I jerked off
over a picture of a "MILF" on a dodgy forum because she looked like my mother in law.
( Peej, Tue 20 Nov 2007, 12:43, 3 replies)

One mans trash...
When I was about 14 me & a couple of friends went through a period of 'finding' porn.

A couple of housing estates divided by an old lane near where I lived temporarily became a 'gold mine' of discarded porn - torn pages of Mayfair, now & then a Razzle 'pile up'.
We never knew why these were always appearing, some enraged wife or mother maybe? (un)fortunatly we never found out, but we continued to 'harvest' said fwapping material until it stopped appearing.

So we needed a new source... now, as if picking up discarded porn from a lane wasn't desperate enough we now found ourselves frequenting the paper banks, rummaging round desperately hoping someone's had the good grace to recycle their porn... best we'd get from this source was the Sunday Sport.
(Bad_Dogg, Tue 20 Nov 2007, 12:38, 2 replies)

more desperate recipes
Last weekend, I had nothing but a couple of pots of different mustard, some white wine, garlic, cream and capers. So I reduced the wine, added the mustard and garlic, reduced further and added the cream and capers before ladling over some broiled chicken. It was pretty tasty considering...
(frankspencer, Tue 20 Nov 2007, 12:37, 4 replies)

Why is it that being ill drives you to unusal lengths?
Flu, inability to taste anything, not been out for ages, yet really wanting cornflakes and milk..

Has anyone else sifted the lumps out of the milk using a tea-strainer?
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Tue 20 Nov 2007, 12:30, 2 replies)

Not as desperate as I thought.....
I graduated in a early eighties very depressed Sheffield and spent some time on the dole. I worked out at the time that I had less money to live on in total than my parents spent on cigs. But I digress. All clothes at that time were bought from charity shops and one day I bought a denim jacket for a quid. When I got home I found a pound note in the pocket (note: no longer legal tender, but could still be changed at banks). Anyway, it felt like I had won the lottery and fed me for days!
(misspiggy In danger of having to get a job, Tue 20 Nov 2007, 12:20, 3 replies)

Dog end roll-up's & discusting girl.
I've seen everyone posting about re-used dog ends. Basically i was home alone, parents were on holiday. They had left me enough money for about 40 quid a day. Well, me being me i spent it all in the first 2 days. But i did make sure i had food in the freezer. And i had been making dog end rollys all day as there were alot of ashtrays in my house. About 11 o'clock at night.. i had run out of dog ends and i was going mental. So i decided to go on msn and see if i could blag anyone to give me a couple of fags. Being a friday night there was hardly anyone on msn. Only one person i knew on there smoked. She was disgusting. And i don't use that world lightly. She was so disgusting it made me sick being near her. Anyway, i started "chatting her up" to butter her up so she would give me a fag. She told me she was grounded, but her bedroom was above a one story extention and if i go there and climb in, she would give me a fag.
So without thinking ive rushed out of the door and sprinted to her house just up the top of the road and around the corner. I climbed in her window and she was laying on the bed. I didnt know what was going through my head when i layed next to her and asked her for a fag. Obviously she got the wrong idea and started kissing me, i weighed up my options and thought, hey who cares. So kissing turns into more and i end up sleeping with her. After which she fell asleep. I picked up 20 mayfair off her side and jumped out of the window.
After getting home and thinking about it, at the time that was the best sex i'd ever had.

First time i've ever told anyone about it xD
(IndeedyGK, Tue 20 Nov 2007, 11:43, 1 reply)

Barbequed pizza
I have just been reminded by reading Vipros's reply to another post, of the time I barbequed a frozen pizza. (Have I posted this before? Can't remember.)

Inter-Railing, summer 1991. Me and two mates, Ian and Dave. We were in Vienna for a few nights and got to the youth hostel, hungry as usual. So, on finding that the hostel had a fully equipped kitchen, off we went to the local Konsum supermarket to stock up on such daily victuals as bread, cheese and apples, together with our extravagant evening meal, a large frozen pizza.

