All the Buddz our pums desire

Ok so a MASSIVE progression has been made on the getting-to-sex-up-and-interview-Collie-Buddz front.

Twitter, god love it, allowed us to get in touch with DJ Genie - who just HAPPENS to be the sexlord that is Collie's DJ.

We did it a little something like this... (Imagine a 'RUN DMC ' soundtrack here if you will...)

US: OI GENIE BLUD, we rly rly rly want to meet up with Collie Buddz so that we can show him how buff we are and ting. Can you have him holla at us.

HIM: I'll see what I can do.

US: SAFETY ROOOODEBOY.

HIM: (Tweets) "Shout out to my UK ladies @FuchsiaStiletto @LoukiaC @Bwalya_ they go hard! lol" (I'm not sure why he lol'd as we clearly do go as hard as something very hard, like a stone surface)

Plus then @DJYASMIN backed us to the FULLHEST - "tell @DjGenie if he doesn't let the Pum Tang Clan interview @colliebudz I'll challenge him to a spin off and end his career."

Ooh Yasmin, girl you bad - good-bad like Christina A in that hot video where she looks like a hot little puerto rican tramp.

But in conclusion - for bringing us one step closer to our goal..........

Pum Tang Ladies heart DJ GENIE - I.D.S.T.4.E.M

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Things I proper wish I was doing volume three.

What I'm currently doing: Planning to become a WAG (Lend me your Juicy anyone?), talking about rude boys with red-eye in stolen whips that end every sentence with the word "still", promoting hustling on the streets and prostitution, advising everyone not to stay in school and not go to Uni, sending gay emails, listening to Cat Stevens, drinking the world's strongest coffee, planning my pregnancy by an MC, stalking Collie Buddz and finding ways we can get him on the blog, trying to find all the slags that Collie Buddz has touched and eradicate them from the face of the Earth, discussing rum shots, wallowing in my lack of responsibility, thinking of ways to accidentally rob a bank, tweeting profanities and other such good things in life.

What I'd rather be doing: Nothing hactually.

Things I proper wish I was doing Vol. 2

Dear Collie,

From the Pum Tang Clan I'd like to just say babez we love you... one if not all of us would be more than happy to walk around your yard bare feet in a moo moo heavily pregnant with your child.

You are the light of our life and you can give us all the green you like to shot for you... we'll grind in your videos and cut any bitches that try to take you from us. We urgently beseech your twitter attention so you can realise just how endearing and fucking awesome our vagetastic camel hoof movement really is.

Please be our baby daddy, invite us to Bermuda to jam with you then serenade us with your sweet sweet dancehall flavour.

Love PTC

Things I Proper Wish I Were doing

Searching for celebrity camelhoofs pon tha net – The day I see the Queen Mother or Barbara Windsor (virtually the same person) with a stonking fat camelhoof is the day I can die happy. Or at least not depressed and wondering where I went wrong in my life.

Playing rounders in the park – actually, maybe I’d rather play basketball because although I’m well shitters at it (due to my sports apathy) it does seem to attract the most lush men. Footballers pale in comparison to a 7foot tall ‘Baller’. Ooh Wee. Plus the outfits are better.

Listening to these three tunes on repeat – Cam’ron – Silky, The Lovely Shystie – Pull It, Skepta & Giggs– Look Out – while chain smoking Marlborough Lights and practicing my skank in the mirror.

Stuffing my face with any of these foods – rusks, peacan & maple danish pastries, houmous and pitta bread, chips and mayo

(1:1 weight ratio), rich tea biscuits dunked in tea with 4 sugars. Convenience, YO.

Stalking my ex boyfriends on Facebook/Twitter/Myspace – and hoping that they aren’t happy in any way and that if they do have new girlfriends that they are ugly and shit in bed.

Online shopping – because I’m too lazy to hacktually drag my ass to the shops and try shit on. I’d rather wait for it to arrive and hope it doesn’t make me look like Bianca Jackson holidaying in Ayia Napa as most of my clothes usually do.

Things I am HACKTUALLY doing:

Writing this blog, sat at my incredibly messy desk, drinking green tea – apparently it can shift my thunder thighs in time for holiday. Doubtful.

Turn your swag off and die,

Dear Men of the world,

As the lone male voice in the Camel Hoof movement, I come before you bearing a message of great wisdom from a world of glorious hollyhock scented pum pum in which you will never know. No I am not the chosen one nor am I the "les-bro" messiah who has come to lead you misguided souls to this Island of amazonian hood rats . Contrary to popular belief I do not have all the answers , but I do know one thing. If ever you desire to see the promise land of pum, you need to DEAD the word swagger. If you have any sort of respect for yourself , you will shove the word in the closet, handcuff it's hands behind it's back, tie a rope around it's cock & balls and let it die of auto erotic asphyxiation in a hotel room somewhere in Thailand.

The clan has spoken and they see right through that insecure confidence and over inflated sense of self importance. They know you are overcompensating with brash bravado to make up for the size of that half eaten Tic Tac you refer to as your penis. They know you were the morbidly obese kid in the high school that got his tits pinched by the footballers because they thought those 45 inch nipples of yours would produce rice milk, strawberry Jello, or a delicious custard of some sort. IT IS OK.

