Pied Piper! Billie about to get it in the face

As you may well have noticed with posts on our forum and UMD plus several appearances by the lady herself on chat shows, Billie Piper is about to get sploshed in her ITV 2 series Secret Diary of a Call Girl. As we have recounted earlier, we had a lot of say in this scene pointing out just how sploshing works (no little dabs of cream, big pies, knicker filling, cake sitting etc) and we look forward to seeing how many make it into the show…

Pantie-monium. Her 'client' knows want he wants

We know from the trailer there is a half decent pie thrown in Billie’s face and the stills show some evidence of a big bowl of beans going down her all-too-tiny panties, so it seems promising. In her chat appearances including Friday Night with Jonathan Ross and This Morning (with one-time Saturday morning messy goddess Holly Willoughby) Billie has being saying what a fun time she had doing the scene and the real Belle de Jour (the call girl in the title) has said she has indulged herself  sploshing ‘recreationally’. So one way or another our favourite subject is getting quite a bit of welcome publicity.

Golden Heinz. Billie about to feel full of beans

One bit of publicity we are not so sure is welcome is Billie’s insistance that sploshing is all based in Hastings (it’s a bit bigger than that!). We look forward to hearing from the council on that! Perhaps they will change the signs from Hastings 1066 Country to Hastings Splosh! Country though I doubt it. I was also amused that on Jonathan Ross she claimed to have attended a Splosh! convention in Hastings to find out more about it. As regular readers here know, actually we went to a meeting in a very sober office in London with the writers and producers. They (and certainly not Billie) didn’t come down here to join in sadly.

It does mean that I can boast something I would never have imagined – that Billie Piper has lied about meeting me! Had it been the other way round, I doubt anyone would be surprised at all!

Related posts:

1. Munch on This!
2. Our Messiest Private Session Yet!
3. The Nearest Thing to Tiswas Live!

2) The Travelodge is convenient for both the railway and the venue. A bit too convenient for the former you might argue – this was the view from my hotel room window…

It is also very handy for the bus station. I was pleased to see that Warrington has its own fleet of ‘corporation buses’ rather than selling out to Arriva or Stagecoach like so many. These bear the logo “Warrington Borough Council – Making Warrington Move”. What – House? Their bowels?
3) Travelodges great for the health conscious! They are fine for one or two nights but a big step down from a Premier Inn. For a start they have absolutely no catering facilities or bar on the premises. So instead of gorging on the “All you can eat” £7 breakfast as I did in Bristol for their Splunch, in Warrington I had to make do with a tiny parcel dropped outside my door at 7am. Once opened this revealed a tea bag and paper cup, a small bottle of orange juice, a Nutragrain bar and a pot of cereal so small it came with a folding spoon! This cost an extortionate £4.50.

Don’t buy it! There’s a good cafe that does full English just down the road.
4) The Munch is held in the excellent Blue Bell pub in the pedestrian part of the town. Actually most of the town is pedestrianised cos Warrington has been “planned”. Cycle tracks and pedestrian crossings are everywhere which makes it very pleasant to walk around, but a nightmare to park in (I’m told). The pub is handily placed next to a ‘performing’ fountain however woe-betide any drinkers who venture

near it with a glass in their hand. A large mis-spelt and unpunctuated sign in the pub (neatly corrected by a customer in biro) warn that any customer “taking their drinks near the fountain will have them taken away”. I can’t imagine what might have happened in the past can you? Closet sploshers are everywhere.
5) Warrington is a town that has its priorities right. Ten yards from the pub is a massive double fronted shoe shop called Funky Dory selling fetishy high heels and seemingly thriving. Two doors along there is a Starbucks that has closed down! Thank God Hayley wasn’t with me, we would never have got past the window display without melting her plastic.

