An amorous lad, Jeff from Devon
Met a girl and he promised her heaven
Fraught with amorous sighs
Reached aroused twixt her things
Turns out not quite a Kate, but a Kevin
Just a little something for you.
An amorous lad, Jeff from Devon
Met a girl and he promised her heaven
Fraught with amorous sighs
Reached aroused twixt her things
Turns out not quite a Kate, but a Kevin
In an English country garden…
I’ve never been one for gardening, the extent of my green fingered interests lying mostly with occasionally mowing the lawn and popping to the tip to throw away all the dead plants Mrs Afterwards bought in an attempt to brighten up the back way.
About 2 weeks before lockdown we started a building project, a cellar conversion is underway with a new entrance meaning the builders had to dig our where previously I was cultivated a lovely collection of weeds, hosepipes and rusting bicycles. As they dug out for the steps and the new door they discovered a mass of old stone which seemed to have been used as backfill when the house was built in 1906. Driven, I think, by my love of cutting corners and looking for shortcuts I insisted that they not worry about moving it but to leave it and I would instead build a rockery.
I then went away to research rockeries.
Anyway, long and not particularly interesting story short, Ive spend the past many weeks putting together what I think passes as one (who knows how long has passed – we are, as you know, in lockdown time and that doesn’t move like real time) . Something I am sure will be proven by bearded scientists in years to come in an attempt to explain just how it was possible that people got so fat during quarantine when they swear they went for a long walk everyday and ate lots of salad.
There was membrane laying. rock piling, soil carting, plant planting, fountain fitting, light fitting and pebble placing. The photos below show my progress.
I would note that as pretty as I think it looks, I am currently having some problems with finding it all a little creepy and unnerving. The plants (I just went for alpines and succulents) are spreading at a phenomenal rate. The succulents doubled in size in a week and I swear to Jeebus they sing this sweet little song when I look at them but I know that they want to lay spores inside my orifices and control me and make me do their bidding.
Fuck them! Might just lay a patio.














A slight change in the lockdown rules. Probably. Maybe.
So today sees something of a relaxation of the lockdown rules here in England. As long as you can figure them out. We can apparently go out and meet with other people outdoors, but must maintain social distancing. Oh and we can only meet one on one. I think. So you could potentially meet one of your parents but not both at the same time.
You could though leave one locked in the car (with a window cracked for safety) and then enjoy alternate visits with them. You cannot however see both at the same time. Unless they both stay in the car and you roll the window down fully and maintain a safe distance from the pavement. That you can do.
They cannot though give you a lift home if it starts to rain and you’ve forgotten your umbrella. You’ll have to just get wet.
On the plus side, the government have extended the furlough scheme meaning 7 million people will be guaranteed 80% of their wage, from the government, until the end of June. Beyond that it will continue until the end of September, though at a reduced rate.
I do fear that people will go out and throw caution to the wind though. There will then be an inevitable spike and those back to work will then have to return home under a second lockdown and they will all resume their government funded lie ins, scrolling through Tik Tok and vigorous masturbation.
Maybe that’s the hope. Who knows.
Be Pure, be Vigilant, Behave
Go on, treat yourself.
Married chap with a thing for his gardener
Found his long garden hose quite the hardener
He would gaze at it’s girth
As it watered the earth
Made him wander and betray his partner
DIY hair cut and beard trim
I have a t-shirt which proclaims that a man who sacrifices his bear for a woman deserves neither. Think about it for a moment. Okay, got it? A deep truth and one I believe most firmly. I have the t-short so it must be true, right?
I do enjoy a good beard, and lock down has allowed me to cultivate a particularly large one. Well large by my usual standards. It is not of a hillbilly serial killer or suicide bomber quality, but it’s a decent effort I think. Okay so it’s not wholly out of choice – I couldn’t find my razor charger once it got to the ‘needs a trim stage’, but it is of a decent enough quality to probably scare dogs and small children.
When it comes to hair, I usually sport a number one crew cut also so the hair has been enjoying a summer of freedom also. It gets kinda wavy and curly when I let it grow which is usually a sign to shave it all off.
