Weekend Footsie Foot Fetish

The following three videos are an expression  of beauty, fragility and anger in music. To know me is to know why this is so special to me ..if you don’t; observe and if the mood takes you ,seriously ,then ask. 

 Libertines – Time For Heroes

The Libertines Up The Bracket live in Japan

The Good Old Days (Libs Live in Japan 2003-2004)

Ok my friends I shall recap in hotwords. Pete. Music.Books.Christmas.Publishing.Only Fools ‘n’ Horses. Tony Hancock. Chas ‘n’ Dave. Two lil sluts. Hadouken!. Aight then that will do . A reminder , check out my Arts blog which yes it sounds pretnetious ( yeah it isnt tho ) it includes all the poetry , music , books and visuals worth a mention on the net , including my own you lucky lucky things.

shit I forgot the link LOL ..here ya go http://xstrychinex.livejournal.com/

http://dogmatika.com/dm/features_more.php?id=1916_0_5_0_M

another fucking sheep jumping on the lets bash the junkie bandwaggon , cute. anyway I thought its been an age since i last posted so id better get my act together seeing as it might be quite some time before Im on line again , hopefully just a matter of weeks but so unsure of what the future holds ( in a good way i hope ) I cant be too sure right now.

People crack me up yanno , I have this dood stalking me through the chat rooms threatening to come find me and punch my face in ( recently had some of that in real life , and in the words of the fat faggot elton john himself , im still fucking standing CUNTS!..anyway ..this dood likes to refer to me as skinny junkie cunt ..which is hysterical for two reasons ..1) the last time i was skinny i was about 13 ..i have hips and tits and all the stuff that goes along with it thanks doofus ..and 2 ) junkie?? what the FUCK??? these people think -think- because I listen to some music thats written by someone who abuses substances I automatically hero worship them to the extent Im sticking needles in my veins ..uh huh ..thats a smart thing to do , hysterical also because i live on a fucking ISLAND even if i wanted a fucking fix theres no where i could get on from anywayyyy..DUH…shit its about all I can do to keep a steady supply of cigs coming in let alone much else. for thoes of you interested in the facts rather than the fiction ( ooh which reminds me ..but i digress ) …yes ive done some bad stuff in my youth …pot , coke , a tab ot 30 but pretty much dont even bother now ( ok yeah pot big fucking deal ) yes I liked it , yes I am a bit of a loon at times ..have I stuck a needle in my arm , or chased the dragon …am i crack head ..newp ..Im not …and neither do I think its holds any kind of glamorous or romantic allure., it turns people into paranoid wreckage..yeah I like PD, I like him better when hes clean and cohherant and not on the verge of fucking dying. *raises a glass ( G&T )

Right onto altogether more pleasant stuff ..I been doing a bitta writting ..wanna read some of it then feel free, its mostly going to appeal to fans of erotic fiction ( who also have a bit of a PD crush ..lol ..Im really proud actually of the resonses ive been getting and when I eventually get My ass back on line I promise there will be lots more as I am writting almost daily now .Cheers!

How you destroy me
And everywhere I’m walking like a cyclone
But don’t mind me
How’s it fair, I’m a magnet for psychos
And pretty riddles keen on me
You can lightly sling
Into my open heavy loving heart
First touch and kissy kissy

Slash-back razor days
The boys not to behave
Oh they’re like hoodlums

Sick of themselves
And sick of their slums
Give everybody a gun
And put it on the television

That’s Reality TV, I’d pay to see
Not lobotomized celebrities who wanna be
Wanna be the …
Wow, money’s the church, fame is the steeple
Everyone on the telly indoctrinate the people
Now I say though…

What you try to do to me?

Carl stood up from his table shakily, looking blearily round at the amount of people swarming around the hall, he felt hands grab his t-shirt and blinked as he realised how close to the floor he was.

“You alright, Mr Barât?” he heard an amused voice drawling in his ear. Once the person had returned him to his upright position he turned to see that that person was in fact Russell Brand, of all people, with his hands still holding Carl’s t-shirt.

“Hat’s a bit much, isn’t it?” Carl smirks back, promptly stealing it and putting it on his own head, then fussing with Russell’s hair to try and get it back into place, letting his hands drop to Russell’s shoulders, trying to keep his balance.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Russell sneered at him, swaying slightly. Carl realised that he was probably just as drunk as him and he should probably try and find a more sturdy leaning post.