So we got back to the youth hostel and I went into the kitchen to put on the oven to heat the pizza. Only to find that the cooker hob worked OK, but the oven was out of order.

The only available cooking facility was an electric(!) barbeque out the back in the courtyard. So undaunted, we wrapped the pizza in tinfoil (from where we got that I can't remember) and fired up the barbeque, which was basically just an inverted grill.

Well, with the laws of radiative emission and conductive heat transfer being what they are, we soon ended up with a pizza which was still for the most part frozen, but had a charred base and some sticky slimy charred topping (for we did indeed turn it during cooking) stuck to the tinfoil. Not wanting to burn it any more than we already had, we removed it from the furnace-like heat source, removed the foil as best we could, and ate every scrap. Including picking the burnt cheese from the foil.

Amazing what you can eat when you're hungry. In a foreign country. And young and stupid.

I should add that we all have university degrees...
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Tue 20 Nov 2007, 11:28, 2 replies)

,,,,
Me and my cousin who I will call Martyn, as it is the name his mother gave him have been good mates since we were kids. We have worked together and gone out drinking together pretty much all our adult lives.

When we were about 18 we were working in a call centre and being the time before minimum wage we were earning the fabulous amount of £2 per hour. working only 18hrs a week this gave us a whopping £36 a week to get drunk, stoned and buy cigarettes out of (after paying board to our parents).

No surprise that we took to stealing peoples cigarettes then.. our favourite trick was to go to my cousins house late at night after his mam and step-dad had gone to bed and raid their ashtray for dumps to pull apart and make 'dump rolies'.

This went well for a while until, annoyed by the fact we would usually leave pulled apart cigarette butts strewn across the living room his step-dad (being a bit of a twunt by nature) decided to start flooding the ashtrays when he went to bed, fun well and truly spoilt!

One night after a drunken night out we went back to my cousins house to play on his Atari ST (tells you how long ago it was) and we did our ritual check of the household Ashtrays and lo and behold there it was !! a full 'rollie' all ready made and sitting in a dry ashtray.

Martyn gleefully light up the gift left by his step-dad and took a nice deep draw. It was at this point he started to cough and complained that it must have been standing a while as it 'just didn't taste right.. never the less free tobacco is free tobacco and he smoked the lot.

The Next morning when Martyn woke up he was greeted by a happier than usual step-dad who asked him "you enjoy that rollie I left you last night son?" "did it taste alright?... I hope so cos I made it something special in there... I pulled out and put in a load of my arse hair!"

I don't know whether the 'desperate comes from us so desperate for nicotine that we were tricked into smoking someone else's 'bum carpet' or whether it was Martyn's Step-dad who was so desperate to be evil?

Are all step-dads evil?.. I had a step-dad too that was a twunt and I am now a step dad myself and I simply cannot help myself from making my 17yr old step-sons life a misery. I like to think of it in a circle of life find of pattern..
(three inches of snarling death, Tue 20 Nov 2007, 11:17, 3 replies)

Pipe AND slippers?
A good pal of mine, and myself, a long long time ago had had a bit of a night out in Sheffield. It was so long ago that I recall it involved much alcohol on West Street at the Mailcoach, and from there, via The Hallamshire Hotel (when it had live bands) and onto Rebels.

Thats just aged me, hasn't it?

At the end of the evening, food was procured from the Grand Potato (for all your potato based late night food desires) and we trotted off back to my pals abode for some well earned food, and maybe a spliff or two.

It was only at that point that we found we had no rizlas. A couple of alternatives were tried. Toilet paper did NOT stand up to the test. Then we hit on the masterstroke. Post It Notes (tm). They'd obviously be perfect. They even come with a gummed edge.

But sadly no.

It wasn't to be.

The sheer foulness of burning Post It Notes (tm) was just too hideous to bare.