6) The atmosphere at the Warrington Splunch is very relaxed and casual. Claymore Wam and Muckypup who are the veteran organisers of it (no implication about age there, chaps) are nonetheless quite new to the world of munches so almost as nervous as you probably will be. Nonetheless Claymore is not short of things to say…he is an expert on just about everything from British comedy to postcodes, not to mention TV testcards (I said, not to mention TV testcards!). So don’t worry about being nerdy. You’ll feel right at home!
Not that everyone there was a pub trivia fan. Muckypup is refreshingly down to earth (and handy for derailing conversation that get too orientated towards steam trains) and there were other guests to keep everyone entertained. Carmen Fantastic, a beautiful brunette submissive from Liverpool and her partner Gentleman Bastard (who was much more the former than the latter) have been performing in their local fetish club for some time and clearly love sploshing. Rhoobarb’s whose custard-covered boobs have graced the forum many times came all the way from Scotland and it was good to see them in the flesh along with her man. Then there was Ghostrider from Newcastle who seemed emminently sensible for a man with a lot of Guinness inside him. All very, very pleasant people to talk to, so you really should come along. I think they have all forgiven me for talking too much.
7) Don’t worry if you’re shy – everyone is! Because a lot of Splunches now have photos of many of the people there it is easy to get the idea that everyone is now totally ‘out’ about their love of sploshing and wants to share it with the world. Not so. When I suggested a group picture in Warrington, adding that anyone who didn’t want to be in it should move out of the way, all but two people moved! As I result, I settled for this shot instead!

There’s a lot of self-congratulation and back slapping by munching members and organisers these days and new people might get the impression that if they attend an event they will find themselves exposed. Nothing is further from the truth. Claymore Wam won’t appear in pictures and he organises it! So don’t let that stop you! The locals are friendly. Everyone I met in Warrington was very easy going and I hardly felt like a namby-pamby southern poof at all. The night receptionist didn’t take the piss when I came in slightly drunk, and the girl on during the day gave me a fascinating description into her day trip to Wembley to see JLS, Alexandra Burke and other X Factoristas perform for the Girl Guides. The waiter at Mojos restaurant even forgave our rubbish attempt at ordering Tapas which resulted in several different plates of meatballs and not much else. He hardly giggled at all.
9) Virgin Trains aren’t THAT bad. My journey back by tilting Pendolino train was not only non-stop from Warrington all the way to Euston but arrived 10 minutes early. “We apologise for the inconvenience caused..” said the announcer but I think he was taking the piss. Over 175 miles in 1hr 45mins – that’s an average of over 100mph. And no the tilting mechanism doesn’t make you feel sick. Actually watching the scenery suddenly tilting towards you is almost exactly like being pissed.
10) It makes you want to do it all again NOW! So many things I meant to say, even more I meant not to say. Too much talk about the Two Ronnies, not enough asking about what people wanted from us. I wish I could go back and do it again. Unfortunately the next one isn’t until April 17th. Surely somebody can organise another meet in the north of England before then. I hope so.

No related posts.

Naturally, being a train fan I managed to pick a route that made the journey as tedious as possible! I found the one train a day that winds its way from Brighton to Cardiff (via Bristol) stopping at just about anywhere with a discernable pulse. Armed with some overpriced sandwiches from Brighton Station, I squeezed on board the tiny train for the near four-hour journey. Now as I said, this train (catering for early rush hour in Brighton, late rush hour in Southampton, then early revellers in Bath and Bristol) stopped EVERYWHERE and the female conductor guard was obliged to announce every station it stopped at, every time it stopped. So in order to fit this between stations the poor woman rushed through the list so quickly it sounded more like a Welsh place name than a route. Then to add to her woes (and ours!) the only two toilets on the train broke so she was being constantly harrassed by men, women and children desperate for a wee making her even more fraught. Not her best day at work, I was thinking. Thankfully, my bladder didn’t fill till the train emptied at Bristol. Three cheers for a 50-year-old prostate!

After a short trip with the world’s most miserable cabby (“There’s nothing going on here, mate! No students, no money. Waste of my bleeding time” he said of the city hosting a Banksy exhibition that had completely packed every hotel). I arrived at the fabulously glamourous Premier Inn in Haymarket. Now I could do lots of cheap hotel jokes but frankly the Premier was fine. The room was perfectly good, the shower excellent, and the TV had Freeview (a luxury unknown on our bit of the South Coast). Best of all as I discovered reading the endless bumph they clutter every flat surface with, it had an “All You Can Eat” Breakfast which didn’t finish till 11am! Now that’s the sort of challenge I’m prepared to get up early for! By mid-day I had worked my way through the fruit juice, Honey Nut Corn Flakes, eggs, bacon, sausages, tomato, mushrooms, tea and toast and was set up for a day on the piss with Mike and the sploshers.
Just time first for a quick pint before setting off – and the start of what became a running theme for the weekend. At 1pm the bar of my hotel was packed with pissed-up Welsh women wearing very little except feathers and bunny ears on a hen party. As I had to squeeze past the excitable rabble who were posing for pictures, I offered to take their shot so they could all be in it. Much giggling was followed by the offer of a chance for me to appear in a pic with the bride to be in green tutu and L plates (her not me!). More Welsh laughter. This was merely the start. By the end of the night, it seemed just about everyone in Bristol was either on a hen or stag night and in fancy dress! The streets were packed with hysterical women (often Welsh) dressed as naughty nurses and policewomen. Latert as we sat drinking, Darth Vadar rode past on a pushbike (it seems even the Death Star has gone green!). I felt decidedly underdressed!