“S’not my boyfriend, you perv,” Carl mumbled, stepping back and pushing him. Russell pretended to be highly offended for a second before they both collapsed on each other laughing drunkenly.

Russell looked up and stepped back abruptly, looking alarmed and even slightly afraid. Carl grabbed the table for support, turned to see what had startled Russell so, and saw Pete across the room on his way out.

He would like to say that the whole room stood still and they ran arms outstretched across the table ignoring the glass shards cutting at their feet and…but it didn’t. A slight hush did fall over the people around them though as people looked from one libertine to the other, Pete turned at the quiet. Carl’s breath caught in his throat and he smiled weakly at him. Pete tipped his hat at him before turning and carrying on walking towards the door.

Carl watched him leave, dithering and looked pleadingly at Russell to solve all his problems for him.

“Don’t bloody look at me, mate,” he said looking down into his drink, but when Carl continued to look at him he picked a glass of something lethal looking and handed it to Carl.

“Drink it.”

Carl did with worrying speed, then Russell turned him and pushed him towards the door.

Carl stumbled towards the door, rested his arm on the door frame trying to stop the world spinning for a second then continued outside. The cold air, far from sobering him up, seemed to shake the world up even more as he looked around for Pete, trying to work out where he’d gone.

“Carl.”

Carl spun round and saw him standing a foot away from him, and lost all ability to speak. Pete looked at him blinking, obviously waiting for him to say something.

“Um,” Carl started, trying very hard not to slur. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

This was weird; Pete clean and Carl fucked off his face.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing… Russell said I should talk to you,” he said, no idea why this was relevant in any way.

“Did he now?”

Carl nodded, willing the world to stop spinning for a second so he could think of something to say.

“I’m sorry you know mate,” he said, looking down at his feet like a guilty schoolboy.

“You must be fucked. You’d never apologize if you were sober.”

Carl continued to look at the floor, then doubled over. “Fuck, I’m gonna be sick..”

Pete sighed and tried to hold him up, he knew he shouldn’t be helping, didn’t know what he was supposed to be doing, but the amount of times he’d looked after him…and it was Carl anyway. He could bitch and moan all he liked about him when he wasn’t there, but put him in front of him and he’d do anything for him.

He knelt down next to Carl as his knees buckled and he fell to the floor, holding his hair back as he retched into the street. Pete neatly shuffled to the side to avoid getting sick all over his suit.

“Okay?”
“Ugh…”

Pete smiled slightly, finding great irony in this. Where the fucking reporters now, hmm? What would they make of no-good junkie Pete Doherty holding back poor saint bloody Barat’s hair back as he threw up all over the street? He felt Carl slipping and pulled him back up by his hair, and then an arm hooked under his waist as he protested.

“You should let me choke,” Carl moaned. “I deserve hell.”

Pete rolled his eyes. And they said he was dramatic.

“You done throwing up?”

“Yeah,” Carl mumbled. “Tastes nasty.”

Pete hunted for something to wipe Carl’s face with in his pockets and, failing to find anything, took off his tie, wiped it off and threw it in the street. Carl half-fell on him, and looked up at him with huge staring eyes trying to work out who he was.

“Pete,” he grinned. “Pete!” he cried in joy, and threw his arms round him.

“Carl…Carl, you’re getting sick on me,” Pete sighed, slightly at a loss at how to deal with this situation. How were you supposed to deal with an ex- best friend who was so drunk he couldn’t remember you’d fallen out? He couldn’t just leave him here in the middle of the street.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” he sighed, and pulled him up. “Can you walk?”

Carl blinked and tried to, falling down and being caught a few inches from the floor by Pete.

“No,” he laughed. “Come on, let’s go home, it’s freezing.”

Pete sighed. “We don’t live in the same place anymore, mate,” he said as he dragged him outside the door. He couldn’t take him in, too many people would see him, and half of them had cameras. He tried hard to remember what the other guys in his band were called, why weren’t they looking after him?

“Didz!” he called inside, “Anthony! Russell! Gary!” He hoped like hell it wasn’t Gary…he was pretty sure if it was he would get his lights knocked out. But no one replied over the booming music.

“Why don’t we live in the same place?”

Pete sighed again. “Just don’t.”

“Are we married to girls?”