However, it is not OK to marinate yourself in a bath tub full of AXE body spray and Old Spice Swagger before you hit the pub.club, disco, or local brothel (even hookers have standards). The fact that any girl with half a brain and a decent sense of smell can pick up your aroma from 4 blocks away should be an indication that you are putting a little to much effort into the concept of "cool". The thought of some honky in an all weather purpose du rag and a 4xl Averix jean jacket (sorry Westwood) using the word in every other breath is truly a slap in the face to the forefathers of cool. Can you imagine Miles Davis, David Bowie, Prince, or even someone like Mos Def jiggin over to the dance floor, creeping up behind the first fat ass in a pair of heels he sees, and whispering "What it do ma...i gotz dat swag" in the ear of a poor drunk soon to be rape victim?

As a man I do understand the importance of confidence, bravado and preserving ones ego. But, as SMART man I also understand the concept of reality. The reality of the situation is that most men who feel the need to write SWAG across their foreheads in permanent marker, are either remarkably delusional, self absorbed or an insecure fuck boy who spends his parents hard earned money on buying The Pum Tang Clan round after round and shot after shot. You can pop champagne all night long and drape yourself from head to toe in the finest Ed Hardy/Affliction rhinestone t-shirts you can get your grubby little hands on, but wallowing in your own "swag" and looking like Jim Jones WILL NOT get you anywhere near the pums of my fellow staff members.





That is unless you are in fact Jim Jones, in which case all my fellow staff members would more then likely fuck you. Well not Yasmin...she is more of Juelz Santana fan

MEGAN FOX HOOF NEWSFLASH

It's apparently not enough being upsettingly buff as Megan Fox has unveiled a mighty camel hoof to win over the Pum-Tang Clan's hearts. Once again making me feel sexually confused her loud and proud mound is the icing on the experimental lesbian cake for me. Her face is sex, she bums Transformers and has loads of unnecessary tattoos AND reportedly a potty-mouth that won't quit. PLEASE BE MY WIFE. Gonna go scrawl JO ♥ 's MEGAN on a desk and cover my school books in her pics HEHEROFLKMTCOCKLMAOLOLZHEHE.

Trendsetters'R'Us

Cool, so yeah, we've seen her desperate attempt for album sales including the above haircut and the 'unfortunate' (and not at all contrived) photos of her Party Pieces being leaked. Popular (to some) American TV personality La La Vasquez has now jumped on the bandwagon and shaved half of her empty dome too.


She posts on her twitter that Cassie started "The Movement" (The Movement being the side-shave) and she has done a "La La Remix".

*Cue all trendy Shoreditch gals who've been rocking the side shave since morning to be riddled with anger at this statement*

Don't worry trendy ladies, I know you lot started it, I've got your back, but it begs the question, what next hairstyle should our trendy british ladies rock before it gets stolen by an untalented american fuckwit desperate for some kind of niche to make themselves relevant?

Well I've taken it upon myself to bring some slept on styles to the table.

1. The Mullet

Can't say I'm not surprised that someone hasn't picked up on this one yet.

2. Vivienne Westwood's Colour Job

You can't really get more british that Auntie Viv. I'd love to see that wastegirl Cassie try and pull off bright ginge.

3. Ashanti's sideburns

My personal favourite.
This style is perfect for girls who are low maintenance and/or a tad hairy. If unfortunately you don't have incessant hairgrowth on your face, this style can be easily recreated by using an eyebrow pencil to create the illusion of shadowed stubble in the sideburn region.
(monobrow optional)

PUM TANG CLAN SET TO RELEASE AN ALBUM OF REMIXES.

Basically babez I'm proposing we release an album to feature remixes of some of the finest R'n'B, Hip-Hop and other grind-worthy  songs of all time.

Here are some potential bangers:

PUM TANG CLAN REMIX = "CASE OF THE HOOF"
"What you gonna do when you can't say no and the HOOF starts to grow boy I really need to know..."


PUM TANG CLAN REMIX = "BIG HOOFIN'"
"Big Hoofin', wearing G's(trings)"


PUM TANG CLAN REMIX = "IN THAT HOOF"
"Tell me is there anymore room for me, in that HOOF..?"


PUM TANG CLAN REMIX = "WHO LET THE HOOF OUT"
"Who let the HOOF out? HOOF! HOOF! HOOF! HOOF!"

And so on and so forth.

Who knows...remixes of the moronic skank trends might also happen featuring the likes of:

Heads Shoulders Knees and Hoof.

Cameltoe Skank.

Jump in the middle and HOOF.

Etc...

Calling all producers with studios and ting, dont be selfish fuckers,
FEEL FREE TO ARRANGE STUDIO TIME FOR US YEH?! Thanks :)

#HOOFHOP #PUMANDBASS ... there were more

For the love of God!

Ey Yo! – even God reckons that jamming with girls and their camel hoofs is a bad look.