Horts Bar in Bristol was the venue Mike had chosen and it is ideal for these sort of meets. It is big enough to cater for a meeting of 20 people without them even noticing. In fact the toilets were further away than the hotel! Mike and Sammy-Jane were in the corner when I arrived and soon after people were turning up from all over the country, many of whom I hadn’t met or hadn’t seen for years (15 in Andy’s case). As forum members will know they are real ‘characters’. For instance, freed of his keyboard and surreal spelling Andy123 talks so quickly and continuously that it is best to treat him like a radio playing in the background – dipping in and out of listening when something interesting arises. However don’t expect to contribute. If you want to join in or express an opinion it is probably best to send him a text.

Mike Nomic by contrast opts for the Grumpy Git persona, especially towards people who don’t drink real ale (at one point he even suggested a meet purely for people who drink proper beer). Whilst Andy’s conversation is a war of attrition, Mike goes for the sudden explosion – a deafening Bristol bellow that rings round the room. So if you go, don’t be surprised to find your quiet conversation suddenly interrupted by a West Country Brian Blessed yell of ‘WEASEL PISS!” if he spots you’ve opted to drink Fosters.

On the professional front, Andy brought his workmate Jammed whose lovable dumb puppy looks hide the fact that he is really a sharp-brained businessman. No, I’m lying. This was a man who accidentally locked into his own toilet for 45 minutes that morning. Eden and Jon, fresh from their Canadian adventures, provided some much needed youth and glamour, and Janet and Nick (who appear on our Mad Macs pages) popped along too representing the more mature messy modelling scene. If you sometimes feel you’re alone, Nick’s your man. He knows all about being part of an oppressed minority – he was a fan of John Major. And Dirtydids popped in to despite a run of poor health. It was good to see him on his feet again and still determined to take pictures when he can.
Richard and Sploshman are almost professionals in the number of sessions they have done on the forum and it was good to meet Richard for the first time. He is far more jolly in real life, nothing like Victor Meldrew at all, and Sploshman is just too cool for words. Rich D Rich had travelled in all the way from New Zealand. I hope he had toilets! PleasePieMeMistress, Aufpet, Gungemegood. Bondageboiir and Thrillseeker completed the line-up of guys I hadn’t met – and one or two were very complimentary about our stuff which made the trip worthwhile. I was nearly as excited as when a beautifully restored Bristol Lodekka open topped bus (circa 1963) from Minehead went past full of yet more waving women on a hen party. Naturally we all waved back. Then I watched the pub people’s faces change as they realised I was weird enough to be more interested in the bus!