I found the beard trimmer yesterday and charged it so was able to have a crack at it today. It’s no easy feat to cut your hair with a beard trimmer but after about half an hour of carefully and gradually reducing the length I think I just about cracked it. At the front at least. I think perhaps I may have the beginnings of a mullet at the back but it’ll do for now.
Tomorrow I am hoping to have a crack at my youngest’s hair. He had a lockdown cut from the missus using only a pair of blunt kitchen scissors and whilst it looked okay at first it now looks like a scruffy version of Boris Johnson.
If that can even be a thing…

How has your experience been?
I know it is not day 1, we are obviously at what feels like 427 days into lockdown, but this is the first day I have chosen to write about it. It may be my last too. Not as in it is my last day but in that I may not choose to write about it again.
On the work front, it has been a pretty easy ride for me so far. I run a team of financial modellers for a large bank and they sent us home even before the lockdown was declared and they have been brilliant in supporting us. We can order whatever equipment we need, they pay us whether we can actually get any work done or not, and on that front it has been pretty plain sailing. There are challenges of course but moaning about them would seem petty. Ive managed to move to a 4 day week, have developed a taste for home working and do not really ever see myself returning to the office full time even after this shit storm has passed. If anything, I think I am working harder and longer than before.
At home there have been a few challenges given that we commenced a building project to renovate the 3 cellars in the house two weeks before lockdown so have been living in a building site for a couple of months but we seem to have ridden that pretty well. Yes we only have a few usable rooms and yes, it’s filthier than a whore’s nickers but there are worse things going on out there right. Some of the builders have recently returned which has posed a few issues with trying to social distance inside our own home but now that they have fitted a toilet in the cellar and the separate entrance we don’t really see them much but we know they are down there because of the absolute bedlam of hammering and drilling going on.
Home schooling has been hilarious. I did some volunteer teaching a while back and quite enjoyed it so figured I might be good at this. Turns out I could not be more wrong. I have neither the patience, aptitude nor – at this is probably the most important point – intelligence to teach my own children. Fortunately the wife is far more intelligent (yes I have said it MRs Afterwards if you read this) and suited to it than I am so she has for the most part taken up the mantle of teacher. It still occasionally results in shouting, crying and threats of putting the boys up for adoption but all we can do is try.
So day to day things seem pretty much in hand. I will admit that the whole thing certainly has me anxious on a number of fronts – as it does most people I am sure. We have family members who are isolated on their own, there is always the worry of what if’ and there is the inevitable endless speculation about where this all ends. The wife is more pragmatic than me in these things so she has been doing most of the shopping as I definitely worry about going outside more than she does. On that front though I can;t actually get out much right now anyway because on Friday I fell down a step heading outside and have damaged my ankle pretty badly so am not particularly mobile right now. Funny thing is though, as I fell I knew it was going to be bad and in less than a second I clearly remember throwing myself forward to prevent me doing something even worse to it thinking “Fuck this, I ain’t going to no hospital!”
I think that is about enough for now. That has you mostly caught up with our general situation and I will possibly write more now that I’ve started…
Oh it will do. Hardly great but these are tough times…;)
Once a chap who was self isolated
Day and night himself hard violated
He developed a cough
And his penis fell off
And his sphincter was annihalated
Words and more words and more words still…
Memories in monochrome, sweet youth now seems so far away
and slowly memories ebb and flow, sandcastles crumbling in the tide
And walls fall down she cannot hide
Heart’s windows closed, doors locked, inside
She waits, so frail, her mind to long lost days does stray
Remembering, those rainbow days
Grey swept away, bright lights so shine
And lovers limbs do sweet entwine
Once more taste embrace divine
And hand in hand he finds her there in summer’s perfumed haze.
And so he leads her, barefoot, laughing, youth restored
Down paths familiar painted through the years
In love and joy, devoid of fears
And through the door, there no more tears
At last she rests, home, much loved and adored
Mostly I just baked, cooked and ate in April. The building work has restarted, and then I grew a massive beard!



















Blah blah Blah words
The brightness of the things that were
Like summer sun warm on the skin
Now shadows cast, and blind her gaze
And endless days to night give way
Until they set, horizons crimson
Set ablaze just one last time
No more remembers, dawn will come
Follows the embers, She remembers him no more
And light once more reveals her beauty
Safe in the warmth, new days embrace
Pretty sure this is a thing. Bet there are web sites dedicated to it.
