LONDON JAN 2006 - I LIKE TO FOOK!

I was impervious to the Pakistani creeping about outside our guardhouse because I knew I'd be leaving the country soon. Mike was impervious for different reasons. His mission in life was, as he put it, to fook. After a few months of security work in London he rushed back to Lagos to fook his brains out. All it seemed to take was a reasonably new car and a few gold chains and it was possible to fook from sunrise to sunset.

'Nigerian gals are fit!' Mike informed me from his side of the office. In the meantime though, while he was stuck in London doing security work and saving up for his fook spree, Mike phoned whores and arranged to meet them the following morning, when his shift was over. When he spoke to these whores his standard line was, not surprisingly, I like to fook! This was invariably followed by him scowling at his feet and launching into five minutes of confused, mumbling negotiation because their prices always seemed to go up after this announcement.

Mike told me, 'You never seen somebody like me. I can poowah seven times!
Poowah? Pour. As in pour your semen. Every time his great buttery buttocks convulsed over some suffering London prostitute that was one pour. In the trade you either pay for the amount of pours, or for the amount of time you spend with the prostitute. If you wanted one pour it was a straight screw, over in say fifteen minutes, and you forked out £40. If you wanted two hours of her time you forked out about £70 and you could pour as many times as you liked. Most men manage about three pours in two hours.

'But me! I poowah seven times! Those gals can't believe it! They never seen someone like me!'