Bummage and Quim

c/o Sir Henry Felchington
Bummage & Quim Home Decor Ltd.
Felchington Estate
Cummington Palace
Cummington
CU72 9XV

Sir Henry Felchington,

On the birth of our saviour in the year of 1856 just passed, my good wife presented me with a gift of incredible magnitude, a full scale crystal replica of the phallus belonging to esteemed adventurer and aristocrat, Lord Likely.

I awaited until the 28th day of December before visiting your Bummage & Quim emporium on the Felchington Estate and upon arrival, I explained to one of your servants that I required a strong, sturdy formula which would secure the art piece well above our fireplace.

One of your servants kindly suggested "Dr. Euston Cockrot's 'All-Tight' Formula", an experimental substance concocted from semen of urchin and phlegm of wench which to the best of my knowledge, has received acclaim from Lord John Rimming the Forth, an expert within the field of home decor.

We purchased the adhesive for a total of four shillings and thruppence before making our way home. On route, we paid visit to Direct Empire Ltd., an established firm dedicated solely to the insurance of household goods. There, we paid a total of two crowns and a shilling to insure Lord Likely's phallus against damage and theft.

December 31st came and to celebrate the coming of the New Year, I wished to erect the monolithic appendage above the fireplace as intended. Using "Dr. Euston Cockrot's 'All-Tight' Formula", me, the wife and our repulsive servant all worked together, hoisting the full scale manhood above our heads.

While the wife and servant strained under the weight of the gigantic member, I applied the formula to the base of the shaft and also, to the space available above the fireplace. We then positioned the sculpture as planned, letting the formula settle before releasing our arms from around the shaft itself.

Yet within thirty minutes of admiring the new addition to our living room, Lord Palmerston fell straight to the floor, shattering upon sheer impact. As you can well imagine, my wife sobbed inconsolably while I cursed this Dr. Cockrot and his infernal bloody concoction.

Furthermore, I have since contacted Direct Empire Ltd. who have refused to pay out for the damage incurred to this gift. In their own exact words:

"We have no proof that Dr. Euston Cockrot's 'All-Tight' Formula is capable of hoisting a thirty foot crystal appendage by itself, nor do we have proof that Bummage & Quim Home Decor Ltd. can assure their customers that Dr. Euston Cockrot's 'All-Tight' Formula can handle the magnitude of a thirty foot penis."

Therefore, we request that Bummage & Quim Home Decor Ltd. provide us with all of the following and that failure to do so will result in legal action being taken against your firm:

1. A full copy of your legally binding terms and conditions
2. A full refund of four shillings and thruppence for purchase of Dr. Euston Cockrot's 'All-Tight' Formula
3. Assurance that Dr. Euston Cockrot's 'All-Tight' Formula is adequate for the erection of a thirty foot crystal phallus

I, as always, will await your imminent response.

Your most humble and obedient servant,

Reverend J.C. Qelqoth

*****

Lord Likely is currently away, adventuring in foreign climes and seeing whether it is possible to father children in each of the seven continents.

To-day's guest post comes courtesy of Reverend Qelqoth, from the humourous, satirical website The Cult of Qelqoth.

His lordship is eternally grateful to the Reverend, but wishes to make it known that he himself has absolutely no problems whatsoever in keeping his Lord Palmerston up.

If you should like to pen a guest article for The Astonishing Adventures in his lordship's absence, then please do send an electronic mail to lord likely at gmail dot com, and let us know what you would like to toss off for us.

*****

Further Amusements With Which You May Entertain
Yourself Whilst His Lordship is Absent:

Lord Likely's Terrific Teaser Trailer - see his lordship in action!
Digital Sickbag - the virtual home to Lord Likely's scribe, Mr. A.D Fanton.
The Carrotty Kid Animated Adventure; as written and created by Mr. A.D Fanton
The Carrotty Kid- the homepage of the homegrown hero.
gaup: celebrity gossip with a twist.

Other places of interest:
Popmash The Clay Pigeon

FuelMyBlog Blog Catalog humor-blogs.com

Lord Likely Goes

April the Seventh, 1857.

"Botter," I said, as I strode into the living room of my luxurious mansion on a sunny, April morn. "Get yourself packed, my good man. We are going!"