Thank goodness for the ol' trusty meerschaum :-)

My pal has asked for this story never ever to be told. So I haven't. Um. But he shall remain nameless.

Though some call him Mr Twiddly.

Or Trevor.
(TC, Tue 20 Nov 2007, 11:16, Reply)

Good pub story... just hope the brothers don't find out.
except the first bit which i shall tell in my anomintitiyte... no i couldn't even be bothered to go to dictionary.com

anyway on with the story

When i was 14 i went to stay with some fine nerdy friends of mine in las vegas. yes i know, stupid bloody age to go to las vegas but we still had a great time. however that year i had spent obsessing over one girl. kirsty. she was a flat chested skater girl, cute, kind, funny. all that. so anyway, i had sleep in a room with either one of the brothers at the base of the queen sized i was allocated. when it was about 2 in the morning and i could finally hear snores i started to enjoy myself and periodically go back and forth to the bathroom a few times (i'm still that horny) and the brothers would wonder why i slept in so late. we were eventually evicted by thier kind hearted father considering we spent all of our days playing LAN games and swimming in the pool. we tried to camp in all the canyons of the nevada area and around. this was to be a 4 day and night trip. 4 DAYS AND NIGHTS WITHOUT A WANK!!




so i came in the grand canyon under the stars.




EDIT: just remembered, was sat next to a young couple on the flight home wherein the young lass fell asleep facing me, fantastic cleavage.

i don't think it counts as the mile high club if it's monolove.
(Necromental is a voice., Tue 20 Nov 2007, 10:54, 1 reply)

On the upside

The great thing about desperate times is the pleasure of small luxuries. The time when you have a little windfall and spend a glorious Sunday evening with a full stomach, central heating on, smoking yourself to sleep - all is right with the world.

I remember one evening, unemployed & miserable, I was tidying up and found 20 quid in an envelope, a remnant of a previous job. The sense of elation was huge. Now day’s if I found 10 grand it be quite nice, but it wouldn’t mean as much as those 20 beautiful pounds.
( Ring Of Fire A petty, drooling belming butthurt retard., Tue 20 Nov 2007, 10:28, 2 replies)

Oh FFS
we might as well just change the qotw to 'half-arsed recipes'.
( Bob Todd whee, Tue 20 Nov 2007, 10:12, 4 replies)

Desperation I don’t understand...

There’s a pretty rundown Sainsbury’s in my town centre and it’s fantastic, mainly cos it keeps the riff raff out of Waitrose where I shop. Last week I saw a late middle aged guy buying Sushi that had been marked down, as it was on it’s use by date. I can not imagine the circumstance under which I would choose to buy stale sushi. I wanted to grab the guy by the shoulders and roughly shake him while shouting “WHAT HE FUCK ARE YOU DOING…BUY SOMETHING ELSE MAN…” but I just gave him a friendly nod instead.

His lack of food sense has been bothering me all week.

.
( Ring Of Fire A petty, drooling belming butthurt retard., Tue 20 Nov 2007, 9:35, Reply)

Ashtray reefer?
Heh! we called them "Dump rollys" (sp?) Occasionally there were 2nd and even 3rd generation ones. Yack. Been there Mate - I feel your pain!
(Reptilianoid, Tue 20 Nov 2007, 8:17, Reply)

French onion soup / Thai peanut sauce
Since we appear to have a bit of a QOTW recipes thing going, here are a couple of mine--French onion soup and Thai peanut chicken. Both are easy and cheap.

---

5 medium yellow onions
3 cloves garlic
Concentrate to make 5 cups beef stock
Wine
Butter
Spices

Dice onions, mince/press/chop garlic, and saute both in butter over medium heat until the onions start to brown. (This will take a long time.) Reconstitute stock with 1/2 water and 1/2 wine (for the wine, I used half sherry and half red), heat to boiling. Add onions to stock, season to taste.

