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10 definitions by 535

An act wherein a distinguished gentleman inserts a solitary ball into any anus available to him so that upon removable, the ball looks like it is covered in toffee. This is improved vastly by the owner of the anus reciprocal should he or she eat only toffee for a week.
Supped he verily upon that most marvellous of treats, the Somerset Toffee Apple, whilst looking over his blossoming orchard that was being gently fingered by the divine rays of a retiring Helios. - Dante
by 535 September 25, 2011
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The specific Birmingham Saddleshank wherein the target of a window is reduced to the target of an awaiting anus in a window.
Steve: Hold on, Dave, I’ve just gotta wind the window down, lean my arse out of it and take a dump, I don’t think we’ll be off the Birmingham ringroad before I have to open the brown blast-doors.

Dave: Go for it.

Steve: Oh yeah, that’s the stuff.

Dave: Oh... my... cuntfucking... God...


Screech of a Mighty Hawk: SOUTHAMPTON SIDESADDLE
by 535 October 9, 2012
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Man 1: My dong sneezed in her face last night.

Man 2: Nice
by 535 February 21, 2011
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Rolling down a hill of more than 45 degree incline whilst fucking. If no ejaculation has occurred prior to reaching the bottom, it is NOT a Powysian Break-dance. It is a FAILURE.
‘Many thousands of years ago, it was rumoured that the Powysian Break-dance was performed as a Satanic blood-letting ritual performed by limbless midgets’ - Spinal Tap.
by 535 October 9, 2012
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The process by which, over the course of several years, a distinguished gentleman collects a substantial amount of knobcheese and forms it into a disc weighing several pounds. This must then be entered as the rolling cheese in the Gloucestershire cheese rolling competition, which is particularly difficult considering that it has been made by the same woman since 1988. To overcome this, one may either stealthily switch the cow-cheese with the man-cheese at any point in the process or convince the woman by sob story that the cheese was made by your dying mother who only ever wanted to see it rolled downhill or something, preferably using a starved puppy as a visual aid. Unbeknownst to anyone involved, however, one will have carved a hole in the cheese just wider than the diameter of your dick, hidden under the paper ribbons that wrap it. This is because you will, at the point it is thrown down hill, burst out from the crowds at the bottom and attempt to catch it on your dick, which should burst through the ribbons like a triumphant Olympic athlete, before you are then crushed by the waves of tumbling shire-folk.
‘A great race this year in which everyone died and finally someone got his dick out’ – The Gloucester Citizen

‘The Gloucestershire Ringtoss has finally been completed. The process has begun. Humankind’s dusk approacheth.’ – Mysterious man in cloak from The Royal Society of Go Away
by 535 January 28, 2012
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The insanely unrealistic twisting two homosexual men would have to do to in order that they would each be simultaneously penetrating the other. In the ass.

No mouthsies!
Darth Vader looked at the drop of sweat rolling down Möbius’s back, over the taint and on to the top of his face, which finally fell sensuously off his nose and into his mouth. From the single twist of Möbius’s sinewy back and the way he was giving himself head, Darth knew he was in for a treat of hyperspatial Brighton Yoga.’ – Probably some fanfiction somewhere.
by 535 January 28, 2012
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The endeavour to lean out of one’s car window whilst driving on a road with at least two lanes and with willy unsheathed to insert said willy into the open window of other cars travelling in the same direction (this latter part is important lest one expects to receive a brutal dicklashing).
‘Deftly, Turpin lowered himself to Black Bess’s side, her muscles writhing powerfully under his soles as she galloped as a shadow in the fog, drawing ever closer to the magistrate’s coach. With one hand still clinging to his steed, he lowered his britches in preparation for the impending Birmingham Saddleshank.
The magistrate could hear the crescendo of galloping behind him rising with his nervous heartbeat, until thrust through his window was the most foul of phalluses accompanied by the scream of his coachman and the growl of Hell’s own brimstone: “Magistrate, your money or your wig all pissed on.”’ – Black Bess; or, The Knight of the Road by William Harrison Ainsworth
by 535 October 9, 2012
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