Category Archives: Funny
In Sexy beach fast food you’ll enjoy 64 restaurant levels, challenge stages across 8 mission. Prepare 30 different recipes, and upgrade your restaurants. While cooking all those tasty recipes, you get to serve many sexy customers. Have fun playing Sexy beach fast food, the time management cooking game for food lovers! The all of levels are free but it is locked, with collecting a gem during play each level or an in-game purchase available to unlock the all of level in all missions. Enjoy Sexy beach fast food , an amazing time management cooking game
DASH THROUGH 8 MISSIONS, cook in beautiful beach and sexy customers, complete 64 levels, and extra challenging time attack mode.
BECOME A CHEF, master your skills in this cooking game, and cook three star for your sexy customers.
RUN YOUR SUN SHINE DAY and serve food in a variety of fast food recipes in many beautiful beach.
COLLECT GEMS & buy decorations.
PLAY A TIME ATTACK MODE, to compete for the best score in the World Ranging Board!
There you have it. Make sexy food for sexy people. On a beach. Or something. I just wonder who the target audience is. Time management cooking games aren’t exactly the domain of the nerdy saddo that gets their kicks out of bug-eyed, big breasted Japanese schoolgirls in skimpy bikinis. And I can’t see your average hairdresser being into the knocker intrusion in their time management cooking game on their sun shine day. Who knows, who cares, but here’s some more of what you pervs are really interested in…
There’s a lot you can do with an old wine cork. For example, make a fancy serving tray with the letter W in it…
My favourite use, though, is to create a pair of stylish but comfortable slacks that invoke popular occult symbolism. When the Egyptian arch-dude Horus opened his eyes, the world was enlightened. With this trouser, you can do the same thing without all that becoming a deity hassle. Just do it direct from your jacksy!
Through much of 1994, a group of Sunday night regulars at The Bear in Bedford wrote letters. Sounds quite cultured for a pub, right?
Where the letter writing began is a bit of a mystery; if any of the contributors happen to read this and remember, let me know and I’ll update it! Same if anyone cares to admit to writing any of these… I can’t remember what belongs to who, possibly except for one of them.
Enough bullshit. This bunch of pervs were writing down the dirtiest thoughts they could muster every week and sending them en masse to The Sunday Sport’s problem page. Everyone paid a Pound into a kitty (kept safely on a shelf behind the bar in some sort of jar in the shape of a fox if I remember right) and the idea was that whoever got published first took the cash.
There were probably 7-8 regular contributors and a few who tried their luck now and again, and despite the inevitable fun that was had when the week’s letters were shared and read on a Sunday night in the pub, there was never a sniff of publication. Meanwhile, the pot kept filling up with cash and the letter writers gained notoriety; in fact, at one point I remember one contributor being barred for a particularly filthy effort!
Over time though, hope of publication faded, ideas were starting to run dry, and plans were made to wrestle the money jar back from landlord Paul Shilliday’s care and party like it was 1999 – it was still five years away and we didn’t know any better at the time!
Then it happened. All at once. As usual, the group skimmed the paper for the problem page, past the movie stars who fucked chickens, the trees that arrested dwarves and reports of Hitler’s latest Moon-based activities… Past the pre-Internet mucky phone lines… And past the knockers, and knickers and more knockers. It took a few seconds to sink in, but there they were. All of last week’s letters (two of which were penned at 7am on Sunday morning in a McDonalds after a particularly savage night in London goth club, Slimelight), all on one special page.
And how our group of authors celebrated on that day in early 1995! Actually, I can tell you how – with their own bloody money, because no one ever did see the contents of that jar! (Feel free to comment below if you like, Paul)!
You can see the page in all its glory below, plus zoomed in extracts so you can enjoy each letter and, of course, the special tribute to the lusty lads from The Bear.
And if you’re interested, you can see a collection of the unpublished letters from one contributor who wishes to remain anonymous here: http://wp.me/p1121n-u