That's it! I generally wing it on this recipe as far as, well, just about everything. Some heuristic tips, though:

* I generally use soy sauce, instead of salt, for a more robust flavor. A bit of Worcestershire sauce, balsamic vinegar, or similar savory condiments may add to the effect.
* Patience is a virtue--if you saute your onions longer, they'll get browner, and sweeter and richer in flavor, thanks to our old friend the Maillard reaction.
* That is, up until they start burning. The onions should be tender and slightly sweet when you transfer them to the broth.
* For the spices, I use some pre-mixed herbes de Provence that I got at Safeway (containing rosemary, marjoram, thyme, and savory), as well as a bit of black pepper. Seems to work fine, but there's always room for experimentation.

---

Thai peanut sauce. I stir-fry a pound or pound and a half of chicken breast and serve it with this and sometimes rice or pasta.

4 cloves garlic, minced, chopped, or pressed
Juice of 1/2 lemon (about 1 to 1 1/2 tablespoons)
1/2 cup peanut butter
1/4 cup water
1/4 cup ketchup
1/4 cup soy sauce
1/4 cup brown sugar
2 tablespoons peanut oil
1 tablespoon sesame oil
4 teaspoons chopped ginger
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
1 teaspoon onion powder
1 1/2 tablespoons crushed red pepper

Combine all ingredients until smooth. Can substitute two tablespoons of oil and one of water for the peanut and sesame oils, if desired. Will keep for one week in refrigerator.

---

Happy cooking, and happy eating!
(tellum0 is spelled with an 'o', Tue 20 Nov 2007, 5:21, 2 replies)

What haven't I done is a better question...
I've been homeless twice. When I escaped from the wife I moved into a tiny pickup camper with just electricity. I had to bicycle 10km each way to work. I lived for 5 years without running water in a rundown trailer so I could afford to go to university.

In the army I lived 10km from the barracks off post and had no car. I became quite fit that summer bicycling 10k before I got to the bay to do morning PT.

I have lived off of a little ramen and soup for days. and nasty peanut butter and jelly sammiches.

I have driven on extremely low levels of sleep when required and have done this repeatedly.


I ventured 3300 miles across the US in a car I just bolted together 6 hours before leaving twice. Once for a bad clutch. Once for a bad tranny.

I have worked in the fast food industry. I've been a security guard armed and unarmed once in an animal research facility operated by Alcon. They had monkeys, mice and rabbits there. The animals ate better than I did with a minimum wage job. I've delivered telephone books, set up stores, worked on assembly lines, worked in the army and worked in concrete precasting place year round outside where I had to get in the concrete mixer at the end of the night and chip it out with an airhammer.(If the safety interlocks failed it would have been me stew).

I have ducked creditors and dodged paying things when I got behind. I have even had a car repossessed.

I have dug myself out of most holes except for my college debt, car and house.

My car is fairly new, I have a fresh graduate degree I can make money in... MBA and I have a house with a big two car garage, living room and two bedrooms to myself.

What am I most proud of that I have done in desperation? Leave my cheating wife 2 days before our 2nd anniversary.
(armednuclearterrorist, Tue 20 Nov 2007, 2:50, 3 replies)

Just in time
Back in the days when I had no qualifications or a driving license, the only job available to me was working at Wimpy at Watford Gap Services on weekends as it was only a bike ride away.

This was a terrible job where the staff were very overworked and very underpaid for what we had to put up with. The "food" always had to be cooked to order so there were regularly que's stretching for as far as the eye can see as coach loads of people came in at a time the fill their hungry stomachs with the finest roadside cuisine in Northamptonshire.

Of course, there was also an equally long que of angry people who were sick of waiting for their food which was usually cooked by one person whilst the other member of staff took care of the serving of customers and the handing out of food when its cooked.