"Going?" repeated Botter, adhering to a lifelong pattern of complete befuddlement and utter bewilderment. "Going where, milord?"

"I do not know, Botter. All I do know is that we are most definitely going."

Botter looked at me quizzically.

"Are you sure you're alright, milord? Are you sure you still have a full compliment of marbles?"

"Good heavens, Botter! Is this concept really too much for you to grasp? I have the wanderlust, you ridiculous arse-pipe, and as such I wish to wander. Where to? I do not know. All I do know is that I wish to just...go. There is so much world out there left to explore; unimaginable adventures to be had; exotic, foreign ladies to be pumped full of my lordly sperm...we should grab the world by the buttocks, Botter, and thrust ourselves deeply within it. And as my uncle, the renowned watch-maker 'Big' Ben Likely once said: 'There is no time like the present!' Or was it 'there is no present like the time?' It might have been a sales pitch. I forget now. At any rate, we are going! So prepare to pack, Botter! Let us get to it, pronto!"

"Y-yes, milord," Botter stammered. "Right away!"

"Good chap. We shall have to travel lightly, Botter. We do not want to weigh ourselves down with any unnecessary baggage!"

"Very good, milord," Botter mumbled.

*****

I stood in the grounds of the Likely Estate, surveying the distant horizon, and the untold possibilities beyond it. The thought of taking this exciting, much-needed holiday was appealing to me more and more, and I simply could not wait to start.

"Come on, Botter!" I yelled to my infuriatingly slow man-servant. "We haven't got all day."

"C-coming!" wheezed Botter, as he staggered to my side, laden with my luggage. "A-are you sure you really need all these things, milord? It...it does not strike me as travelling very lightly, if I may say so."



Botter and I prepare to embark upon our next Astonishing Adventure.

"Nonsense, Botter! Why, look! I have only packed one crate of whisky, for heaven's sake! And I managed to whittle down my prized collection of erotic lithographs to a mere suitcase full, which was no easy task, I can tell you. There was much concentrated deliberation over the final selection."

"B-but a toilet, milord? I...I'm sure they will have toilets abroad..."

"Filthy, foreign toilets, Botter! My word, if I wanted something dirty and strange entering my anus, then I would at least like to be bought several drinks first. Just be thankful I did not chose to bring my solid-gold lavatory with me."

"V-very good, milord," puffed Botter.

"Right then! So we are set! I think we shall go....thataway!" I exclaimed, pointing due West. "I believe there is a public house in that direction where we might stop for a quick drink. Although, there is a particularly attractive bar-maid in the pub in the other direction..."

"Whu-whatever you like, milord," Botter gasped as he struggled with my various cases. "C-can we just get moving? Muh-my back is killing me!"

"That's the spirit, Botter!" I smiled, punching my man-servant playfully upon his shoulder. "Onwards and upwards, eh? Well then, as the French say: 'mon pantalon a été mangé par les chiens sauvages'! No, wait. That means 'my trousers have been eaten by wild dogs'. That's not right at all....what was it, now?..."

"A-allez?" said Botter, wearily.

"A lay? I dare say there shall be a lot of laying, Botter, but I do not see how that helps me remember my French...ah, well. Never mind. Never did care much for the French, anyway. They have sex with horses, don't you know?"

"Ruh-really." said Botter.

"Mmm. Quite so. Alright, then," I beamed, clapping my hands together. "Let's go! Come on, Botter! Allez! Allez!"

And with that, Botter and I set off on our exciting expedition. I dare say there shall be scant time to continue keeping a diary while I am on holiday, so I fear I shall have to bid your a fond farewell for now.

Suffice to say, I shall regale you with the tales of my travels whence I return, provided I still have the power of sight, and have not been sexed to death by cock-hungry Amazonians.

Until then, toodle-pip, dear readers. Toodle-pip!

- Lord Likely.


Editor's note: Lord Likely shall be away on his astonishing adventure holiday for the next two to three weeks, but fear not, dear readers! While Lord Likely is away, a selection of scintillating scribes and wondrous writers shall be penning some astonishing articles for his lordship's web-log, beginning this week with the Reverend Qelqoth. Also lined up are Mr. Don Lewis, Mr. Relax Max and the delectable Miss. Claire, to name a few.

