The Diary of a Poker Playing Serial Killer

[the sicilian]

Hi

These Diary things seem so popular now I thought I'd join in... so much I'd like to get off my chest.. so here goes...

I go by the name Graham Wheldon. Of course that's not my real name, I met the real Graeme a few years back playing poker at the Vic on my first trip to London.
It was so exciting seeing the bright lights and all those people. Not like at home in the Fens....

I was sat next to him for ages and he told me he was something to do with the racing post and horses. I like horses, more so since i stopped ritually abusing them. Mr Arbuthnott two farms down started to get a bit pissed off and when he caned me with that holly branch I was cured.

Anyhow I decided Graeme would be my first. I liked his name, so much better than Alice. Mum always wanted a girl..sigh..
He actually lived in Cambridge just a hop skip and 14 wellington strides to my home in Graybury field.
So the deed was done and I assumed his life. Of course I had to give up most of his work with the racing post as I have absolutely no idea about one end of a horse from the other... LOL actually I do, but as I said I'm cured now.

I asked the racing post if I could stay on and do some write ups about Poker..I love Poker, more of which later... free of charge of course. They thought it was a bit odd of  but agreed in the end.

Actually I made a near fatal mistake because when they published my first article they had a picture of the real Graeme on the page...I mean he had hair and everything ! A lot of people noticed but I sent in a new picture of me to the racing post saying I'd lost my hair after falling off a Pony whilst trekking in Abergaveney.
Ha it worked and everything was OK again....

As I said before I love Poker... I don't know why as I am completely terrible at it... but it gives me a chance to make new friends. Its all very well talking to Kuko my mummified Border Collie but sometimes she can be so un-talkative..
So I joined a large casino in Luton and encountered loads of new and interesting victims people. My new found friends were very interested in me and I decided to continue with my Graeme persona. I even gave myself a nickname..Chompy... LOL its so ironic that they have no idea why i chose that name but its obviously to do with my ......hobby.

I told them I was a professional gambler on Betfair which impressed them greatly and was in keeping with my racing post background. Of course that's not what i really do. For money I buy and sell second hand sheep. You know the sort of thing buy ones at auction that are really woolly shear them down a bit put a bit of make up on them and resell them.. The boys down at the market love my pimped sheep.
This of course has additional benefits as I can use the shears sometimes for my hobby and on really cold nights they make excellent bed fellows.
My second was a Lithuanian backpacker who had got lost on his way to the social security office in Cambridge... no one missed him and he was great fun. I kept him for ages downstairs in my home made dungeon. Its great down there..i modelled it on a picture i found in a book called diaboliqu’e inquisitions. It has black walls with dirty water trickling down them, who would have thought the overflow from my annual bath would last so long, and those bolts i got from B&Q really hold those manacles i got on my Ann Summers account.

I had to get rid of him in the end though as he was always moaning.. I want something to drink..I want something to eat.. can i have some savlon for my arse...FFS it was constant whenever I took the gag out.
So there I am career wise.. I'm just like that guy of the telly, Dexter. No one even suspects.

So with the new year I took myself off to market and bought a new frame for the picture of my hero.. a guy they call the Sicilian. He is a poker playing God trained by the Lord Daniel himself. He is everything i wish to be. His spangly shirts are to die for. I even updated my wardrobe in his honour and bought myself a new top..I went conservative as I could never pull off spangly like he does.. also the dark colour conceals the blood.
Imagine how excited I was when he bought a car almost the same as mine... That was a night Kuko won't forget in a hurry !

I have other heroes too.. One called Celtic whose appetite is legend..lucky his not got a hobby like mine... there would be bodies strewn all over the home counties and he wears hoopy shirts like no other. So many of my friends have such great fashion sense.

Theres Claire as well, it was quite embarrassing when I first met her, the way her breasts kept staring at my eyes. I tell you she nearly turned me to the fairer side of humanity.. but as Kuko always said they can be trouble..

Well times getting on and its wash day, its the stripey jumpers turn today and I'm off to Stanley's to see if I can spot me a new dungeon dweller..