Once a fellow who gladly would savour
His gaseous girls rectal flavour
Inhaled her bottom gusts
and they filled him with lust
Made more foul by the beans that he gave her
____________
Here’s a follow up, a 2 for 1
____________
A foul smelling fan, name of Martin
Got turned on when his wife started farting
He’d breath in butt aroma
Made him quite a loud moaner
He’d explode when her butt cheeks were parting
_________
Sorry
Not sorry
The latest edition to my 2000AD collection of stuff.
Heres another one I purchased a while back. The 2000AD Apocolypse War stories were some of the most influential strips when I was growing up and I could not resist this when I saw it. It is a 2 type resin cast with a stand and just quite fabulous! It has a little stand for displaying.








You can get a peek here of some of the other stuff I have added about my love…
https://afterwards.blog/2020/04/06/2000ad-stuff-my-carlos-ezquerra-lawgiver-replica/
https://afterwards.blog/2018/09/02/2000ad-art-rogue-trooper-by-mike-collins/
https://afterwards.blog/2018/07/05/my-dredd-tattoo-2/
https://afterwards.blog/2018/07/07/my-other-dredd-tattoo/
https://afterwards.blog/2018/08/08/2000ad-art-dredd-and-the-dark-judges-david-bircham/
https://afterwards.blog/2018/07/22/2000ad-action-figure-judge-death/
https://afterwards.blog/2018/07/05/2000ad-script-t-b-grover-alan-grant-and-art-by-cliff-robinson/
February had 29 days, March 200 and April has 625. I have no idea what day or month it is to be honest…
This poor lad I know, self isolated
Spent his days watching porn, masturbated
Till his bits were quite raw
And his arms were real sore
And his balls were all red and inflated
A continuation of a start of something perhaps…Just trying to get my juices flowing again
Michelle does a load of great prompts each month. I used to do a lot but less so now. Ill try get back into them I think. Theyre often just snippets of things and seldom more. This one is the glimmer of an idea I needed to get down on paper, using the prompts as ca bit of an idea spark – and like everything else I pretty much just share it whether done or not.
_________________________
“Would you like refreshments sir?” Offered the Nutri-Bot as it hurried alongside Cole as he strode from the deck. It clicked and whirred in hopeful anticipation of a sale, the outline of a small serving hatch in the front of its white cylindrical body pulsing with an inviting blue light. “I am fully equipped to provide all the daily sustenance you require in a single…”
“No thank you” Said Cole, almost apologetically. Re-entry always left his stomach feeling rather uneasy and the nondescript beige the bots served up was the last thing he wanted. They were only machines but they did tend to take it personally when you declined.
“Are you sure Sir?” It asked again, a hint of desperation in it’s voice. “I have a quite delicious lobster bisque available today. Freshly prepared.”
“Is it beige?” Cole asked, knowing full well that it was. It was all beige. Always. This however was all the encouragement the machine required and it leapt into a detailed expose of both the nutritional and existential benefits of lobster bisque. As the bot continued to click-whir Cole quickly packed his flight suit into his rack and put on his orange service overalls. He pulled the belt tight about his waist and his black cap onto his head.
“No, really, I am fine. Thank you” he insisted as he headed for the exit to the hanger while the Nutri-Bot lurched into an explanation of the historical importance of lobster bisque in the pre-Martian war western culinary movement.
And then Cole stopped in his tracks abruptly . The Nutri-Bot ceased click-whirring and then fell silent also. Cole reconsidered his previous position and relegated the Nutri-Bot’s offer to second on his list of things he did not at all want. The last thing he wanted was stood directly in front of him, arms folded, and a face like a bulldog chewing a wasp.
“Hello Cole” snapped Fisher, a sneer creeping across her thin lips. Cole’s eyes were drawn to the stripes on her shoulder.
“Promoted I see” Said Cole.
“Cream rises to the top” said Fisher. She held out clip board in such a threateningly efficient way that it made Cole take a step backwards. “Com wants to see you now on the deck. Double time.”
Cole patted the Nutri-Bot on what was most likely it’s head as he passed through the hanger doors. “She looks hungry” he said smiling.
