P
past_perfect
Guest
I'm looking for an editor who has no difficulty with experimental (stress is on mental 
) stuff, preferably from the UK. You should not be easily thrown off by edgy humor, painful puns and a high strangeness factor due to my personal background (English is my second language). I'm not sure about the category, as it brushes quite a few.
Hm, maybe it's easier to give you an exerpt, to see what you are up against here:
...
3rd November
A day to remember. Decided to bite the bullet and submit my shit today. Got stuck on the tube, because of some crazy terror alert. The train was packed. I was wedged in close to the doors between two middle-aged women and two Japanese tourists. Where do you put your hands on these occasions? Mine were close to hot fleshy thingies that could have been anything. Think I felt a hard-on on my leg, but hopefully it was just a hand or a purse. Got me going though. I think I haven’t had enough action recently. Felt drops of pre-cum dripping down my trousers, as I still haven’t gotten any underwear. So in addition to every claustrophobic’s nightmare I let my siren call with the sweet scent of anticipation. One of the ladies shifted her position and looked me straight in the eye. She rubbed her tits on my chest, but made it look like an accident. My hard-on didn’t feel like an accident though. I shifted and pressed it against her hand. Her eyes lit up and she held her breath for a second. She turned her hand so that she could clutch what was by then significantly more than just a straw. She paused, then squeezed, softly, appreciating in full length what good fortune had put at her grasp and disposal. I thought I participate in the scheme to bring joy instead of terror to the world and steered my hand to what I can only hope was her minge, lest someone else got a free ride. Just when my middle finger received a warm wet welcome, the train started moving again. We actually both sighed when it started. Can’t even remember what she looked like. She had beautiful green eyes though. And we both got off at the same station.
....
So, send? Hang on, I missed something. What is it? There was something in her first paragraph. Repeat, enough. A word. Did she repeat any word particularly often? Doesn’t look like it, really. Unless… no. Maybe in the previous bit…Wonder, wonder…nah, that can’t be it. Picture. Picture. Picture… yep, that should be the word of the day. So she wants a picture. Of what? My face? My arse? My prick? I don’t have a camera babe. And that’s not something I’d ask one of my mates for. “Hey Timmy, would you mind immortalising my penis as a personal favour? But hang on, I’d rather work it up a little first.” Nope, not really in my book now. Coming to think of it, Timmy would probably love it. Fuck, of course, there is the mobile. Brilliant. Hey sunny, all rise, shine and smile. It won’t take your soul. Stand proud. Fabulous. Upload. Attach. Send. Now think. Yeah, perfect. That is very classy. Now you’ve crossed the line to perversion proper. Should get a trench-coat and a lawyer. And some sleep. Some sleep.
...
) stuff, preferably from the UK. You should not be easily thrown off by edgy humor, painful puns and a high strangeness factor due to my personal background (English is my second language). I'm not sure about the category, as it brushes quite a few.Hm, maybe it's easier to give you an exerpt, to see what you are up against here:
...
3rd November
A day to remember. Decided to bite the bullet and submit my shit today. Got stuck on the tube, because of some crazy terror alert. The train was packed. I was wedged in close to the doors between two middle-aged women and two Japanese tourists. Where do you put your hands on these occasions? Mine were close to hot fleshy thingies that could have been anything. Think I felt a hard-on on my leg, but hopefully it was just a hand or a purse. Got me going though. I think I haven’t had enough action recently. Felt drops of pre-cum dripping down my trousers, as I still haven’t gotten any underwear. So in addition to every claustrophobic’s nightmare I let my siren call with the sweet scent of anticipation. One of the ladies shifted her position and looked me straight in the eye. She rubbed her tits on my chest, but made it look like an accident. My hard-on didn’t feel like an accident though. I shifted and pressed it against her hand. Her eyes lit up and she held her breath for a second. She turned her hand so that she could clutch what was by then significantly more than just a straw. She paused, then squeezed, softly, appreciating in full length what good fortune had put at her grasp and disposal. I thought I participate in the scheme to bring joy instead of terror to the world and steered my hand to what I can only hope was her minge, lest someone else got a free ride. Just when my middle finger received a warm wet welcome, the train started moving again. We actually both sighed when it started. Can’t even remember what she looked like. She had beautiful green eyes though. And we both got off at the same station.
....
So, send? Hang on, I missed something. What is it? There was something in her first paragraph. Repeat, enough. A word. Did she repeat any word particularly often? Doesn’t look like it, really. Unless… no. Maybe in the previous bit…Wonder, wonder…nah, that can’t be it. Picture. Picture. Picture… yep, that should be the word of the day. So she wants a picture. Of what? My face? My arse? My prick? I don’t have a camera babe. And that’s not something I’d ask one of my mates for. “Hey Timmy, would you mind immortalising my penis as a personal favour? But hang on, I’d rather work it up a little first.” Nope, not really in my book now. Coming to think of it, Timmy would probably love it. Fuck, of course, there is the mobile. Brilliant. Hey sunny, all rise, shine and smile. It won’t take your soul. Stand proud. Fabulous. Upload. Attach. Send. Now think. Yeah, perfect. That is very classy. Now you’ve crossed the line to perversion proper. Should get a trench-coat and a lawyer. And some sleep. Some sleep.
...
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