Toodles for now and hope to catch up soon

Graeme x

[GreekStein]

lol

[Chompy]

LOLZ and WTF! China_Mug has hacked your account Donks!

[TightEnd]

lol!!!


It's catching, diary fever!

[AlexMartin]

fking mental. funny, but disturbing. keep it up.

[Claw75]

do you take requests?

[boldie]

Very disturbing indeed.

This is a must read, just not right before going to bed

[RED-DOG]

 

[Delboy]

Very disturbing indeed.

This is a must read, just not right before going to bed

This

[Robert HM]

More!!

[luther101]

A truly factual account of life in St Neeyatchs      .....     

[the sicilian]

Wow... so many new friends all interested in little old me...

I think I've gone off a little half cocked ( my favourite dungeon game, but that's another story entirely) and come into the story half way through...
Perhaps we should start from  the beginning....

As I said i was born and bred in the Fens and had a great childhood..  I was the last of seventeen boys and my mum called me Alice.. To be fair she didn't have much choice, after all she had already used all the boys names listed in her Book of Boy Names. Actually it was a book of boy piglet names, I really felt sorry for my brothers Pancetta and Prime Danish Smoked..

We were all so happy in our housing association Barn. Mum and my seventeen brothers and Dad..well we called him dad but he was actually a Large Brown Shire called Mr Tabernacle. But Mum insisted they were married so who were we to argue.. Our barn had all the mod cons.. straw, troughs and corners for toilets.. We even got a grant for a door at some point.

However when I was nine a great tragedy befell our little family.. Myrtle our milking cow took a turn for the worst, went insane, broke through the gate at the bottom of nine hollows and ran straight out in front of a Nesquik lorry. It was a right bloody mess i can tell you but on the bright side it actually gave the company the idea for a new Raspberry flavour.

We didn't have any money and we all needed milk for our nightime bottles.. So Mum resorted to the standard Fens practice of Bartering. Mr Paul down yonder had a lovely new Frisian and in return  wanted a new young un’ to play ‘Captain Hooks Cabin Boy ‘ with. Apparently the last one had split..
As I was youngest I was traded to Mr Paul for the new Frisian. He wasn't that impressed actually as he wanted a boy and not someone dressed in a blue and white pinafore with matching bonnet. But Mum threw in a Hamster and half hundred weight of Mr Tabernacles dung for his roses and he was as happy as Larry.

This was when my life really began... Mr Fenland Paul was a kindly old gent with a wizened face, Brylcreamed hair and he wore lots of gold rings. He also wore these little horn rimmed glasses ( the same pair I wear now in fact.. prised from his death grip moments after he wheezed his last . Actually I haven't strangled anyone since, he made a bloody awful noise all that gurgling and his face went such a funny colour ). Yes I know I said Graeme was my first but I don't include family members, adoptive fathers or anyone under thirty called Mark....er.. and Barry..and Sergio.

Anyway Myself and Mr Paul had a great time, fortunately he wasn't very big and after the first few times I wasn't sore at all. He also sent me to my first school.
There were a hundred and fourteen in my class and we had one teacher Miss GrimDyke. I'm sure that was her name as that was what her large lady friend used to call her. She used to take all our classes and taught us all the essential skills we would need in the big wide world.
My favourites were ‘Bovine artificial insemination class’ and ‘Slaughtering Halal style for beginners’. When we weren't doing practicals we would read our books, my favourites were entitled ‘Marrying your Sister’ and ‘ Does your offspring qualify for the Circus ‘.

Miss GrimDyke would let us read for hours whilst she hooked one leg up on the table and platted the long hairs that poked out the side of her  knickers.
At break time we would do cock fighting.. i got pretty good at it over the years although sometimes I would go home with sore testicles where the bigger boys got carried away and I couldn't play with Mr Paul, especially his favourite Scoutmaster Doubles..

My is that the time...iv'e such a lot to attend to.... iv'e got a new Eastern Europeon downstairs who iv'e starved for eleven days..he should just about be weak enough.

Next time my teenage years


Toodles for now.....

Graeme x

[boldie]

[RED-DOG]

 

[GreekStein]