The Sexual Deviances of the Celebrity Class, Or: Paul is Still Dead, and Very Kinky (An “Out Where the Buses Don’t Run” Excerpt!)

First, some more news and updates on Out Where the Buses Don’t Run, my new book:

Right now, Out Where the Buses Don’t Run is finally available on Amazon and Smashwords! To help promote the release of this book, I’m offering the paperback version on Amazon at a 15% discount! Purchase your copy of the book on Amazon, then use the discount code “LF8VFP9A” upon check-out.

Want a FREE eBook version? Get your copy of Out Where the Buses Don’t Run over at Smashwords, and download your free copy. Use the code “TC67H” to download your copy.

Finally, head on over to Goodreads, and enter to win a copy of the book. I’m giving away five copies. If you’ve entered, thanks and good luck! If you haven’t, well, then, what are you waiting for???

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Alright, so I promised you a sneak peak of the book. Here’s an excerpt from the book, an essay which I think you’ll enjoy. So much you’ll immediately buy the book after reading it. I guarantee it.

Wow, that was cocky.

 

THE SEXUAL DEVIANCES OF THE CELEBRITY CLASS, OR: PAUL IS STILL DEAD, AND VERY KINKY

  

February 12, 2007

  

Celebrities are some sick, twisted, depraved individuals. Their fame and fortune gives them free license to act upon their worst deviant impulses. I suppose it’s their inability to cope with the sudden financial windfall. Or perhaps it’s the freedom to pursue deviancy now that you have an open checkbook, and no one to say “no” to you. Whatever the case may be, whether it’s Paris Hilton lazily having blurry sex in front of a night-visioned camera, or George Michael flashing his peepee to an undercover cop in a public restroom, celebrities are perverts, deep down inside. Their fame and wealth makes it difficult for them to cope with these hideous deviancies.

Sadly, another famous celebrity has been exposed for the pervert he is. Sadly, that sicko sex fiend is none other than Paul McCartney.

That’s right. Paul McCartney. Sir Paul McCartney. The Cute Beatle.

In notes and depositions leaked from Sir Paul’s nasty divorce from his estranged wife, Heather Mills McCartney, Paul is alleged by Heather Mills to possess a fetish for acrotomophilia – sex with amputees. This fetish was further fueled by Ms. Mills, who, as a result of a freak automotive accident, is an amputee; her left leg was amputated below the knee.

Key word here is “alleged.”

It seems Sir Paul could never bring himself to full explore his acrotomophilia. After all, he’s Paul fucking McCartney; it’s not as if he call roll up in his Bentley and troll for legless hookers prying their trade on the Mersey. Someone would notice. “Ooh, lookit, init Paul McCartney? Wot’s he doin’ wit that legless bird?” McCartney’s massive fame and fortune, his ubiquity, his familiarity, and his first marriage to Linda Eastman McCartney all but conspired to keep him from this fetish that lurked inside him.

Linda, apparently, did not approve of his fetish. According to the leaked notes, Linda freaked out one afternoon, during the recording of Wings at the Speed of Sound; Paul had suddenly taken a fancy to bandmate Denny Laine’s sister, Camilla, who was hanging out in the studio, who also happened to be wearing a prosthetic arm. When confronted by this, Paul acknowledged his acrotomophilia, and sought to make amends with Linda. The result – “Silly Little Love Songs,” which was originally titled “Dear Linda, I’d Love You Better If You Were Missing a Leg.”

The marriage of Paul and Heather, was, according to a source close to both divorce litigants, was a marriage of convenience. Heather wanted to be nothing more than a gold-digging, washed-up model with some phony “charitable organization” (i.e., her work with eradicating land mines – shades of Princess Diana!); Paul wanted a younger, hotter woman to be his wife and to allow him to indulge in his amputee sex fetish.

In an attempt to get her filthy, grubby little hands on Macca’s Billions, Heather would attempt a seduction of her much-older husband, usually involving some frilly negligée. If this didn’t work, and it usually didn’t, considering Paul was, for the most part, locked in his music room and dreaming up more crappy post-Beatles tunes to write and perform, Heather would erotically tease him with her prosthetic leg, usually brushing it up against Sir Paul’s face and crotch. This would get him in the mood, and he’d fuck her so silly, he fucked her freckles off on several instances.

Mills’ insidious plot involved fucking the ex-Beatle to death, literally, in the hopes of inducing a heart attack and causing him to die…and therefore automatically naming her the primary beneficiary of his will and estate. This was never to be, as she neglected to remember one crucial caveat: the real Paul McCartney is dead. The fake Paul McCartney she was trying to murder sexually is really an impostor named William Shears Campbell, who bore a stunning resemblance to the late Paul McCartney. To further protect the McCartney estate from the crass interloping of Heather Mills, the estate, led by McCartney’s daughter Stella, had the impostor “cloned”; if something should happen to McCartney/Campbell, a clone could be made available to replace him without no one really knowing.

(The real Paul McCartney, it should be noted, was not an acrotomphiliac, but his clone, William Shears Campbell was once treated at an English mental institute for “sexual disorders”, long before he “became” Paul McCartney)

What brought the separation and divorce proceedings to a head was the revelation that Paul enjoyed a little “roughness” during sex with his handicapped wife. Paul enjoyed prolonging his orgasm while beating Heather over the head with her own prosthetic leg. Heather, being the masochist she is, took much erotic pleasure in being beaten, often goading Sir Paul into beating her unconsciously while he unleashed violent orgasms that could be heard throughout the Scottish countryside. On one occasion, however, McCartney got so carried away with smashing Mills upside her head, whilst in the midst of doing her doggie style, that he broke her real leg off and beat her with it.

At a press conference, a spokesperson for Sir Paul called Heather Mills’ accusations “without merit, and without a leg to stand on.” The spokesperson then made a BA-DUM-DUM gesture and left the press conference.

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2 thoughts on “The Sexual Deviances of the Celebrity Class, Or: Paul is Still Dead, and Very Kinky (An “Out Where the Buses Don’t Run” Excerpt!)

  1. Without a doubt, you are one hell of an entertaining writer. You should be writing for some sitcom or Letterman or Conan or The Simpsons….. Wait, I take that last part back. Write for yourself. And do lots of it. This excerpt is 10X better than I though it was gonna be. (actually you had me last week with the ‘shit meter’. What can I say?

    • Why, thank you, Kat! For my next book, I’ll have you write a blurb on the book jacket, singing my praises.

      Seriously, thanks for the kind words, and if you do purchase the book, I know it’ll be worth the purchase price, even at a discount.

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