If you should also like to write a guest post in his lordship's absence, then do feel free to contact us through the magic of electronical mail, via this very address: lord likely at gmail dot com. All ideas considered, nudes a speciality!

Further Amusements With Which You May Entertain
Yourself Whilst His Lordship is Absent:

Lord Likely's Terrific Teaser Trailer - see his lordship in action!
Digital Sickbag - the virtual home to Lord Likely's scribe, Mr. A.D Fanton.
The Carrotty Kid Animated Adventure; as written and created by Mr. A.D Fanton
The Carrotty Kid- the homepage of the homegrown hero.
gaup: celebrity gossip with a twist.

Other places of interest:
Popmash The Clay Pigeon

FuelMyBlog Blog Catalog humor-blogs.com

Lord Likely Beats off the Beast

April, 1857.

So, there I was; standing in a moonlit wood with a monster's cock in my hands, inadvertently working him up into a state of complete arousal.

It is funny how life turns out, sometimes.

Having started to get the beast worked up, I reasoned that it was only polite to finish the job at (or, more precisely, in) hand, and so I set about the rather unpleasant task of bringing about the creature's climax.

As I bashed away at the beast's bulging beast, Botter suddenly returned, having abandoned me some time earlier.

"Botter, you wretched little cock-smear! Where the devil have you been?" I asked, as I continued my exertions.

"Um, sorry milord. I went back to the carriage, to er, retrieve your pistol," Botter replied, waving my pistol in the air triumphantly.

"So you were not just fleeing for your miserable life, then?"

"No, milord! Of course not, milord!"

"For some reason, I find myself not believing you, you cowardly little cockroach."

"Um...milord...are you...are you administering hand-relief to the beast?" Botter observed.

"Aye, he is that!" Grimes chipped in. "An' he's doing a grand job!"

"I am rather, aren't I?" I concurred, taking some pride in my penis-pounding prowess. "In fact, I would say that the beast is about to blow...I'd stand clear, if I were you..."

Grimes dutifully ducked back down behind some shrubbery, while Botter stood bemused in the open.

"Botter! Stand clear, man!" I repeated, but before Botter could react, the beast let out a bellowing roar and issued forth a jet of bestial baby-butter, which gushed forth from his monstrous manhood like water from a hose. Suffice to say, my unfortunate man-servant found himself directly in the path of the excessive expulsions, and was knocked back by the tremendous force of the creature's cock-cream, winding up firmly pasted to a nearby tree, dripping with the beast's considerable discharge.

"Well, that certainly saves me giving you a damned pasting," I quipped, as Botter spat out mouthfuls of monster mucus.

"Sir!" cried Grimes, rising up from behind his hiding-place. "The beast! Some thing's happening to the beast!"

I looked around and, sure enough, there was something happening to the beast.

He seemed to be shrinking.

We watched on as the creature got smaller, and as the thick fur covering his body receded, revealing human skin underneath. Slowly but surely, the beast transformed from the ferocious monster we had known, and turned into...

Lord Rydeham-Harde.

"What manner of trickery is this?" I yelled as a very naked Lord Rydeham-Harde sat where the beast had once been. "What in the name of Lord Wellington's almighty wanger is going on here?"

"Ah, yes," Rydeham-Harde said meekly. "I think you'll probably want an explanation."

*****

It transpired that Lord Rydeham-Harde, in failing to fulfill his husbandly duties in the bedroom, had promised Lady Rydeham-Harde that he would seek medical assistance in getting his gander up, and thus give her the good seeing-to she so desperately desired.

Lord Rydeham-Harde's search for aid in this department led him to a small apothecary's shop on the edge of town, where he was sold a bottle of Dr. Ignoble Buttocks' Incredible Intercourse Elixir, a potion which promised to turn the user into 'a wild beast' between the sheets.

"I did not realise it meant it quite so literally," whined Rydeham-Harde as he regaled the group (now joined by Inspector Spunkleford and Lady Rydeham-Harde) with his sordid tale. "When I started using it, I found myself transforming into this terrible creature whenever I became aroused. At first my wife was delighted, because it also made my...you-know-what...a lot bigger. But she did not take too kindly to being clawed at and bitten, so she kicked me out. I...I don't remember much beyond that..."

