WHO...I MEAN, WHAT...I DID THIS SUMMER

By Kevin Coffee

Not-So-Big-Brother, I have seen people write accounts of events like this before. But I never thought anything like this would happen to me. Even now, if I tell my friends or family or priest that I had sex with Britney Spears, they say "hog feathers!" Actually, that's not what the priest said. He said, "I bet she doesn't have a sweet bottom like a 4th grade altar boy!" But, anyway, here's how the amazing event happened...

I work at a CBS affiliate TV station, and every once in a while a celebrity drops by for some reason or other. In late June, I arrived at work to find everyone crowded around the lobby, and then I saw what was causing all the interest, Britney Spears was there. Apparently she had a friend in town who was related to someone at the station or something like that, and they got her to drop by for a visit. Everyone in the lobby was asking her questions about what it was like to be such a superstar. I was thinking, yeah...what's it like to be a superstar who's never displayed a single moment of real talent! I know how she got where she's at, and as I was thinking of this in a rather negative light, she suddenly turned and caught my gaze. She stopped in mid-sentence. An awkward pause that she then tried to ignore, and she went back to blabbering whatever it was she was in the middle of blabbering. Suddenly, one of the directors I work with blurted out, "Hey, Kevin! Why don't you go get your digital camera so we can have some shots of Britney! Everyone else get to work!" As the crowd started to go about their daily duties, I made my way for my office when I was halted by a hand on my shoulder.

It was Britney. "I'll come with you!" she said.

"How delightful!" I blurted back, immediately thinking that sounded really lame.

We walked to my office, all the while she asked questions about the various departments we passed and how they were involved in the daily process of running a TV station. Whatever I took the time to explain I felt was passing right through her pretty, empty head. But she nodded a lot and tried to pretend to understand. Finally in my office, I grabbed my digital camera right away.

"We can go around and get some shots with people around the station," I suggested.

Britney reached over and shut my office door."Why don't we just take some pictures in here? You have a cool office."

For some reason she then did one of her little off-balance dance moves that always makes me cringe. I was beginning to get really curious about where this was heading.

"So, what else do you do, when you're not working?" she asked.

"Well, uh...I do a cartoon on the web. I'm a web cartoonist."

I wasn't expecting any reaction at all, so I was shocked when her eyes lit up the way everyone's eyes around the station had been lighting up when they saw her for the first time. I couldn't believe the reaction.

"Whoa, Dude!" she half-shouted, "Web cartoonists are so cool! I've always wanted to meet one. I can't believe this! All I ever see is actors or singers or producers or agents. I've been going crazy trying to meet a web cartoonist!"

I had to wonder if she was joking. But before I could ask, before I could say anything she seemed to shoot across the room without her feet touching the floor and our lips locked in a hot, long kiss. She grabbed the back of my hair and ran her other hand all over my body. I knew she wouldn't be able to avoid noticing my obviously stiffening interest as her hand rubbed my crotch.

"Ooooooh! You must really like me, Big Boy!" she said. I couldn't think of a response before she dropped to her knees and expertly and swiftly unhooked my belt and dropped my pants. She smiled at the still swelling bulge in my undies and instantly pulled them down, and was startled beyond comprehension to suddenly be greeted by the sight of two fully erect penises springing up right before her face.

"Oh my god!" she shouted. "Oh my god! You've got--"

Britney didn't finish the thought, instead lurching forward and licking each of my twins. But then she stopped.

"You know who my favorite web cartoonist is?" she asked.

Great timing, I thought. Right now I couldn't possibly care less who your favorite web cartoonist is. All that matters in the world is that you shut up and get back to doing what you just started to do! "Uh...could we maybe discuss that a little later," I asked, "and get back to--"

"I really like that web cartoonist from...oh, where is he from. South America or East America or Australiany or whatever it's called. Terry. Terry Sedgwick!"

What the hell, I thought. My mind was now spinning. At the mention of Sedgwick's name my twins went instantly limp. I wanted to let it go, to try to get her attention back to the oralities. But I just couldn't.

"You mean to kneel there and tell me," I said, "that of the five or six people outside of Australia who are aware of Sedgwick's existence...that YOU'RE one of them!"

"Oh yeah!" she cooed, "I love his cartoons! He does that one called The Ferret's Eye!"

I wanted to laugh. Or shout. I was numb from the velocity that my brain was spinning around in my head.

"I've seen Terry's picture on the web before," she said, "and I think he's the coolest. I'd really like to meet him."

In complete disbelief, I still had no idea what to say, and then she suddenly blurted out, "I want you to have sex with me!"

Well, I thought, that was a disturbing, unbelievably odd detour. But at least we're back on the right track. But then she darted across the room and grabbed her purse. I was dumbfounded as she reached into it and pulled out a scraggly, greying, fake beard.

"I want you to poke me with both of your throbbing lust-tubes!" she said. "And I'm going to pretend you're Terry Sedgwick! Anyone who wants to have sex with me from now on has to put on this fake beard and pretend to be Terry Sedgwick. It's the only way I can get off. He's the only man I want!"

The rest of the experience is a blur. I barely remember putting on the beard, or the sight of her ripping her clothes off and getting on the carpet on all fours. I barely remember getting behind her and thrusting the twins into her. And unfortunately, I clearly remember her yelling "Terry! Oh my god Terry!" over and over and over. And I remember her shouting "I'm a wombat! Treat me like a dirty little wombat!"

Various station workers had seen us enter my office, and had hung around outside my door in curiosity. To this day, I can't walk through the station without someone yelling "Treat me like a dirty little wombat!"