“No!” Pete laughed. “Come on, I s’pose you’ll have to come back to my room. Though I doubt the rest of the lads are going to like that.”

“Why, don’t they like me?” Carl frowned.

“They do, don’t worry,” he sighed, dragging him down the road, thanking God that he had got a hotel close. After about five minutes of trying to teach Carl how to walk again, they arrived at the hotel, Pete trying to ignore the looks they were getting off the staff. He pulled him up the stairs and into his room.

The air had sobered him up slightly, but he still hadn’t got a clue what was going on or what had happened for a long while. The only thing he seemed to know from questioning was who he was

He opened the door to his flat warily and found a few friends lying around in the room.

“Erm… some privacy please?” They all looked shocked to see Carl and none too pleased.

“Now,” Pete said curtly. They filed out, glaring at Carl.

“Come on, toothpaste,” Pete said. He dragged Carl into the bathroom and put his head over the sink, squeezing some onto a brush.

“Open,” he said, and Carl obeyed. Pete smiled slightly at this obedient Carl, so used to before when he used to have to argue for about half an hour with him to get him to pass him the remote. He tried to brush his teeth as best he could and gave him some water.

“No! Don’t swallow it, spit it out – ” Pete winced the second he’d said it, as Carl half-spat it all down the wall and on the floor and burst into giggles.

“Really, Peter,” he smirked. He splashed his face with water and sat down on the bath blinking, apparently gaining some control. Pete was terrified that Carl was going to sober up and that this was going to be broken – he wished they could really do this, just both forget everything that happened and go back to normal.

Carl jumped half a foot as his phone went off. He pulled it out of his pocket and frowned as he answered it.

“Who’s this?” He looked at Pete, puzzled. “Do we know any Didz’s?”

Pete held out his hand. “Let me talk to him.” Carl shrugged and gave him the phone.

“Hi,” Pete said awkwardly. “Yeah, he’s fine. It’s Pete.” He reckoned he could feel the venom down the phone line.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill him or something, I found him outside… I think he was looking for me, he’s completely fucked, I think he said Russell gave him something to drink… yeah, he just came with me, he can’t remember a thing, he didn’t know who you were, he thinks…he thinks none of what happened actually happened.”

Carl blinked from where he was now lying back in the bath.

“What happened?” he whispered. Pete just shhh-ed him.

“Well, what am I supposed to do? You can come and get him if you want, but I doubt he’ll go with you, he hasn’t got a clue who you are. Okay.” He gave Didz the name and room number of the hotel.

“I’ll be there in five minutes,” Didz said coldly to him. Probably making sure he wasn’t going to try and kill him.

“Pete, I’m cold,” Carl whined. “And my clothes smell, and I’ve got sick in my hair,” he slurred.

“Yes Carl, that’s why you shouldn’t get so drunk,” Pete said patronisingly, earning himself a mock glare from Carl. “Come on then,” he said, giving him his arm and leading him back into the bedroom. Carl smiled as he saw the huge bed and went to dive into it.

“Don’t! You’ll get sick in it!”

Carl rolled his eyes, “Fine then,” and proceeded to take off all his clothes down to his boxers and jumped into the bed. Pete blinked and looked at the ceiling until Carl was suitably covered with the quilt.

Carl looked at him and then pointedly at the space next to him. How was he supposed to react to this? He couldn’t say no to Carl, never had been able to. Apart from…but that was different. But if he did – in the morning Carl would probably accuse him of taking advantage of him, and even if he didn’t, God it would be awkward.

“Peteeee I’m still cold. You’re warm.”

“Nice to see you’ve lost none of your subtlety,” Pete replied, but at Carl’s persistent gesturing and pleading he walked over to the bed.

“Clothes,” Carl said simply. “Off.”

Pete bit his lip, he so couldn’t do this, Carl was so drunk… this could probably be considered as rape. And Didz was going to be here in a second, and this really wasn’t going to look good…

As Pete continued to stand motionless by the bed, Carl sighed and crawled over to him, pulling him down next to him and straddling his hips to stop any protesting as he undid his shirt.

Shit. Shit. Shit. And the door clicked open.

Didz and Anthony walked in, both taking a step back from the bed as they saw them.

“Save me, please, he can’t remember, and….” Pete gestured to these pretty boys he hardly knew.