"I imagine that you chanced upon the young maid in the garden, and most probably buggered the poor girl to death with your monster todger," I surmised.

"Oh...oh God," wailed the distressed dignitary, as he was comforted by his wife. "What have I done?"

"More to the point," I added. "What have I done?"

"Pardon me?" said Lord Rydeham-Harde.

"I tossed you off, you little blighter! All that time I thought I was placating a ferocious monster, and it turns out I was actually spanking your lordship, as t'were. I shall not be able to crack one off for months now," I said, forlornly.

"Well, I am afraid I shall have to take you in for questioning, milord," said Spunkleford.

"What? It is not illegal to pleasure another man in the grounds of his own home, is it?" I snapped.

"Well, it is actually, milord," Spunkleford replied. "But it wasn't actually you I was talking to, milord. It was milord I was addressing," he said, pointing to Rydeham-Harde.

"Of course, Inspector," Rydeham-Harde nodded, stepping away from his wife. "I...I quite understand..."

"First degree buggery, eh?" I said, as Rydeham-Harde was cuffed by another policeman. "I dare say you shall be witnessing a great deal more buggery where you are going. In fact, I daresay you'll be ridden very hard indeed, Rydeham-Harde."

Lord Rydeham-Harde swallowed noisily, and was led away.

"Good riddance to bad rubbish, eh what? Talking of which, we shall try and make sure this terrible elixir is removed from sale, and arrest those responsible for peddling it," Spunkleford said to me. "We don't want the whole country awash with sex-crazed monsters. One is quite enough, eh Likely?"

I chose to ignore the Inspector's cheap jibe at my sexual antics, and merely watched as Lord Rydeham-Harde was bundled into a police carriage, which then clattered off into the night.

"My poor, dear Hubert," sniffed Lady Rydeham-Harde, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. "And to think, this was all because I wanted a damned good rogering."

I raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "Really, m'dear?" I said. "I might well be able to help you out on that score..."

With that, I put a comforting arm around her ladyship, and led her back towards her house.

"Botter," I called over my shoulder to my spaff-sodden servant. "Go and wait in the carriage, will you? I'll be back in forty-five minutes." Then, suddenly, Lady Rydeham-Harde bent over to retrieve a door-key from underneath the doormat, giving me a glorious view of her gorgeous, fulsome buttocks.

"Actually, Botter, you had better make that a week and a half," I grinned, and entered the house, closing the door firmly behind me.

The End.

- Lord Likely.

Next Time in the Astonishing Adventures of Lord Likely: A Startling Announcement of Startling Importance!

*****

Thank you, all! His lordship would like to extend his warmest thank yous to everyone who took part in the inaugural Inter-Active Adventure. Your loyalty, sterling support, excellent suggestions and general all-round wondrousness have helped to make The Beast With Two Backs a roaring success! Many, many thanks indeed!

Now, we only have one question left to ask of you: would you like to do it again?


Do please let us know!

Congratulations! The final winner to be selected for suggesting the correct course of action in his lordship's Incredible Interactive Adventure, and thus earns a hyper-link from Lord Likely's wondrous web-log is:

Mr. Gorilla Bananas!

Congratulations, sir!

The Further Scrawlings of Mr. A.D Fanton:
Digital Sickbag | New! gaup
The Carrotty Kid

Other places of interest:
The Clay Pigeon

FuelMyBlog | Blog Catalog | humor-blogs.com

Clawed Likely

April, 1857.

"So, you must be Mr. The Beast," I said calmly, as the slavering beast advanced upon me. "I don't suppose you would care for a cup of tea, or something?"

"Grrrrrarrrgggh!" said the beast.

"Grrrrarrrgggh?" I repeated. "Good heavens, your diction is really quite awful. Now listen here, old chap, you've been rather an awful cad, and I'm afraid that we are going to have to -"

Before I could finish reprimanding the terrible beast, the brute swung at me with his powerful claws, resulting in him tearing my lovely blue suit.

"Well that does it, I'm afraid," I said. "Murder is bad enough, but I simply cannot abide such terrible manners!" And with that, I launched myself at the beast.

We tussled for a while in among the bushes; the beast swiping at me with his huge paws, while I took to punching the foul creature about the face and snout. After what seemed like an eternity of such grappling, I realised that I was getting precisely nowhere.