We were allowed £8 a day food on our breaks and considering each meal was £5 and upwards, we decided that we would take the piss with what we put into the burgers. these behemoths of meat and salad encased in a fresh sesame seed bun would have cost at least £10 had they been offered to the customers.

After such a feast the previous working day, I started to have quite a bad gut towards the end of my shift, but as I didn't live too far away I decided I could make it back to comfort of my own throne room.

The bike ride home became increasingly uncomfortable as each bump in the road jogged the contents on my colon closer to evacuation earlier than planned. I had to carry my bike up a flight of stairs on the way to my house and I don't think my buttocks have been so tightly clenched since, you could have bent a 50 pence piece in half, and then half again between the cheeks.

I just about made it through the front door and to the downstairs toilet, undoing my Wimpy issue trousers on the way, when my exhausted sphincter gave in as I frantically lifted the toilet seat and turned around to lower my tired cheeks onto the ice cold porcelain without spraying the walls a nice shade of brown.

the toilet was another matter of course. The clean up operation was pretty intensive but the relief was unmeasurable.

I would appologise for length but I spent the time typing it so you can spend the time reading it.
(Rickaaay Call me Ricky, for that is my name., Mon 19 Nov 2007, 23:07, 2 replies)

Recipe
This one served me well during my days at uni:

1 x Plain Egg Noodles (dry kind that Legless mentioned, about 8p at the cheapest but Sharwood's are best)

2 x Spring Onions, chopped.

1 x Chicken stock cube.

1/3 pack of pre-cooked Sainsbury's basics sliced chicken breast.

Maybe a chilli, chopped, if you like, beansprouts, chorizo, prawns, basically anything.

Method:

Make stock with boiling water and cube.
Put in spring onion and chicken and chilli, simmer for a bit.
Add noodles and cook until noodles are done (in the region of 3 to 4 mins)

Et voila. Noodle Soup.
( mr_wicksy is.... old., Mon 19 Nov 2007, 22:27, 5 replies)

Holy Smoke!
When I was a poor student, I ran out of fags often. On one such occasion, I decided to manufacture what is known as an "ashtray reefer". This is the art of rolling a cigarette from the dogends in the ashtray.

The ashtray was empty, but being desperate I managed to fish the last lot of dogends out of the bin and scrape some tobacco together.

Then I realised I had no Rizlas - and no money to buy any. At all.

Brainwave! In a cupboard in the corner of my bedsit was a copy of the Qu'ran, left behind by a previous occupant, and the pages were very thin. I didn't want to be a total blasphemer, so I used the page from the chapter titled "The Smoke". I rolled up the baccy with three marijuana seeds that I'd been saving (to plant), and stuck the makeshift spliff together with sellotape.

To this day, I don't know if it was the seeds or the melting sellotape fumes, but boy did I get stoned.

Which I presumably will be now, by deranged religious nutters.
( finnbar has officially retired, Mon 19 Nov 2007, 21:53, 2 replies)

Seeing as we are trading recipies.
Here's my signature budget meal:


Half bag of smartprice pasta
Jar of smartprice bolognaise sauce (or morrisons bettabuy pasta sauce)
cheese (optional, maybe)
butter (optional)

Preheat the oven to 180c
Knob pasta, jar of sauce and jar of sauce filled up to the top of the label in a baking dish and stir. Bake for 20 minutes.

Grate cheese topping. Add knob of butter to pasta and stir, add chese topping, bake for another 15-20 minutes (according to texture and taste).

Enjoy. Feeds 2 or one greedy bastard.

It may take a while but it's effortless, apart from cleaning the pyrex dish.
( Slippery Mick ‏, Mon 19 Nov 2007, 21:38, 2 replies)

It's pretty obvious
that GL already knows and understands those points - but is voting for the bag vag on grounds of creativity.