Leviticus 11:4 (King James Version)
"4Nevertheless these shall ye not eat of them that chew the cud, or of them that divide the hoof: as the camel, because he cheweth the cud, but divideth not the hoof; he is unclean unto you."

Really God?! Well I don't even believe in you so suck out! About unclean. KMT. Our camels are fresh as a daisy.

I want to be in this video

CLASSIC... fem fresh for anyone who can bust the dance moves out perfect. I want those shin pads, socks and the New York jersey... Oh Mary J you are and always will be the first lady.

Berrrrrrr Camel Toe

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Put your hands up if.....

.....you've ever stumbled into a sleazy as fuck club, spazzed up on £2.99 white wine, pushed your way to the bar, downed two alcopops with a 'bucca chaser and legged it to the dancefloor when this comes on...

"OH, IT'S MY SONG!"




YOU ARE NOT A DRUNKEN, SWEATY UNI STUDENT, YOU ARE THE GIRL OFF THE VIDEO, THE POPPIN' LOCKIN' FLY ASS CHICA THAT WILL GRIND YOUR HOOF ON ANY AND EVERY MAN SHUFFLING AROUND ON THE DANCE FLOOR.....



(two hands up if you know all the words!)

Where we have greedy pums, guys have Low Batty Jeans.

Fair enough - us ladies occasionally have a hungry pum, and it eats our trousers/wet look leggings/silk panties but we never mean for this to happen - its NOT OUR FAULT YEAH? But bussing the Tribal Skank without your trousers falling down should be a standard. Right? Apparently not. Now I'm the first to admit my heart goes all a'flutter at the sight of a slitty-eyed, weed scented young wrapper with his jeans so low I can see the entire half moon of his peachy little ass BUT (and its a big butt) - is it not an invitation for a massive bumming? I mean, if I were a gay man (and lets be honest its not really that hard to imagine - I'm slutty and well dressed enough) and I saw a deelisious young thuggery gent with his whole bottom on show I'd take it as an invitation to plant my peenie in his rectal passage. Because while a firm, round bottom is lovely for us ladies to look at we can't really get our rocks of with it in any way can we? And without doing any real research, and thus probably just making this up, I suspect the low-slung trend started in prison where belts were confiscated and bums raided. So boys, buy a belt or forever be on the receiving end of my 'you really want some back door action don't you' glares. Don't say I didn't warn you.

An Official Survey Confirms: CAMELTOE IS SEXY

Cameltoe, chaffing, cystitis and thrush are no longer secret and shameful panty pastimes, they are FINALLY something to be celebrated. I like to think of this blog as our very own revolutionized version of the vagina monologues. The only difference is that our anecdotes would be performed as rap videos rather than monologues. You know, the kind with big, silky muscular men in chinchilla coats, bouncing cars, crates of Cristal and all of us cameltoe hoes in cameltoetastic diamante thongs and nipple tassels. My life officially just got better at the thought of this.

       I never thought I’d finally find an outlet where I could openly talk about what has now become the satisfying sensation of my panties raping my pum-pum. I never thought that I’d finally be able to discuss the times where my knicker-eating coochie pars me. The moments on the train where you can sense the person in front of you trying their very best to avoid looking at your pelvic area. Or even better, the times when there’s a pervert sat in front of you who is openly drooling directly at your snatch and the fact that it is distinctly separated, enticing the voyeur, welcoming them inside. And yet here I am honoring camelhoof far and wide.

       You might think the most common victims are very often gymnasts or dancers with their leotards and tights but these days it’s regular girls like me and you who walk around in desperation to look the bufftingz who fall prey to the intangible hoof.

       Someone once told me that there is nothing sexier than a curvaceous girl wearing tight trousers to show off her batty and hips to potential fuck buddies/rudeboys (aka the loves of my life). Being one of these curvalicious Mediterranean girls myself, (unfortunately not in the way that my sexual homegirl Shaniqua Latoya on the banner of the blog is), it became my sole purpose in life to find the world’s tightest jeans and in turn become the sexiest peng ting the world has ever seen. I found out that my wit, intelligence and charm were not what I needed to impress a man; all I needed was my pum pum, my bum bum and my titties. In my plight I discovered leggings, hot pants, cycling shorts and suddenly I found myself in bars manifesting my open lovebox to the world and yielding better results than I had anticipated.

So you see, camelhoof is something we should all embrace. It is proof that we are trying to make ourselves sexy for the man dem. And they love it. 

Here is the evidence:

An official survey carried out on one pervert, by yours truly about 5 minutes ago, came out with the results that although it might not look so purdy you can't deny that “man just sees it and thinks rah, I wanna mash dat.” I for one DEFINITELY wanna get mashed. 

Cameltoe hoe till I die.

A CAMEL HOOF REVOLUTION

A bit like Loose Women on PCP, except none of us are munters or have our meat curtains sweeping the floor when we walk. This blog will revolutionise the art of talking about fuck all and will either make you physically shake with anger or worship us as goddesses.

We recruiting...pum pum only yeah?