It was another typical night in the Crestmead housing commission shack, and member Mongo was pretty antsy. He had almost made $200 Aussie dollars thanks to his centrelink payment and delivering food in his 1998 AU Falcon until his rear brakes gave out and forced him back home. A cashed up bogan he was not, although he aspired to be one more than anything. He decided to use the loads of disposable income to get on the cock and cunt site, and buy some memberships for his fakes, well after he got on Facebook marketplace to look for a new second hand v8 commodore. Knowing he would never be able to lay enough bricks to afford one, he jumped back on the cock site to get his fakes going. Right now, he had 5 fakes ready to go to attack at any moment or at least that’s what he had told Bella. Sure the roof on the shack leaked and he hadn’t bothered to buy groceries for the methed out slag wife and his kids in weeks, all that mattered was his that his pre-paid debit card was loaded with funds for his attacks on site. Currently he was going after a bigger bitch and posting her pics without permission in his fat ugly vile cunt thread on the cock site forum. There was nothing more he hated than a fat, ugly, vile cunt, and that was himself. Mongo was nothing to look at and this made him super depressed. He had the physique of Hank Hill and glasses thick enough to see alien life on Mars, a small herpes encrusted cock, and face that could be used to keep teenage girls from getting pregnant as a form of birth control. He had morning breath at 8PM, and he smelled like a shit, cigar and egg sandwich.

Looking at the profile of Mamabear actually got Mongo feeling a bit horny, as the wife hadn’t wanted him to touch her in months. Her minge got drier than a farm field in Somalia anytime the thought of his bloated, flabby, pasty body crossed her mind. He liked to tell her that his receding hair line was a solar panel to fuel his sex tank. The only tank he possessed was the belly full of Fosters light ice. Fosters was actually pretty fancy considering he normally would try for VB when he had a few bucks. Speaking of Foster light ice, he yelled at the Wife to bring him another cold one, or risk another punch to her face, which looking like a medical book published in the outback of STD’s, she couldn’t afford any more missing teeth. Not even a road train has been ridden that hard. One longtime member described her as a washed up old syphilis tramp. When Skittles and EvilFairy heard this on a three way call they started howling with laughter. Mongo sent Mamabear an instant message asking her to sex-chat which she instantly declined. Even though she looked like a retarded Ewok, with a bologna looking cunt(not the opinion of the blog author), even she wasn’t desperate enough to get off with Saggy Granny’s walking bucket of leave ins. She was retarded, but not as retarded as Mongo. Mamabear hadn’t even bothered to look at his page. She could tell he was retarded by the way he spelled. He was worse than Deno, and Deno wrote like he shat up a bowl of Alphabet soup and decided to write his name in it. And that’s pretty fucking retarded.


Mongo feeling slighted screenshotted Mamabears pics, and decided to whinge one off about her in his forum thread. That would show her! Next, he tried once again to get his mama the Saggy Granny CAT to notice him. His attempts were all in vein. Saggy Granny #610414 had long ago forgotten him like the shit stained underwear she left at a porta potty in the Indie 500 back in 1966 after her scummy uncle and his friends had ran a train through her. This was the same woman that had tried to kill him with a coat hanger when she was pregnant after all. As an infant he had had been the inspiration for the character Belial in the movie basket case after Saggy had left him in a bucket in a Arby’s bathroom.


Mongo roared at the Wife to bring him more beer. He was going to get plonked if it was the last thing he would do! She walked gingerly over to his cunt site chair, and handed him another fosters. The look on her face reminded him of a bucket of smashed crabs, and that with the threat of physical violence, the Winnie blue dangling from her chapped canker sore lips, got him hard. He grabbed her roughly and forced her to give him a blowie. Having just hot railed some meth with a glass barbeque, the wife’s face was feeling pretty numb. The blowie she gave him was like putting his dick in a bag of soggy wonder bread. It was a good thing her face was numb, because he gave her a 3-piece feed. After he was done, he took a page from his buddy Tecsan aka Monturds and pissed on her like he was peeing out of a window. Mongo the drongo liked to pretend he was all for women but then he would get shit faced and go on a drunken video tirades calling his friends like Bella cunts and whores and complain about boys taking advantage of his daughters. Then forget everything he said later and contradict himself over and over.