Personally I think that it's a bij improvement.
(snopesthetruth, Mon 19 Nov 2007, 20:32, 1 reply)

Nnnngh
To date (non-chronological):

1. Knocking one out over the swimwear / lingerie section of the Freemans catalogue.
2. Dropping something the size of a Rhino turd in some sub-saharan filling station after SIX HOURS of mind-bending bowel cramps and a titanic struggle to stop from shitting while driving. I had to use the newspaper left on the sink to wipe my hole. No idea why I didn't just shit in the bush.
3. Utilising a loaf of bread as a makeshift wank-toy. Go figure.
(mymilkshakebringsallthemongstotheyard poison hearts, poison minds - joining hate, Mon 19 Nov 2007, 20:10, 3 replies)

Another wee-wee story
First girls night out with new colleagues, small company where everyone knows everyone else. We went down to Brighton and had a cracking time. After about 4 nightclubs we headed off to get the Vomit Comet back to Redhill.

Unfortunately on the way back up the hill to the station, my bladder which was recycling 6 pints of lager started to protest loudly. THe girls with the tickets were way ahead of me, out of earshot and talking nine to the dozen, paying the new girl not the least bit of heed. Thinks - I'll head up one of those side streets and pee behind a parked car.

I selected a street which surely nobody would head down at such an unearthly hour. Sure as God hates me, as soon as my kex were down and I was in full flow, a respectable young man walked right past me.

I instinctively yanked up my trousers but failed to cut off the flow. Wet patch the size of Lake Windermere. Long train delay at Brighton, giving colleagues plenty of time to spot it. Long train journey with colleagues giving them plenty of time to inhale my new perfume.

All have left the company now though - I have lived down the story, till now..
(biscuitsocks random gene expression, Mon 19 Nov 2007, 19:53, 1 reply)

I'm sure this is commonplace in some circles
...but when staying at my sister's house once, I was about to go for my morning SSSS (shit, shave, shower and shampoo) when she informed me that, regretfully, there was no bog roll left.

And handed me the previous day's Sun.

Page 3 models look somewhat less glamorous when streaked like the starting grid at Monza.
(rogerzilla, Mon 19 Nov 2007, 19:31, 1 reply)

If we're posting chilli recipes
Then I might have one to trump even Legless' for simplicity (No offence meant of course - it sounds pretty damn tasty!)

Now I am a veggie, so I've not really got any idea how you'd go about shoehorning meat into this; maybe fry it with the onions? Anyway I digress.

Take one large onion. Chop into bits
Lots of garlic (Say 5 or 6 cloves - I like garlicky stuff and this is enough to feed 4 easy) chop up the garlic too.

Fry onion and garlic in a big pan with some oil until they look a bit more cooked than when you started (To be honest you could probably leave 'em raw but I like the smell of frying onions.

Add to the pan: one can of chopped tomatoes, one tin of baked beans, one tin of kidney beans, one tin of other beans (I like butter beans but I'm sure blackeye or aduki or whatever will work okay) Also fling some chilli flakes in at this point - how much is up to you.

Turn the heat right up until it starts to bubble, then back to medium-low heat for 40 minutes, stirring every 10mins so it doesn't stick to the bottom of the pan.

Bingo, you just made chilli; serve with rice or pasta or baked potatoes or anything - and Legless is absolutely right, it tastes better the next day (I think the capsaicin from the chillies has more time to diffuse?)

Best bit - it feeds 4 people and costs:
onion: 30p
Garlic: 30p
Baked beans: 15p
Tomatoes: 15p
Kidney beans: 15p
Butter beans: 35p
Chilli flakes: 50p for a whole jar from Tesco
Rice: 50p a bag

So a total of 2 pounds 40p split four ways gets you dinner for 60p each.

Oh yeah, I've recently been desperate enough for sushi that I've bought Tesco ready made stuff. Might as well have eaten cardboard with wasabi and soy *shudder*
(Kendal, Mon 19 Nov 2007, 19:12, Reply)

Desperate for Breakfast....
I have an angry friend called Martin.When he is happy, he is very very happy. When he is down he is deeply deeply down.