_____________________
Here are a few others from way back
https://afterwards.blog/2019/03/11/harvest-room-101/
https://afterwards.blog/2019/03/11/harvest-room-101/
https://afterwards.blog/2019/10/07/the-fizzled-enchantment-and-other-stories-of-ruin-room-101/
One about butt hair
A hirsuite young temptress from Dover
You would see each time she was bent over
Not only her thong
But butt hair, thick and log
Which she styled in a fancy comb over
Go on, treat yourself
An oft aroused lass from Aruba
Had a vagina shaped like a tuba
Should the wind blow just right
It would play silent night
And in bed there was no need to lube her.
A start of something perhaps…Just trying to get my juices flowign again
Michelle does a load of great prompts each month. I used to do a lot but less so now. Ill try get back into them I think. Theyre often just snippets of things and seldom more. This one is the glimmer of an idea I needed to get down on paper an like everything else I pretty much just share it whether done or not.
_________________________
Cole sat and stared into the blackness of space, his scout craft threading slowly between the twisted debris of the countless burnt out ships that orbited what remained of the Earth. The massive empty shells, once home to the last of the Earth’s forces, drifted silently, destroyed long ago in the endless wars now forgotten by all but those who clung to the stories of the past.
As a child, he remembered looking to the skies on warm summer evenings and recalled how, from the surface, there seemed to be so many stars, a vast swathe of pinpricks across the curtain of night, but up here, all he saw was the darkness.
The radio crakled into life. It was M. Unmistakably M.
“Hey Cole” she shouted, “you up there feeling all pensive and thinking abnout the darkness?”
Cole smiled and shook his head. She knew him too well. Not that he minded.
“I’ve picked up a deposit of Trilatium in a cruiser in quadrant six. I’m heading over there now.”
“So that’s a yes then” M replied, Cole could hear the smile in her voice.
“Affirmative” said Cole. He never quite knew what to say to her.
“Well you’ll be please to know Fisher wants all ships back Earth side asap so you can get your sweet arse back down here sharpish and stop contemplating the mysteries of the great abyss.”
“Copy that M, I’ll rendezvous with…”
“Sharpish Cole” M scolded, “no rendezvousing, no checking in, no gathering, assembling or fly-bying. Get yourself home now, there’s something going down and brass seem pretty shaken up. “
“Copy that” answered Cole adjusting his nav and tightening his harness. He wasn’t a big fan of re-entry, and these old scout ships has an unnerving ability to come to pieces if you pushed them too hard.
“Oh and Cole, pop by the canteen when you get back will you, you owe me a drink.”
“And why exactly is that?” Cole asked. He was pretty certain that he didn’t owe her anything at all.
M laughed. “God you’re a dense one aren’t you. You’re lucky you’re so damn pretty. Just do as I tell you Cole, I know what’s best for you. You trust me? Right?”
He steered the scout ship through the massive hull of a burnt out Martian destroyer, the blackened levels towering above him on both sides. Once home to thousands of Federation soldiers, now long dead, the place gave him the chills.
“See you Earth side M” Cole answered smiling. “Over and out.”
_____________________
Here are a few others from way back
https://afterwards.blog/2019/03/11/harvest-room-101/
https://afterwards.blog/2019/03/11/harvest-room-101/
https://afterwards.blog/2019/10/07/the-fizzled-enchantment-and-other-stories-of-ruin-room-101/
The latest edition to my 2000AD collection of stuff.
About a year ago I ordered myself this little beauty. I think it was for an anniversary or birthday or Christmas, I don’t really recall, and it was mnostly just an excuse because really I ordered it because I wanted it.
I am a huge 2000ad fan and have every one of the weekly comics(2175 and counting) as well as an assortment of tattoos, artwork and other paraphernalia all 2000ad related. My youngest is actually named after Judge Dredd – so you get my general level of obsession.
Below is my replica lawgiver, Dredd’s sidearm. Released by Planet Replicas following the death of legendary Dredd Artist and co-creator Carlos Ezquerra.
I had to wait a ridiculous long time for it because of Donald Trump – he was due to be imposing tariffs so they shipped all the US orders first. Cheers Donald, who would have thought he could go down in my estimation! Well worth the wait though. Cast in resin and hand finished it is a quite lovely replica and one that I cannot wait to get on display once my current building project eventually finishes.