At about 7pm, we left the pub full of real ale and ‘weasel piss’ (what is it about weasels along with gnats that gives them such famously bland-tasting urine? And how does anyone know?) to go to an Italian restaurant I can’t remember the name of. Inside, guess what? Another party of women, this time with Mickey Mouse ears, rather surprised to be gazumped by our larger and frankly more unruly group. The alcohol had worked its wicked magic and so the conversation became increasingly bizarre. Eden told a restaurant silencing story about finding a human turd on an Underground train which led to speculation whether it was better to shit yourself or take your trousers down and defecate in full view of the passengers. The Mickey Mouse Club looked a little perturbed at this, especially when I did my impression of the station tannoy announcing “MIND THE CRAP! MIND THE CRAP!” It was then that Darth Vadar cycled past. No, he did. Honest! I wasn’t the only one who saw him…
Paranoid about being lost in a strange city somewhat pissed, I then called a cab to go about five yards to my hotel. As ever I rushed out not saying goodbye to enough people or thanking them for an excellent day. Thank you all. Got back to the hotel just in time for a cheap double scotch. Sadly no sign of the Welsh women…
…Until the next morning! As I drifted down to breakfast, the Welsh ladies were checking out. Their numbers had swollen by two inflatable men which the bride carried with her suitcase as if it was the latest Louis Vitton accessory. After (a rather smaller) breakfast, I too signed out and shared a cab to the station with a couple who had travelled all the way from Bolton to see the Banksy exhibition only to be told their was a six hour queue to get in. So they went on a boat trip instead. I asked if they were tempted to spray something rude on the wall of the gallery. They smiled weakly. My timing’s shit when I’m hungover.
Back on the train and First Great Western came good. Dead on time all the way with a choice of toilets and a totally comprehesible guard. Fortunately there was some entertainment… Two seats along was a very posh family trying to keep their children entertained by each of them picking animals beginning with a certain letter and letting the others guess what it was. Finally it was the 7-year-old boy’s turn. “I am an animal beginning with E,” he said proudly. The others started guessing. Elephant, emu, eagle…everything they suggested met with a no. Finally the exhausted family gave up. “OK what are you?” asked the mother wearily.”For heavens sake, Mummy, it’s easy. I’m an echidna!” A surreal end to a surreal three days.
Thanks for letting me be there.

Related posts:

1. Ten Good Reasons to Go to the Warrington Splunch
2. Playing with our Dolly
3. PJs and Dunking!

Related posts:

1. Top Ten Sploshing Foods
2. Back Again!
3. PVC in the Pub

Not only that, but you can chat and share your experiences & photos with fellow sploshers at our fun, friendly forum – or find out what we’ve been up complete with behind-the-scenes stories at our Soggy Blog.

We want you to have as much mucky fun as we do, so jump in and join me in a world where the custard is always warm and a big wet pie in the face is the only way to say “I love you”!

Come on, guys & girlies! You know you want to. Let me have it!

Big Squishy Kisses

Maid Hayley x x x

Related posts:

1. Blogging a Dead Horse?
2. Back Again!
3. Clown Julie’s Bank Holiday Slosh Fest!

a bucket of chocolate over her head and frankly made a mess of the entire rescue! This sparks a tit-for-tat food fight with both girls ending up topless and nicely covered in sweet stuff. Because the TV

crew wanted it adlib (though I also had to been seen directing) the sketch is somewhat more frenetic than usual with food flying everywhere including a vicious pint of cream thrown in Dolly’s face by the oh-so-gentle Katie.It also includes a very sexy bit of cake sitting by Katie (into a large strawberry and cream gateau) whilst Dolly has to settle for her cake being pushed down the inside of her tights!

The crew came away delighted with what they had seen and the attitude of the girls – who hadn’t stopped laughing all the way through. David the director said, “I didn’t think it would be as funny as this! I’m very pleased.” He then interviewed me and was probably less pleased as I rambled on for hours about the joys of sploshing. Well, they wanted me to sound “proud”.

The hardest part for me (no innuendo, please) was their insistence on doing some ‘profile shots’. These were moody bits where each of us had to stand staring straight into the camera for about two minutes, not moving or saying anything. For once I appreciated how hard conventional modelling is! My mind kept drifting and I’d start to look away. It wasn’t helped by the fact that some of these shots were done on the beach in a howling gale with a group of local builders cheering us on – well, cheering Katie and Dolly on. The girls managed to concentrate fine. I was the problem. Still it got done.

Like I say by the time the girls had got showered and I’d done my interview, we were all tired but buzzing. Time for a drink (for Dolly and me, at least!). But first as we said goodbye, we asked David what he was working on next.
“I’m on holiday for a fortnight, then I start work on Dancing on Ice with Holly Willoughby,” he replied.
Suddenly my befuddled brain (and maybe a few parts lower down) woke up.
“Really?” I said. “You know she is a bit of a sploshing icon – getting gunged most weeks on Ministry of Mayhem and pied dressed as a french maid?”
“No, I didn’t!” David laughed. “I’ll tell her!”
Perhaps she’ll join the forum!
(Many more pictures from this film will be on the forum shortly.)

