22 April 2006


At school there was a girl in my class who dropped out at the age of 13 when she got pregnant.

At 17 I went out with a girl of 16 who casually mentioned in passing on our first date that she’d had a miscarriage two-years earlier.

I once overheard a girl in my class list the boys she had slept with. There were about twenty guys on the list. She was 15.

I once worked with a woman who boasted – boasted – that when she was 15 she was regularly fucking a guy in his thirties.

One of my friends has a 16-year-old half-sister who has a 2-year-old son. She hasn’t a clue who the father is. She lives in large council house and gets plenty of benefits, spending the weekends unloading her illegitimate brat on friends or relatives whilst she goes out partying in the flashy neon-slathered clubs in Manchester city centre. Her half-brother, my mate, works 60-hours a week as a night-watchman and, after covering the bills and the rent of his one-bedroomed flat, only has enough cash for the occasional trip to the local pub.

One of my colleagues recently complained that, on arriving home early one day, he had caught his 14-year-old sister in bed with ‘some guy’. His main complaint was that he was 20 and still a virgin, and he was pissed off that his little sister had ‘beat him to it’ in the cherry-losing stakes.

Another one of my mates went to school with a girl who had an abortion at the age of 12.

A news story a few years ago about teenage sex in the UK highlighted the case of a 16-year-old girl who had been pregnant five-times since she was 12; she’d whelped one illegimate brat, had another aborted and had three miscarriages.

When I was 18 and in the Sixth Form, I was sitting in the school library and overheard a conversation between three girls sitting in the next aisle. They were discussing anal-sex. Two of the girls thought it was great and had both indulged in it with their boyfriends. The other girl was not convinced (“I don’t want some guy poking his dick in my shit”) and said she only had ‘normal sex’. The other girls implored her to let her boyfriend go by the backdoor. I assumed they were Sixth Formers like me, but as I left the library I glanced down the other aisle and saw that trio of trollops were only about 13 or 14.


These are the girls who, by their late-twenties, will demand a man marry their filthy skanky hides, who will insist on a guy who will ‘commit’ to them, who will spend fifteen-years wallowing in a metaphorical vat of grunting bad-boys, abortions-on-demand and bubbling STDs before rising to the surface, flapping about and demanding that a nice-guy sucker fish them out and look after them happily ever after.

Yeah, right. Get the fuck away from us, skankazoids. Shoo!

If being a diseased skank was an Olympic sport, I dare say Britain would win Gold. From what I’ve gathered from foreign friends, the US would take Silver and Australia and Canada would fight it out for Bronze.

posted by Duncan Idaho @ 3:15 PM

At 3:46 PM, MarkyMark said…


I laughed out loud when I read your Olympic medal analogy-good one! However, given the state of women here, I think we could fight ‘Merry Ole England’ for the Gold…



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