Knowing he wasn’t going to get laid, he buttoned up the flannete over his torn second-hand chesty bonds, and pulled up his footy shorts. He hunted down a few lotto tickets and decided to take his kids old dirt bike for a few burnouts in the Dan Murphys parking lot. He would cash out the lottos for a few bucks to help pay his honing fines.

On the way to the Dan Murphy’s, Mongo came across a bushrat that had been hit by turbocharged falcon. Feeling sorry for the little fella, and thinking it kind of resembled him a bit with its fucked up face and smelly body, he decided to take it home to nurse it back to life. Mongo had no pockets on his footy shorts and his hands were full, so he put the little fella in the inside of his shorts, and kept on riding to Dan Murphys.


On the way over, the little bushrat came back to, and burrowed its way up Mongos asshole. Not needing a paper towel tube like Richard Gere, it made it way up inside. Mongo feeling the familiar tingle, started to weep. “Daddy?”, he cried out in confusion. It had been a while since Daddy had died, and Mongo missed him deeply. No one had ever made his butthole tingle like Daddy did. Daddy had been the greatest man he had ever known. Back in 1966 when Mongo had been left in the Arby’s bathroom the employees there had been horrified by the hideously deformed and retarded infant. The manager picked up the oversized wad of chewed up bubblegum, and had flushed it down the toilet. Sewer systems back in the 60’s had all interconnected to one huge sewage dump that led to the QLD Gold Coast .


Daddy had been walking through the sewage looking for a meal, and had come across what he had initially thought was a giant lump of pork jelly. He had been about to take a huge bite, when the lump had started crying like a clubbed seal. Daddy had turned the deformed Mongo around and his little screwed up face had warmed his heart. He decided to take it home to his shack, and raise it. He gave him to moniker Mongo the drongo, or Mongo for short.


Daddy had never known the love of a woman, or a man, as he had been in and out of the 115 prisons in Australia over his pathetic life. A thief and a sexual degenerate, his favorite past time was fucking wombats and other marsupials. He always prayed that when he was doing a stint, that he wouldn’t get sent to one of the joints overflowing with Aboriginals and Torres Straight Islander people. The closet he had ever come to fucking a woman had been when a walrus named Allison had come into prison infirmatory and had seen the crusty scabs on his dick. She had shown him how to make a fefe out of old bubblegum, and vegemite.


Once Mongo had been old enough to crawl around like a snail leaving slime everywhere, Daddy had gotten plonked and horny. Not caring that Mongo was his retarded adopted son, he picked up the fleshy blob, and stuck his dick in his chocolate starfish. Due to his deformities Mongo was easy to stash away whenever Daddy had been incarcerated. There had been no need for a fefe, and Mongo was perfect. Feeling generous, Daddy had freely shared the blobby Mongo around with the other inmates.


Mongo was partial to the Pakis and Indians. That’s why he picked on Zainn122 so much, it was his way of flirting and foreplay as he didn’t know any better.

Anyway Mongo stopped peddling and burst into tears in front of the Dan Murphys, crying for his daddy. Something possessed him and he got back on the bike, riding it with all his retarded strength and fury over to the dirt lot his daddy had been buried in. Daddy had never been honored with a tombstone, something Mongo was deeply ashamed over as he had spent the money on his wifes meth habit and a 6pack of cheap aussie piss beer. He had not known which hole was daddys, and just started digging up the place using his retard strength to rip up trees and other brush. Consumed with thought sof digging up dead old daddy for a shag. It had been many years, and daddy by now had been maggot food. There was unlikely anything left, but Mongo was a retard and was unable to grasp the notion of decomposition. He just needed to feel Daddys slimy rotting cock up his asshole.


Stayed tuned for part two.