Related posts:

1. Playing with our Dolly
2. CC meets DD in Sploshworld
3. Make Cutie Katie the Queen of FHM!

Although Dolly is a regular visitor to the Splosh! studios – not to mention our local pub (the local B&B owner telling us ’she is quite often a bit hungover in the mornings!”) this was Candy Custard’s first time here, and only her second professional shoot. Rather surprisingly, she liked Hastings rating it above her native Hinkley on the grounds that “it has the sea and Debenhams”. So it follows that she was keen to enjoy the full seaside experience. The sun was out, for once, so the top heavy twosome went for a walk on the beach to admire the front – something that happens to them all the time! Despite being chilly they had to have ice creams and even a paddle


before hitting some of Hastings top designer shops (like the local angling emporium cos they liked the name,

and Substance, a shop that sells a combination of ’smoking requisites’ and sex aids so is known locally as the Dong & Bong). Then full of rubbish seaside food they came to the studio to play with a lot more!
We managed to shoot two films with them. The first was based on the famous old song Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better, with the girls boasting abut just how messy or rude they could be and trying to outdo each other. A lot of pies, eggs, custard, chocolate sauce, cake mix and treacle covered every inch of their spectacular curves and by the end – at absolutely no insistance from me – they were kissing and licking each other’s tits, fondling their own and their opponent’s fannies and getting stuck into some serious mucky minge munching. The breathing made it obvious to even the most cynical splosh film maker that these girls were doing it for real and loving what they were getting up to. Anything You Can Do will be a download on this site soon, but before then we will be running stills from it to let you know what a horny time you are in for.
The second movie was for Gilly’s Silly House (www.gillysillyhouse.com) and should be available for members to download this weekend. It’s a two part adventure starring DD in her famous Alice role and Candy as the Queen of Hearts. Just as the story goes, she had made some tarts and it isn’t long before the dumplinged duo are indulging in a tit-for-tat pie fight washed down with plenty of custard.



That will be Part One which will be at the Silly House this weekend – look out for more pictures from it on the Forum then.
But in Part Two the action gets a lot hotter as the chocolate, cake mix and treacle come out. Again with no direction from me our girls were plunging their faces between each other’s enormous knockers, playing with each other’s sticky pussies and taking it in turns to bury their heads between their new mucker’s thighs! It is very steamy stuff as these shots show. More to follow on the Forum next week.


Again, the breathing gives away just how genuine all this is. These girls are both REAL SPLOSHERS.
Finally we hit the pub, and still fired by adrenalin and in the girls’ cases a lot of sexual energy the drink flowed. In Candy’s case it was in the form of double vodka and cokes whilst Dolly and I stuck to a more moderate singles knowing we weren’t going anywhere for a long while. Thanks to the rate they were going down, the money being pumped into the juke box to keep the cheesy music going and the boss being away, Shane (our favourite barman) kept us locked in till after 4am! By this time the girls had entertained local pissheads like Masonic Jim and John the Alice Cooper fan and been approached by an over amorous gentleman from the Czech republic. Spotting Candy’s considerable cuddle buckets, he came over and said, “I luurrvvve your cleave-arge. Please be my partner!” When she turned him down (and we asked him to talk to someone else) he muttered something about us all being racists and disappeared forgotten into the night.
Less easily forgotten is the moment we left Candy alone with Jason our local garage proprietor. Dolly and I were chatting at the bar when we turned round and saw she was giving him a pole dancing demo! Then, just to prove what he had learned, Jason returned the compliment, stripping off his shirt and dancing for her! Well, it was 3am by then!
At 4.30, even Shane had had enough of our antics and I dropped CC and DD at the B&B where amazingly they made it up for breakfast at 8.30 (I didn’t even make lunch!). However, their Full Englishes went pretty well untouched…
“You didn’t do very well, did you?” said Pat the owner.
How wrong you are, Pat. They did VERY WELL and when all of you see the Silly House videos and the Splosh! one later on, you’ll be bound to agree. Meanwhile, I’m off to a rest home to recover.

Related posts:

