Oliver Reed’s Cock

Today, I woke up and I’m lying there and all I could think about was Oliver Reed‘s cock. So I thought, sod this. I should get up and stop thinking about Oliver Reed’s cock.

Now I wasn’t thinking about it for cock’s sake, I was thinking about it for good reason. The reason being, ‘What was the tattoo on Ollie Reed’s cock? Was it a tiger? A bird? What? He got it out enough times, so somebody should know.

I had to stop myself from googling ‘Oliver Reed’s Cock’ this morning. I mean, it’s like I’ve got nothing else to worry about. I do have loads to worry about but why worry about bills and stuff when you can worry about Ollie Reeds cock.

So, I remember that he had a bird tattoo somewhere on his body and then that would be his perfect opportunity to whip out said cock and then say, ‘and this is where the bird perches.’ But what would he have tattooed there, just so he could say that?

So, maybe I just made that up, or dreamt it, as a reason, to get out Oliver Reed’s cock.

Problem is, I’m still thinking about it.

I guess it’s just one of those days where you wake up thinking about Oliver Reed’s cock. I think Oliver Reed’s cock will run right through the day, like the word ‘Blackpool’ in a stick of rock.

Have I said ‘Oliver Reed’s Cock’ enough times?

I refuse to look, to take a peek, at Oliver Reed’s cock. I’m not doing it. I’m not googling it. It was sad enough that I woke up thinking about Oliver Reed’s cock. I absolutely don’t want to sink as low as typing in ‘Oliver Reed’s cock.’

Could someone do it for me please? How can that be less embarrassing than blogging all about his cock I wonder? But then I can just pretend it was passive information gleaned from a well meaning reader.

But you see, I have asked. Asking is just as sad isn’t it? More so. It’s not passive. It’s requested.

Another Oliver (the Charles Dickens one) requested more food. ‘Can I have more please sir?’ And that was seen as begging. Requesting is a bit like begging.

So, it’s like begging really. Begging for Oliver Reed’s cock.

I wonder how many hours I can go without putting Oliver Reeds cock into my google box?

These things in my head are such a nuisance.

I’ve not long read a book about Ollie. I found it enjoyable, entertaining, deeply informative and it probably inspired this post, and yes, it does talk about ‘The Tattoo’ but I’ve had a few sleeps since then and can’t remember the details.

Here’s the link, ‘What Fresh Lunacy Is This?’ by Robert Sellers