You can get a peek here of some of the other stuff I have added about my love…
https://afterwards.blog/2018/09/02/2000ad-art-rogue-trooper-by-mike-collins/
https://afterwards.blog/2018/07/05/my-dredd-tattoo-2/
https://afterwards.blog/2018/07/07/my-other-dredd-tattoo/
https://afterwards.blog/2018/08/08/2000ad-art-dredd-and-the-dark-judges-david-bircham/
https://afterwards.blog/2018/07/22/2000ad-action-figure-judge-death/
https://afterwards.blog/2018/07/05/2000ad-script-t-b-grover-alan-grant-and-art-by-cliff-robinson/
Bet you’d forgotten about these two…I had…
The last year I have not been particularly active on my blog, but there was a time when I was prolific. Having more time on my hands has me returning a little more often and dusting off the ideas I had parked. Today I think I will revisit one of my favourite series of pieces and bring it up to date. You can see all the previous pieces at the links below. I think. It’s mostly just dirty poetry about a curvaceous couple having sex in space as I recall. I think I even did an audio poem version.
https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/31/fatties-in-space-not-one-for-the-kiddies/
https://afterwards.blog/2017/09/23/fatties-in-space-the-poem-not-for-kiddies/
https://afterwards.blog/2018/07/15/fatties-in-space-the-poem-audio/
https://afterwards.blog/2017/10/14/fatties-in-space-part-3-definitely-still-not-for-kiddies/
https://afterwards.blog/2018/07/28/fatties-in-space-part-4-the-poem-audio/
https://afterwards.blog/2019/01/14/fatties-in-space-part-5/
Bloody hell I did a lot of that didn’t I…
Anyway let us return to the present…
____________________________________
So some time has elasped and our couple content
watch tv, go for walks, quiet evenings are spent
with warm slippers, and tea and a nice box of chocs
Now she eats praline creams where she once ate his cock
And sweet caramel swirls feed his most basic cravings
Seems an eon since balls deep they were misbehaving
But we’ve all been there, right?
Grown complacent and settled
Since the humming bird sampled from soft pink sweet petals
Work gets in the way, rowdy kids take their toll
Rather just read a book where you once rode the pole
If efforts arent made then lusts embers can fade
Now you’re getting quite fat instead of getting laid
But seems things are afoot, it’s a changed situation
For our couple are now in enforced isolation
Social distancing worries have them safe at home
And for weeks now they’ve been pretty much all alone
And without the distraction and stresses and strains
And with time on their hands seems they start to refrain
From excuses and reasons not to both enjoy
The pleasures of flesh and fun toys to employ
Like the bike not forgotten theyre back on the horse
Shes not wuite as flexible, he’s breathless of course
But the thril of the bliss and the gratification
Oh the sweet benefits of this home isolation…
Not much happening anymore…stupid corona virus































It’s Friday. Why not.
A food fetish fan from Bermuda
Had a wife but he wanted one ruder
Who’d rub guac on his nips
Place asparagus tips
Deep inside him then smear him in gouda.
Blah blah Blah words
I scratched your name into these walls
Of discontent, and love’s betrayal
And red raw, blood drips, slowly pools
Reflected, crimson, stained teeth bared
Wild eyes, I see your laughing face
These knuckles white, your cackles sharp
Like razors cut, pink flesh, clean through
Skin, muscles, sinew, fat and bone
Spilled violently with no regard
Your words, dark deeds, most ill intent
Until a shadow’s all that’s left
Which fades as light tries to caress
’till dark returns scars to embrace
A warning to try on your jeans once a week
Self Isolating
Mere metres from the fridge
Unrelenting growth

One about leaking boobs
Breast feeding mum, Julie pickles
Had huge boobs but quite lopsided nipples
Left one gushed like a geyser
Gave her baby a seizure
But the right, rather small, only trickles
Just because…
Horny fellow who’s wife had Corona
Insisted she feast on his boner
How her cough made him jump
bit his cock off, a stump
is all thats remains of dick former
Okay so tenuous last line there…it si what it is…Perhaps too soon to be joking about such things but if you dont laugh sometimes you’ll end up losing your bloody mind.