After looking wary for a minute they seemed to grasp the true situation and smirked slightly at how mortified their friend was going to be in the morning.

“Carl,” Didz said. “Do you know who I am?” Carl looked at him for a long time and shook his head.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Didz,” he said slowly, torn between being worried and amused.

“Hi,” Carl said simply, then turned to Pete. “They’re hot, can we keep them?”

Anthony laughed.

“Oh god.”

“Whats he taken?”

“I don’t know! You’re supposed to be his friends, why didn’t you keep a better eye on him?”

“We thought Russell was looking after him!”

Pete rolled his eyes.

“Russell couldn’t look after a chair. Christ,” he said. “Carl, stop it.” (Carl had started undoing his trousers.)

“Well, at least we know the rumours about you two were true,” Didz smirked. Pete rolled his eyes. “Oh, good.”

“You know, I think we might just leave you.”

“What?!”

“Well, like you said, there’s nothing we can do, he doesn’t recognise us. And I think if we tried to prise him away from his precious Peter he might try and kill us.”

“But…in the morning?”

“He won’t remember a thing, and if he does its his own fault. Don’t worry, we’ll tell him you put up a fight. Besides, you can always say you were drunk too.”

“Noo…the pretty boys are going,” Carl whined and got up off Pete to drag Anthony, who’d just started walking to the door, back into the room.

“Stay, it’ll be fun…” He smiled coyly up at him through his fringe as he played with Anthony’s curls. Anthony looked terrified. Ditz and Pete looked amazed as Carl laughed.

“Carl…Carl, I’m not into that sort of stuff mate.”

“Ha..” Carl laughed quietly and walked towards him. Anthony walked backwards until he felt himself back into a door “Didz…Didz help, you son of a bitch!” Ditz was currently standing biting down on his fist trying not to laugh.

“Pete?” Anthony tried.

Pete sighed and gave in.

“Carlos…” he purred. Carl turned immediately, smirking at him “A boy could get jealous,” Pete said, blinking at him with huge eyes.

“Whatever, I know you like watching,” grinned Carl, turning back to Anthony and kissing him. Anthony froze and looked around in panic.

“Jesus, relax…” Carl whispered into his ear. Anthony didn’t really see what option he had here, Carl had him pinned against a door for God’s sake. He gave in and let him kiss him, trying to ignore Didz’s laughing in the background.

“Oh my god Pete, do you have a camera?”

Pete laughed and shook his head. “Have you never seen him like this before?”

Didz shook his head, looking at the now-making-out Carl and Anthony in amazement.

“Carlos! Let the poor boy breathe!” Pete called to him. Carl pulled away from a flushed Anthony now getting his breath back, and crawled across the bed to Peter.

“Carl, I…” Pete couldn’t do this. It was so wrong, but Carl was straddling him again and pinning his hands above his head.

“Didz…I objected, okay?”

“Okay mate, we’ll leave you to it?” Didz laughed.

“Yeah…” Pete half-gasped as Carl slipped his hands into his boxers. “Fuck, erm….fuck…Carl, stop a second…CARL!” he wriggled underneath him.

“Please be nearby here in the morning, I think you may be – CARL! For the love of god! – needed..”

“Okay,” Didz laughed, and pulled a still-dazed Anthony out the door. Pete lay back panting as Carl pulled off his trousers and pulled down his boxers. Pete was hoping he might get off lightly here, but Carl moved his head down and… Pete moaned as he felt Carl lick up his length as only he could.

“Fuck Carl, oh God I forgot how good you were at this..” he moaned, as he felt Carl’s mouth wrap round him. “Shit…fuck…” he followed this with a long line of similar obscenities, wondering vaguely how Carl couldn’t walk but could still suck someone off with such skill. He stopped thinking anything at all as Carl continued, and let his head sink back into the pillows.

“Carl…I’m gonna…”

Carl immediately pulled back and searched in his pockets.

“Have you got anything?”

“No way. you’re too drunk!”

Carl pouted. “Please?”

Pete sighed. Carl ran his hands over his chest and pulled himself up him, making sure every inch of him brushed up against Pete, and leant down and kissed him.

Pete thought he might die, Carl was kissing him. This wasn’t meant to happen again, he’d accepted and gotten over it, and now…he felt Carl’s lips soft against his own coaxing him open and wrapping their tongues together as he moved up against him, Pete only had a second to bask in Carl kissing him before he moved away again.