As I contemplated my next move, the beast pinned me against the ground, it's great jaws looming over my face, row upon row of sharp, dagger-like teeth bared at me. Fearing that I might become a rather delicious snack for the monster, I took my knee to the beast's groin - a cheap shot maybe, but it was highly effective all the same. The creature roared angrily and loosened its grip upon me, then tended to its injured balls.

Once again, I noticed the incredibly humongous size of the creature's genitals. Of course, they paled in comparison to my own, but they were of a not inconsiderable size nonetheless.

It was while I was contemplating the beast's cock and balls that I suddenly hit upon a rather marvellous ruse to subdue the creature - I would perform the Venetian Cock Twist upon the furry fiend's fleshy love-pole. I knew from first-hand experience just how effective the maneuver could be, so I reasoned it would be even more effective on such a titanic todger as the one before me.

With a course of action thus decided, I threw myself back onto the beast, much to its surprise. We wrestled for a bit, until I finally managed to grab a hold of the creature's cock-shaft, at which point I began to twist upon it with all my might. Much to my chagrin, however, the beast failed to react in the manner which I had expected. In fact, he barely seemed to notice my efforts at all.

"Grimes!" I yelled out to the gormless gardener, who was doing his best to cower behind a shrub that was entirely to small to adequately hide him. "Grimes, get yourself over here, pronto! I fear I shall need an extra pair of hands for this terrible task!"

"I..I think yer doin' just fine, milord," Grimes replied. "It looks like the wee beastie is really enjoyin' that. I mean, really enjoyin' that."

"What?" I snapped, and then I noticed that the monster's member was becoming increasingly stiff in my hands. Rather than causing the beast pain, it seemed I was in fact working the demon up into a state of arousal. I was, in short, wanking the creature off.

"Keep goin', milord!" cried Grimes. "Yer doin' a grand job!"

"I can't sit here all night tossing this bastard off!" I cried.

"Ya might not have a choice, milord. He'll probably be really angry if you stop at this point."

So there I was, trapped in the woods, and stuck between a cock and a hard place.

Whatever was I going to do?

- Lord Likely.

Now YOU control the adventure!

What Should Likely Do Next?

1. Continue the deed until it reaches its inevitable conclusion.
   
2. Cease before people start to talk.
3. Give the beast a hearty punch to the balls instead.
   

Once you have decided which course of action his lordship should embark upon, either leave us a comment stating which choice you favour, OR if you are too lazy and/or too incredibly stupid to use words and sentences, then you may utilise the splendid Vote-O-Matic below:

You have until 00:30 hours AM(GMT) on Wednesday the Thirtieth of April to cast your vote.

UPDATE! The deadline has now been changed to 12:30 PM (GMT) on Thursday the First of May! So now there is positively NO excuse to not vote in this THRILLING poll!

As an added incentive, one randomly-selected winning voter will be rewarded with a gratuitous link to their web-page in the next thrilling installment. But please note - we shall only be able to award said prize if you let us know which action you chose!

The last randomly-selected winner, who has thus earnt a free hyper-link placement upon his lordship's journals, is...

Sogeshirts Guy!

Congratulations to you!

Now choose wisely, dear readers...his lordship is in YOUR HANDS now.

*****

Notes, Notices and Notifications

The Further Scrawlings of Mr. A.D Fanton:
Digital Sickbag | New! gaup
The Carrotty Kid
The Best Bit of the Internet (R.I.P)

Other places of interest:
The Clay Pigeon

FuelMyBlog | Blog Catalog | humor-blogs.com

Into the Dark and Scary Woods

April, 1857.

After some considerable deliberation upon my part, I decided that rather than wait to receive another Venetian Cock Twist from the delectable Lady Rydeham-Harde, my time would be more productively spent venturing into the dark and scary woods, where the so-called beast had last been sighted.

"Are you sure, milord?" Botter asked nervously. "The woods are both dark and scary, after all."

"Botter, sometimes I think you have a longer yellow streak than an elephant pissing down a cliff." I said. "We are going to explore the dark and scary woods and find us a beast, my good man, and that is my complete and utter final word on the subject. Except these six words: you really are a terrible twat."

"Very good, milord," Botter replied, despondently.