Not-So-Big-Brother Responds: I was prepared to believe this, even the fact that Britney has been two-timing me, right up until the point where Sedgwick entered the fray. Now, in retrospect, I think we all know what you've really been up to this summer, Kevin, and believe me you'll grow hairs on your palm if you don't cut down.

Not-So-Big-Brother posting on behalf of LARRY MILLER III...who is so desperate to stay on the board that he sent me the following e-mail with a view to me posting it for him. I'm so incredibly kind and large hearted! (Must be the steroids.)

Brian:

Just got the latest photos in from the Not So Big Brother House and thought I'd share them with you....

The first is a shot of Cathy and Christine cavorting in a mud bath at the "Wombat Spa" room in the house...

and you wonder why there's not much activity on the BOARD!!!

Next photo is of that recent delivery of milk...

I'm not sure why, but Cathy is holding Paul's head down under so he get get a REALLY GOOD drink!

In any case, after this last week the fans have all begun packing up and are boarding the next train out of town....

Look out colleges!

Lastly, I'm not sure what she's trying to say, but Kevin Coffee's girlfriend walked past wearing this ...

Well. That's all I have for now. If I'm still here after the voting I'll be sending more pictures!

Not-So-Big-Brother addendum: Well...you heard what Larry just said. You know where the voting board is...

The date: Friday 23rd August, 2002

The time: Brunch

The reason: Hardcore helluvatoughness with the Bren Gun

It was a day like any other. Terry was picking and licking, Coffee was comparing sizes with Larry, and apparently Coffee was winning... badly...

I had come back from doing my house patrol. I did it every day the whole summer long. I have no idea why, I think it was either an attempt at catharsis, or just a way of keeping to my stable weight of 15 stones while also making myself super strong for all the ladies once I made my escape from the house. I could, you know, even with the Bren Gun. I mean, sling it to my back, climb up the wall, lay the beatdown on all the nasty guard robots.... booyah...

So anyways, I rested my gear, took my boots off, and sat down to some entertainment. We had locked Cathy and Christine in the room and I had carved myself a little hole to watch. Big enough for 3, so it was me, Paul and Sedgers watching the excitement. However, it was cut short....

A scream. A violent, putrid, scream of screams. Screamerific I might add.

I sprinted from the little carved room, leaving the two men watching the girls. I was going to miss out, gawd dangit... Anyway. I ran, ran like the frickin wind. And I fear to this day what I saw....

KEEP ME IN THE HOUSE TO FIND OUT EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED WITH THE ONLY MEN LEFT IN THE ROOM, A BREN GUN AND SOME OF THAT SCARY CHOCOLATE!!!

Not-So-Big-Brother...just checking to see if this thing is working properly...

Not-So-Big-Brother Response to Kevin...

Firstly...if I let one person out of the house for the World's Biggest Dick contest I'll have to let you all go as I've never come across such a bunch of big dicks as I have as far as the inmates of this blog are concerned. However...I'm sure a bit of time off for good behaviour wouldn't go amiss.

Secondly...judging by the lacksadaisical blogging of the cellmates recently I suspect that the contest may have drawn to a close by Sept 16th because I'll be booting everyone of your lazy good-for-nothing bar stewards off the board long before then!

Thirdly, say hello to Guy for me and please remind him that he still owes me a fiver for the carton of Lambert and Butler I sent him. As far as attending Guy's golfing meet goes, I have actually asked him in the past to hold his tournament in Royal Lytham and St Annes...which is just up the coast from me and would be a much better venue than his usual course. Unfortunately he just made some excuse about the Amazing Kreskin being scared of flying and therefore couldn't change venue. Pathetic excuse if you ask me. He just doesn't want to coff up for those fags, that's all.

Fourthly...why take two penises into the shower when you can just take one...a regular python of a member with anti-lock brakes and revolving bellend. For more details please visit The Home of The Mighty Hughes One-Eyed Trouser Snake...and don't forget to bring a bottle and a bird.

Not-So-Big-Brother

Paul, that contest you mentioned on August 29th sounds like a lot of fun! Count me in. I always love the moment when I drop my shorts in front of a large crowd of people and get to see the look of shock on all the faces of the folks who've never seen a man with two penises. Will you let us out of the house for this "Big Dick" contest, Oh Great Big Brother? By the way, Paul, that cartoon with the nun checking out the crucifix is one of the funniest illustrations I've ever seen. Any idea who did it? Having been raised in a strict Catholic environment, that had me rolling on the floor.

King of the Wombats here Kezza. I snuck in under M'Organ's guard here and posted the picture of one of the Sisters of Perpetual Scrutiny. I snipped it off the Net. Not sure who, why, where ... could have been S**** or Hughes on a good day. Like they ever happen! :0)

Speaking of being stuck in the house, Oh Great Big Brother, I just remembered that I'm going to be out of town the week of September 16th. According to the number of contestants being voted out once a week, the contest will still be going then, I think...unless my calculations are coming out of my rear end. Anyway, I'm not assuming in any way that I won't have my sorry ass voted out by then, but if not somehow, I won't be around for pretty much a whole week. It's for a really good reason, though. I'm going to Guy Gilchrist's Mudpie Golf Outing Extravaganza, making the long drive from Indiana to Connecticut. It's going to be very cool and there's gonna be some really big-name cartoonists there. I'm really looking forward to it. Come to think of it, all the cartoonists in this house should be going to this event. No excuses about being all the way from England or Australia or, where do you live, Morgan? Bent Fork, Tennessee?