He likes to partake in mood enhancing chemicals that come by the gram.

As such he had had a busy friday night, and as his appetite came back he realised his place was a shite hole with no food and popped out to continue his stalker round and see another friend of the group, Vix.

She had had a funny old night previous, and her and her now husband had indulged in a little sex play as they made dinner. As such, it became the food of love and contained a special extra ingredient. Her mans love potion. They ate heartily as they screwed themselves stupid, left the kitchen as if it was left on the Mary Celeste and went to bed to finish off what they had started.

Whizz to 11am next morning. Martin Arrives and is chatting away over a cuppa in their kitchen.

"ooh, whats that - mashed potato?"
"Yes" she says, with a quivvering in her voice " but don't touch that - its from yesterday and been out on the side all night" thinking any regular human would then leave it.
Before she finished the sentence she saw him just guzzling it back.

How do you tell a friend they are eating your other halfs jizz infused mash?

"Its fine - i was just so hungry " and he says proudly " - these people today, throwing away good leftovers. Its just people being too prudish. It won't hurt"

Martin isn't especially (read not) tolerant of manlove, or those whom practice it.

To this day the mention of special mash is greeted with titters. It was so funny, that both Vix and her man both told us seperately - they didn't care what we thought of them. I can just see the agro cnut greedily slurping his fill.
( bazza van der trance , ooh baby baby, baby baby. Get up on this., Mon 19 Nov 2007, 15:51, 3 replies)

Mashed potatoes
I was so drunk and hungry round a friends house one night, I decided to make mashed potatoes.

The problem was that I forgot to turn the gas hob off, and left a tea towel on it. Luckily the smoke woke my friend up, and he put out the fire in the kitchen, opened the window and went to bed.

I woke the next morning on the sofa, to be faced with a very angry semi-friend. (Half friend I mean, he wasn't sporting a partial erection).

"Tell me honestly, and please just for once be honest, did you or did you not drunkenly make mashed potatoes last night?"
"Honestly? No, I swear. I couldn't find any crisps so I just went to sleep".
"Right that's it, you're never coming back here again".

Sherlock had rumbled me, because:
The kitchen floor was covered in potato peelings, water, and a saucepan;
There was a trail of mashed potato from the kitchen to the sofa I was lying on;
Next to me was a bowl with mashed potaoes in;
I had a bit of mashed potato in my hair;
I was holding a potato masher.

Moral: One who is mashed, trust not with a masher. Or something.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Mon 19 Nov 2007, 15:29, 1 reply)

Work Computer, No Jazz: Problem Solving 101.
I apologise... this isn't about poo.
However.. that leaves only 1 acceptable topic.

************************

Well, as is the way in my profession, I ended up in the middle of Spain for work. Some places in the world are registered as "God Fearing". This lot - if compared on the same scale - would be dribbling nervous wrecks.

As such there was no pron on TV, and the chances of picking a lass up in town was Zero. (Introduce yourself to the bar-lady there and you'd swiftly fid that the ONLY english she knew was "I no fuck". Amusing.)

So... Given Web access there's temptation to surf for Pron, But that just doesn't feel right on computer that you use for work. Those of you who know me might have just spat out your coffee... but I really *Do* have limits..) Dammit!!! There's no mobile reception, so phone sex is out... Ahhh... I brought my webcam. Sorted.

Who's online?
No exes.
Just friends.
Open-minded Cute friends... Yup. Just the one.
Does she have a Webcam... YES!

"Erm... I'm as horny as a goat... want to play?"
"Sure, Why not?"

40 minutes later (yes, I'm exaggerating) She'd come a dozen times (the lady knows what fingers are for) And I was sat there with glazed knuckles and a slippery chest.

It seemed like desperate measures then, but it became something of an excellent habit.

Length/Girth? The webcam never lies. ;o)
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Mon 19 Nov 2007, 15:29, Reply)