1. Playing with our Dolly
2. Clown Julie’s Bank Holiday Slosh Fest!
3. Virgin on the Ridiculous

1974-1977: At college in Birmingham doing a degree in what would now be called Media Studies. Wanted to be a proper broadcaster! Was said to be good at radio and even TV presenting – despite looking rubbish. Still a reasonable talker as the poor bastards who have had to interview know only too well!
1978: Fuck all. Was on the dole in Aston, Handsworth and Harborne waiting for big offer from the BBC (was applying for loads of jobs there). Not a bloody sausage.
1979: Started freelancing for local magazines including a day spent as a professional clown at Wolverhampton Fiesta (as dull as it sounds) with Ben Lester – a wonderfully cynical ex-circus man. Started local news and features magazine for Henley-in-Arden called Henley Digest with a crook called Eric Beaman who ran off with all the money. Wrote reviews for local Whats On magazines. Did voice-over work for BRMB and Beacon Radio. Lived on packet soup.
1981 – 1990: Got job at last! Chief Sub Editor at Mayfair magazine (I applied for that and Feature Writer for HiFi News – convinced I had no hope at Mayfair and was a shoe-in on the latter. How different things might have been!). Moved to London. Three months later they tried to sack me cos I was a rubbish sub. However I was by far their best writer so they kept me on doing that. After many years, rose to giddy heights of Assistant Editor. Had to run the magazine cos the Editor was always out on the piss. There are numerous stories of in-jokes and gags we used to put in the mag at that time, but they may have to wait until the ex-Editor dies!
1984: Started freelancing for other magazines and television. Wrote for loads of magazines and most of the soft porn titles under numerous different names. Had regular monthly features in Penthouse and Club whilst still member of staff for Mayfair. Also wrote humour for Fiesta etc. Produced one-shot magazines for Dennis Publishing on Page Three girls which became a monthly magazine called Daily Girls. These featured photo stories not unlike the ones in Splosh! though without the mess. Also wrote for respectable magazine like Saga – I was their Nostalgia Expert at 28! Wrote sketches for TV (including the Two Ronnies stuff) and material for radio presenters, local and national. Wrote a show for and appeared in pub cabaret which played in unsuitable pubs and clubs in London before ‘alternative comedy’ kicked off. Did bad David Bellamy impressions amongst other things. Compiled Lie Back & Think of Britain rubbish joke book available in Ann Summers even now. Never went out. Just worked. Had no life at all, but some money at last…
1989: Started Splosh! when Daily Girls was axed (Dennis made more money out of zines about Kylie) but saw it had a small but loyal readership who liked it sexy but not porno. Thought something funny like that would be fun to do and had the money to give it a go. Interviewed guys at Viz who told me how they started. Nicked their ideas. Had seen Wet Shots stuff and liked it, thought this could be the perfect subject – sexy, funny and an excuse to take the piss out of porn and fetish whilst still being sexy and kinky (Viz style). Was helped by a big haired blonde advertising assistant called Hayley who was leaving Mayfair to have a baby.
1990: Left Mayfair and went full-time freelance. Did shifts for Mayfair and Paul Raymond where initially I was drafted in to write the funny front pages for Club International (I had been writing Nathaniel Fatbastard – a restaurant review piss-take and other characters for years). The staff then realised I had all the fun whist they did the dull stuff, so I got given the dull stuff instead (writing girl copy and so on). Started working for Razzle where I wrote most of the copy, came up with ideas for romps and photo sets and ‘played’ such erudite columnists as Bendy Wendy, Cock-Thirsty Kirsty and Dr Deforest Hill (the struck off sex therapist). Still writing for other mags as well including much more pompous funnies for Mayfair!
1991 Mayfair sold to Paul Raymond! Initially I was going to run it but they didn’t like my ideas as they were too “old Mayfair” (they wanted to sex it up). So I carried on doing Razzle and so on cos nobody else liked it (no kudos in writing messy filth, they reckoned! Oh no?).
Produced my first WAM video, Pretty Clumsy Woman (though I had written sketches and linking material for WSM before that – even appearing occasionally). Wanted mine to be cheap and fun rather than 40 quid like the other titles were at the time. Thought it would sell about 200 copies. Went on to produce the other early Buff titles in a similar form. They later made into High St shops like HMV and sold very well for specialist titles.
1992: Moved to St Leonards cos we needed more space. Hayley now a bit more than a colleague! Promptly fell ill and wound up in hospital with blood poisoning after a stomach abscess leaked and nearly killed me. Still working too hard but slowly coming to my senses…
1996: Sacked by Paul Raymond! They made some excuse as to why but really it was cos I was too expensive and they wanted everything cheap now, and not worried about funny any more. So fuck them! Watched all of Euro 96 then devoted most of my time to Splosh! and slowly became less stressed and had more fun.
1996 – Present: Still write for other magazines occasionally. Do bits for radio (including writing a DAILY topical three minute funny for Radio 2) for 18 months. Package items for telly – mainly about Splosh!. Get interviewed about Splosh! occasionally. Went through phase when we were on satellite TV every couple of weeks! (another looonnng story). Took over Gilly’s Silly House in 2003 when original owner ran out of ideas and quit. Been shooting something for them every week since. Hayley (kids now grown up) went back to work and inherited a house from her parents so lived there. We decided to see each other “only when it was fun” rather than have a full time relationship which sort of works. Splosh! forum set up in March 2006 and been quite successful as a fun place to chat with likeminded sploshers. It is the first stage of turning the website into something with the same fun atmosphere as the magazine with downloads and DVDs instead of photo-features.
Still working a lot, thanks largely to GSH, and desperate for more time to spend on Splosh! Now have no money!

