I saw that I would promise myself I would not go in that day. This happened often during my college days where not a lot of emphasis was put on students attending classes. I could not stay at home as my mum would get suspicious and I didn’t want her to know how fucked I felt mentally and physically. So I would go out and walk around my area in the most pointless trip ever. Sometimes I would walk so much my legs would hurt. I would walk all the way to Clapham Junction as this would make me come face to face with less people as possible without staying in the same area for too long or walk behind my house on a long footpath next to the River Wandle the same place where I had previously attempted suicide. It was on one of these walks next to the canal that I needed a piss so I looked up at the hill leading up to a huge dumping ground and climbed up there to piss against the wall. I was pretty high up and I heard a squeek which interrupted the euphoria of the urine coming out. Next to my face was a massive tail pink in colour long and very curly which would be about a meter if stretched I’m guessing, either way it was huge, I saw the back foot of the animal which was also pink with white fur. It was a rat that was struggling knowing someone had come close to it, that is all I can think it was a rat that had been feeding on the garbage for so long it had grown to epic proportions; I’m talking Guiness Book of Records size. I ran down the hill faster than Linford Christie and thinking of that creature is always certain to make my skin crawl.

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