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Kriss Akabusi

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    Originally posted by dom9 View Post


    GuadalupePorter

    "Its not about the long ball or the short ball, its about the right ball." Bob Paisley

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      Akabusi on mastermind now reminded me of this epic thread.

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        Me too!

        AWOOGA

        *Except Michael, who died.

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          An original from 2007, penned by me:

          Akabusi sat uncomfortably in the cheap and nasty economy class seats of Nigerian Air Flight C758 to Lagos. Ever since fellow Olympian Sharron Davies had filed a sexual harassment lawsuit against him economy class had been all he could afford. Akabusis sighed again at the injustice of it all, he didn't mean to upset her and wondered how she could take offence to his comment that he'd bought a TiVo just so he could record footage of her perky nips as she presented the BBC's Olympic swimming coverage so he could crack one off as often as he liked.

          Akabusi reached up and pressed the air hostess call button for the 10th time in 15 minutes so that the same air hostess with funbags the size of two spacehoppers approached his seat he felt his massive ebony spear rustle in his cotton primark tighty whities..

          The hostess drew nearer and Akabusi noticed the look of pure lust on her face and he was sure she would allow him to plunge his spear in and out every hole, Akabusi grinned a sly smile knowing he would plant his now throbbing cock into her with more precision than US pole vault prodigy Alison Stokke...

          Akabusi was a sexual hunter, perhaps the baddest predator on the planet - well except for the stingray that killed Steve Irwin of course. The nubile young hostess was just about to position her wet, dripping clunge over the pointed tip of Akabusi's samurai sword when suddenly the "fasten seatbelts" sign was illuminated, Akabusi peered over the gasping hostesses heaving breastage to see that Kerry Katona had broken into the cockpit again...

          "Why do they call it a cockpit if there's no cock in there!" Katona wailed "Oi Katona, stuff this in your gob instead you fat slaaaag" roared Akabusi, tossing her a packet of Iceland mini sausage rolls followed by a bag of frozen yorkshire puds.

          Akabusi then turned back to the hostess, he noticed her expression had changed from one of lust and excitement to one of sheer disappointment, the same look he had seen on Madeline McCanns face that night in Portugal when she realised that the man banging on the door of her holiday villa claiming to be Santa Claus was just Akabusi in a Chinese olympic team tracksuit he had stolen during Seoul '88


          The hostess was making her way back to the front of the cabin to fasten herself in when Akabusi grabbed her on the shoulder and pulled her back onto his lap, he wasnt going to let that cock-crazed nympho slag Katona get inbetween him and the hostess, he could tell she needed his ripe African seed like Diana needed an airbag or Michael Owen needed a release clause in his contract with the barcodes.

          Akabusi leapt out his seat, his massive ebony elephant trunk swinging out his dungarees like Peter Parker swinging through New York, knocking a bag of complimentary roasted peanuts out of Dale Wintons hands, "Christ" Akabusi thought to himself "why are there so many z-listers on this flight", he noticed Winton staring at his cock and he roared with laughter, "bet you cant fit this badboy in your trolley Dale!" he cried .


          Akabusi was then drawn back to the hostess by the smell of her ripe clunge, the aroma of Jungle Fever in the cabin was so intense he could see the other passengers reaching up for their oxygen masks. He lay ontop of the horny hostess right in the middle of the aisle, as he rammed into her like a vauxhall nova full of chavs ram raiding the local tesco express he noticed they were blocking the aisle, a clear violation of federal aviation laws, not that he let that bother him.

          He looked down as his cock fired its sticky cream with so much vigour and passion it was like he had a dozen virginia tech killers in his yfronts, covering her clunge in so much cum it reminded him of the 12 iced buns he had stole from Harvey Price earlier that morning. He leant in close to her, whispered "Awooga" in her ear and patted her on the fanny

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            Greatest thread ever followed closely by the raoul moat one as Gaza turning up with a fishing rod, bucket of chicken and completely off his face was amazing.

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              Busi just favourited one of my tweets

              Awooga.
              Thanks very much for being ‘This Mornings’ Farmer’

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                Thought he'd died for a second then.

                Well in, doesn't get any better than that.

                Build a rapport while the iron's hot! :rock
                Hello mert.

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                  Happy Valentines.

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                    That James Joyce thread reminded me of this thread, and then I noticed it was bumped too.
                    *Except Michael, who died.

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                      Acca boostee....****s sake
                      "Its not about the long ball or the short ball, its about the right ball." Bob Paisley

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                        Only a matter of time before the Mighty Boosh is bumped
                        Hello mert.

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