Related posts:

1. Splosh! Greatest Hits DL Store NOW OPEN
2. Playing with our Dolly
3. French Maid Hayley at Your Service

Following one or two requests on the the Forum, here is the complete article. Hope you like it. Apologies for the occasional bit of bad language but it’s what these magazines expect!
Top Ten Foods for Sploshing
by Bill Shipton of www.splosh.co.uk
the world’s leading messy sex site!
1) Custard: The first rule of seductive sploshing is “sweet not savoury”, and with its creamy consistency, custard is the ideal love lube. Ready-made Ambrosia (about £1.40 a litre) is the Top of the Slops, afterall you don’t want to be boiling milk with a hard-on…
2) Cream: The spray stuff is perfect for sensuous splosh-lite activity. Ideal decoration for nipples and nobs, just don’t turn your cock into an organic Everest and expect your partner to go down in one. She’s more likely to chuck than swallow. Anchor do a good one (know as Wanchor in the trade cos so many stag girls use it for hand jobs!)
3) Chocolate: Good in all its forms. Gooey newbies should stick to the syrup like Treat (99p in supermarkets) whilst chocoholics should opt for big bags of chocolate sponge mix (from Cash & Carries). Made with warm water, it’s liquid chocolate cake and about £7 a bucketful – more than enough to cover two!
4) Porridge: Most women like to start the day with something hot inside them – or, in this case, outside them. The grey gruel may not look sexy but well mixed, warm and lump-free, it has set many a non-Scot sighing. And it’s an excellent exfoliant! Novice sploshers might like to start with Reddy Brek – it’s smoother and saucepan-free.
5) Eggs: Get your guy hard in three minutes by sliding around in slippery raw egg. Just keep those shells away from your tender bits – they are sharper than shattered glass.
6) Jam/pie filling/peanut butter: I do love things that spread easily – like legs. Just pick a favourite flavour and butter your partner up like a butty. Beware of some blackcurrant ones. They contain blue food dye, so your next sticky moment could be waking up next to a Smurf.
7) Syrup/fruit sauce/treacle: The syrups in the supermarket (strawberry, raspberry, toffee etc) are excellent splosh starter packs. Move on to the maple or big tins of golden syrup next, then when you are really brave invest in a gallon drum of black treacle. It’s like liquid rubber completely enclosing the body in thick black stickiness. To misquote the Marks ad, this isn’t just food – it’s S&M food! Baked beans/spaghetti: Beloved by closet sploshers on charity days, beans are more funny than fruity, and most women can’t stand the smell. Understandable. Would you want to wake up whiffing like greasy spoon leftovers?
9) Rice pudding/semolina: Those whose memories of school meals go back before turkey twizzlers have a nostalgic fondness for a milky pud. Bizarrely, warmed up in the confines of her kecks (or yours), they feel a lot better than they taste.
10) Pies/cream cakes/gateaux: Whether for sitting in or flinging in the face, these are a splosh staple! Make your own missiles from sponge flan cases and custard (or Angel Delight) for a fuck-friendly food fight, or defrost a big Black Forest, strip off and slowly sit in it as a prelude to a long night licking and sucking. Now that’s what I call afters…
The runners up: When I asked the members of the Splosh! Forum at www.splosh.co.uk to nominate their favourites, they came up with 54 different ones in a day! Amongst the also rans were…vegetable soup, mushy peas, marshmallow fluff, fish paste, macaroni cheese, and mashed potato and gravy (combined). Yum!

Related posts:

1. Playing with our Dolly
2. Virgin on the Ridiculous
3. CC meets DD in Sploshworld

Related posts:

1. Blogging a Dead Horse?
2. PVC in the Pub