The Bastarding Superman

We all have our nemesis moves and this fucker is mine. Stupid bloody Superman there is nothing super about it! It should be called the Cuntyman, or the Prickman, or the Shithouseman, or the Extremely bloody painful man. This trick is about as “super” as diarrhoea.

My pole family will know I have been wrestling with the Superman for almost as long as Lex Luthor has and I am finally almost getting somewhere with it. After months and months of  practicing the trick on and off, I have finally managed to heave myself into the horizontal position. I now need to focus on taking the bottom hand off the pole and thrusting myself into that infamous vortex of agony.

Basically, I have been getting into my attempted Superman via the following process; side climb into a nice sturdy Jasmine, re-apply my top hand, try and nut myself in the nose with my top knee, twist over and hope for the best (lol, I did warn you this blog wasn’t written by a professional). Now, it took me a good few months to get into the horizontal position after flopping like sack of old spuds onto the faithful crash mats below at every attempt. Turns out I was prematurely twisting and not getting my knee close enough to my face. Who knew? Well not fucking me that’s for sure.

Now, last week at Sunday practice was a momentous occasion. Not only because it was the 27th birthday of yours truly, but because it was the closest I had come yet in my noble quest to annihilate the Superman. Basically, after twisting round, taking my bottom hand off and giving myself a delightful mingury in the process (look after your vagina ladies) here came the slightly more successful attempt two.

Right so I’m in my sturdy Jasmine, lifted my knee close enough to my face, twisted myself round, feeling pretty secure, fuck I’m almost there! Right, just gotta thrust my hips down and lift my legs up…

The fucking pole has just turned into a sword and is trying to slice my legs off from the thighs down. WHAT EVEN IS THIS AGONY?! I’m no pole virgin and have experienced a few burns in my time but this motherfucker is something else entirely! The sharp, ripping pinching is vile. Needless to say the bottom hand didn’t come off. It stayed firmly on as I exited from the move of doom as quickly as possible before I rolled off the crash mat, grabbing my inner thighs and crying.

Well that’s the current update on Foxen’s battle with the Superman. No matter how painful, I am determined to conquer this prick once and for all! Watch out Superman, Lex Luthor Foxen is up in this muthafucka and is working on her kryptonite thighs of steel.

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