“Come on, please, I swear I won’t be mad in the morning.”

Pete bit his lip as Carl started nuzzling his neck and covering it with kisses. But what would anyone do in his situation, the one thing you thought you had lost comes strolling back into your life, pretends nothing’s ever happened, and begs you to have sex with them. And this wasn’t just some girl from down the pub… this was Carl.

“Come on,” Carl whispered. “I’ll let you have top…”

Okay, Pete reasoned, you would have to be a complete idiot to say no to that. He wasn’t made of stone.

“Oh, fine…” he said, still feeling like he should show some kind of unwilling. Carl grinned at him, and Pete felt his stomach flip as he reached into his bedside drawer and pulled out a tube.

“Wait…how long has it been?” he asked.

“I don’t know, when did we last…?” Carl responded.

Pete thought quickly. If Didz had been so shocked to see the way Carl was acting around him, and that he’d kissed Anthony, he could assume that Carl had been posing as straight since the split.

“Ages ago.”

Carl shrugged and wrapped his arms around Pete’s waist as Pete instinctively felt his hands go down and slip inside him causing Carl to squirm and moan and tighten his arms round his waist.

“Pete…you’re really nervous.”

“What?”

“You’re really nervous…what’s the matter?” Carl asked in between moans.

“Nothing, nothing, I’m fine…” Pete replied, and tried to just enjoy this, it was after all probably the last time this was going to happen. Carl smiled, leant up and kissed him again, and then moved down to his neck, biting him lightly as he spread his fingers.

“Fuck, Pete…oh, fuck…” he moaned, as he squirmed more in his arms. Pete felt himself moaning slightly at the sheer feel of this all again, it had been so fucking long. Carl grabbed the tube off the bed and squeezed some onto his fingers.

“No Carl, don’t, I’ll…”

Carl smirked. “Self-control, Peter,” as he slid his hand over his cock. Pete’s eyes closed and he moaned.

“Erm…Pete…” Carl said after a few seconds, smiling amusedly at the frozen Peter. Pete pushed his fingers harder in reply and found Carl’s spot in seconds, Carl moaned and rolled onto his front.

“Fuck me.”

Pete bit his lip, took away his fingers and slid slowly inside him. Carl cried out.

“Fuck….sorry…” Pete said quickly, and tried to keep some self-control. “Fuck, you’re so tight Carl…”

Carl moaned into the pillow. “Peter…please…”

Pete moved his hips slowly, smirking at Carl’s frustrated moans as he squirmed beneath him.

“Pete!”

Pete smirked, pulled out, and pushed back in as hard as he could

“Faster Pete…please…” Pete didn’t need telling twice. Carl’s hands twisted in the sheets as he moaned. “Oh fuck, Pete…fuck…”

Pete reached down and wrapped his hands round Carl’s cock underneath them. He tilted himself upwards just slightly.

“Oh Pete…”

Pete smirked, and felt himself lose all control as fucked him, moaning probably just as loud as Carl was, and squeezed with his other hand bringing Carl over the edge with him.

He lay there a few seconds before rolling off, and Carl immediately pulled him into a tight hug and covered his face and neck with kisses.

“Fuck, I love you Pete…”

Pete felt himself melt into his kisses and decided to let all knowledge of reality escape him as he felt Carl’s arms lock tight around him.

After a few seconds however, Pete opened his eyes and looked up at him suspiciously.

“Wait…what kind of drink gets you that drunk, and yet allows you to do that that well…when you couldn’t even walk about half an hour ago, and yet you still have your memory loss when you apparently sober up slightly?”

Carl looked up at him guiltily. Pete’s mouth dropped open, literally unable to speak.

“I’m sorry….I just couldn’t think of anything to say, and…I thought if we could just pretend for one night…”

Pete just shook his head in amazement. “You…you…you can’t just…and think everything will just…” he gestured madly with his arms.

“We just did.”

“Carl! You sneaky little…but you…you were sick!”

“Just ‘cos I was a bit drunk didn’t mean I lost my memory.”

Pete shook his head at him.

“I think I may have scarred Anthony for life,” said Carl.

Pete nodded dumbly.

“Fuck, I’m exhausted. Man, I’ve missed you Pete.” Carl smiled and kissed him and closed his eyes, leaving Pete still looking at him in amazement with his mouth slightly open.