Another story about Junax is, in his younger days, he was invited to a party. He'd run out of money for drink so he decided to have some mushies and go tripping instead, reasoning that to be a bit wasted was better than none at all.Bad move.
He was tripping his arse off by the time he got up there. Envisionings of entire kingdoms swum past him in the haze. He was two hours late and when he got there, there was some girls hanging about outside on a wall. One of the girls looked like the brunette hooker out of Crocodile Dundee. This made him really paranoid. She knew he was a scum, she could read his mind.
But then she was dressed like Nicola Roberts out of Girls Aloud so she morphed into her but with brown hair. But they still hated him he knew it. He went up to the door. It was locked. Fuck.
There was nobody around...to knock would make him look like a tool but to hang around then the girls would know he was a freak.
Then a tall guy came by, looked like Justin Bieber after having been put on a rack for the Gunpowder Plot, which he would be, because he was that sort of cunt.
The Bieber Bigfoot as he had now morphed into in Junax's mind, took out a mobile phone and spoke to the girls.
He just said
'Hi! I'm Justin Bieber Bigfoot. I have a plastic cock I put cause I have no genitals but I like to stuff my fleas up cocks.'
His not saying this confused Junax greatly.
Bieber Bigfoot asked the girls if they were going to the party.
'Yeah, I live up there.' one of the non-hooker ones said.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. That made it worse, how the fuck would he get in now?
Bieber Bigfoot was offering Junax the chance to massage his fur while he taught his fleas how to teach the world to sing and other Coca-Cola jingles. The worst was this was not a hallucination. This was actually happening.
Just then a smoker popped out to get some fresh air and Junax took the opportunity to go in. He knew the girls were chanting 'Stranger, danger!' through mental telepathy.
When he got up to the party he was acclaimed;
'What?' Said Junax
He fell down at was thought to be a table and drank a yellow liquid put in front of him.
'Trevor get that down ye!'
It tasted like fairy liquid. He could feel fleas marching up towards him, singing Pepsi jingles.
When he awoke the next morning there was no girl beside him, so he'd failed to get laid. But good grief was his arse sore.