"Now, Mr. Grimes," I continued, turning to face the gardener who had witnessed the beast's frenzied attack. "I think it would be most prurient for you to accompany us on this venture; after all, you did not only see the beast, but I'd say you know these woods like the back of your hand."

"Hand? Hand? What hand? I don't know nothin' about no hand, sir!" replied Grimes, fear gripping every fibre of his soul.

"Ruddy Hell," I sighed. "Am I surrounded by cowards? Am I the only brave, courageous and damnably handsome one among us?"

At that point, a blood-curdling roar filled the night sky.

"Fuck me, what the shit was that?" I gasped.

"'Twas the beast!" wailed Grimes, his eyes wild with panic. "The beast is near, and he sounds mighty hungry! Surely he will feast upon our flesh, and devour our souls!"

"No-one is devouring my arse-hole," I replied, grabbing the gas-light from Grimes' hands. "Now come along, you two. Let us go and introduce ourselves to this beastly fellow."

*****

"I don't like this," moaned Grimes, as we ploughed deeper and deeper into the dark and scary woods. "The air is thick with evil."

"That's probably just Botter," I said, as we pushed on through some densely-packed thickets. "I think he may have soiled himself earlier."

"Arrrrrgh!" screamed Botter, suddenly. "It's got me! The beast has got me!"

I let out a heavy sigh and turned around, to see my hapless man-servant tussling with nothing more menacing than some over-hanging branches. I shook my head sadly, and calmly strolled over and disentangled Botter from the grasps of the nefarious tree.

"Please, Botter, do try and retain some sense of decorum. We are British, after all." I said as I freed the witless oaf.

"Sorry, milord." Botter apologised. "I think this is just getting to me, y'know? Walking through this dark and scary wood, lookin' for a murderous beast...it's put the fear in me, to be honest."

"Mmm, so it would seem," I replied.

"It'd help if we had at least some idea of what we're lookin' for," Botter grumbled. "I mean, what's this beast look like?"

"Botter, it is a beast." I explained, patiently. "I think we can safely presume it will look rather beast-like. Unless this part of the country is particularly overrun with beasts, I would imagine we shall have no trouble identifying the creature when we stumble upon it."

"Did it perchance have brown fur, large claws, creepy, glowing red eyes and huge, pointy teeth?" Botter suggested.

"Aye!" cried Grimes. "That's the beastie! How did ya know that?"

"Because I think that's it, standing behind you," Botter answered, pointing a shaky finger.

Grimes and I swung around, and sure enough the beast was indeed standing there, it's eyes wild and red, drool dribbling forth from it's fanged teeth.

"Well, well, well," I said. "Now there is something you don't see every day. Good day to you, sir!"


The beast let out an almighty roar, and slowly advanced towards us. This proved too much for Botter to cope with, and he let out a feeble scream and then dashed off into the woods. I made a mental note to have him severely thrashed for abandoning me in the midst of action.

"It...it...it's the beast!" Grimes stuttered, as he stood frozen to the spot.

"Yes, yes. I think we have established that by now, Grimes," I replied, as I kept a wary eye on the advancing beast. "I must say, it is quite an impressive creature, don't you think? Why, look at the size of his todger. That thing is a monstrosity in itself, I must say."

"The...the beast!" Grimes repeated. Clearly the man had lost his mind, and would be of no further use to me at this point.

Once again, it would have to be up to me to save everybody, and win the day. But what to do?

- Lord Likely.

Now YOU control the adventure!

How Should Likely Tackle the Beast?

1. Challenge the beast to a duel
2. Engage the beast in a bout of fisticuffs
3. Perform the Venetian Cock Twist upon the creature
4. Kick him squarely in the balls
5. Run away, and never look back?
   

Once you have decided which course of action his lordship should embark upon, either leave us a comment stating which choice you favour, OR if you are too lazy and/or too incredibly stupid to use words and sentences, then you may utilise the splendid Vote-O-Matic below:

You have until 10:30 hours AM(GMT) on Monday the Twenty-Eighth of April to cast your vote.

As an added incentive, one randomly-selected winning voter will be rewarded with a gratuitous link to their web-page in the next thrilling installment. But please note - we shall only be able to award said prize if you let us know which action you chose!

The last randomly-selected winner, who has thus earnt a free hyper-link placement upon his lordship's journals, is...