My alsatian
My two year old female alsatian just started humping my leg.

Length? nothing she has been snipped.
(MechanicalMarigold then one day you find ten years have got behind, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 21:05, 23 replies)

England
Football matches
(Tirtingsquirtle, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 20:55, 1 reply)

Life.

( Peregr1n @peregr1n, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 20:39, 1 reply)

British Summer
Suprised it hasn't been mentioned yet, actually.

It is currently (where I am, anyway) pissing down with rain. Has been on and off for days. This is *not* the sort of weather you want in June/July, is it? And yet a couple of months ago I managed to get sunburn from standing outside for 3 hours in the morning.

And this has been normal for me for the last 3 summers running. Worst. Weather. Ever.
(TuftyBee should have been working on, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 20:37, 1 reply)

Big Trak
I really thought I would be able to shape my own destiny with such a sophisticated tool. (Note I said tool and not toy - this was hi tech asimov stuff). I pestered the folks for the best part of a year and they eventually compromised with a birthday/christmas deal.

Christmas morning came and I was constipated (painfully so) with excitement. I spent an hour programming it to move from the room into the kitchen - to prove to my parents that it really was wonder science at work.

It didn't and when I did get eventually get the hang of the stupid distance bollocks I was bored out of my skull.

I'd promised my Dad it would deliver apples and heal and whatnot. I wonder if he was disappointed when the 'fully programmable electronic vehicle' ended up in the cubby hole under the stairs mid January.

I know it was just a toy but I'd spent months of my life believing it would change the universe.
( Woolworth Smells of festive spices, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 20:36, 2 replies)

Which way to go, humourous, shallow or honest?
Humourous...The Mighty Boosh. Maybe I'm too old for that particular brand of Zany.

Shallow...when I realised that Jackie Chan fight scenes were sped up- I thought they really were 25% faster at punching and kicking than normal people :-)

Honest...Blow Jobs don't really work for me. I hyperventilate and get dizzy and then the lady gets bored when I can't complete...

Technical...Driving a 300BHP V12 Jag series 3 and finding that, because of its 3-speed auto it's actually quite slow.

Food...Olives (and olive oil). For some, gastronomic paradise...for me, gags-ville.

Movie...Blair Witch Project. Yawn.

Album...Topographic Oceans. I know Yes are Prog but that really was the proggiest self-indulgent stuff ever. The other 21 albums are much better.
( Rotating Wobbly Hat That's not a banana. THIS is a banana., Thu 26 Jun 2008, 20:36, 7 replies)

Sea Monkeys


Utter bollocks. My life went downhill from there.
( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 20:33, 11 replies)

My biggest disappointment today is...
Coming onto qotw and finding all my B3ta friends have disappeared.
( girlinthehole, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 20:24, 118 replies)

Changing from 2Mb to upto 8Mb broadband
Then: The occasional slow period.
Now: Lucky if it stays usable for half an hour. Sometimes 5 sync losses in a minute according to the router logs.
( idonthaveafunnynickname Drink-Aware? Sure. I'm aware I want another drink., Thu 26 Jun 2008, 20:12, Reply)

Currently: Every minute
that I didn't get up a minute a go and am not currently walking out of here to go and do something fun and interesting in the sunshine.
(Richy_T hundreds if not thousands of dollars, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 19:44, Reply)

Xstopher
Yes I played Grandia, I quite enjoyed that actually :o) I'm enjoying Kingdom Hearts at the moment; although the platform bits a bit annoying
( h3donist tryin' to play me out as if my name is Sega.., Thu 26 Jun 2008, 19:41, 3 replies)

Christmas
1987.

The year after Smith and Jones Christmas special, so I being an impressionable nine year old had high expectations on something even better on tv, better presents, more food, bigger presents, great films, more presents...you get the picture.

Since August of that year I'd been begging, pleading with, writing christmas lists and vowing to be good in order to get a chopper bike (pedal powered, not a vroom vroom) like my older brothers had. They'd zoom around on them looking oh so cool and would NEVER let me have a go as "You're a girl/you'll break it/you're too small/just NO". Fuckers.

So bearing in mind I'd been diagnosed hyperactive (ADHD for the 80s) I really was trying my best to behave in school, at church, at home etc...and was for the most part successful when just before my birthday (November) my mum announced that she'd bought my Christmas present, but I'd have to continue to be good or Father Christmas would take it back to lapland for the elves to play with.

My birthday passed in a blur that year. I don't even remember what I got, a party, some friends over, but this year it was all about TEH CHRISTMAS.

Christmas eve I'm sitting around looking all smug as it's only a few hours til I go to bed and then wake everyone up at 4am (as is tradition still) to play with my presents in the living room. My mum comes in and listens to me babbling to my first oldest brother Dominic about how my bike is going to be so much better than his, I'll go faster than him, I'll be the coolest girl in the world as I've got such a cool bike and so on. Looking back now I can picture the moment where a lightbulb went on over her head and she had an "oh fucksox" moment as she realised her error. She covered it well though and I went to bed smiling and happiness waiting for the 4am start to the day.

4am I jump out of bed, run down the stairs to find all my family there in a circle looking worried. I scan the room for my precious bike or bike shaped present. I don't see it. I run out to the shed to see if they moved it in there overnight (I'd been checking all the hiding spots religiously throughout December and couldn't figure out where she's hidden it). It's not in there either.

Eventually I came back into the living room and look at my dad expectantly, willing him to conjure it up out of thin air for me. He cleared his throat and said the immortal words, "Becky, I think we might have messed up a bit" (or something like that, I can't really remember) and stood back to reveal this.

www.amazon.com/Disney-Princess-12-Girls-Bike/dp/B00068435E

Gutted doesn't go nearly far enough to describe me until December 30th when the delivery company's mistake was rectified.
( fuck shit up the best you never had, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 19:36, 5 replies)

Dr Suess.
was far funnier, when I was a kid.
(snowboardrob, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 19:05, 2 replies)

My first
Wife. Very dissapointing.
(snowboardrob, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 19:03, 1 reply)

Growing up and realising
I would never have super powers.


Fucking gutted.
( wanderlust, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 19:03, 4 replies)

Puberty.
Oh yes, I know, everyone goes through hell. But most people come out of the other side.

Puberty came and went, and the expected changes happened. Voice deepened. Hair grew.

But one thing didn't.

And I realised, far too late, that I wasn't just 'a late developer', or a 'grower not a shower'.

I had a micropenis.

It's on wikipedia. Look it up, but it's pretty much what you'd imagine.

About 2.5 inches at most.

So there I am, despairing, when the AIDS thing comes along. The government puts out lots of leaflets and runs adverts about 'safer sex'. One of the main things it mentioned frequently was that "sex doesn't have to involve penetration - it can just as pleasurable for both partners with massage, touch, licking etc."

This gives me hope. Maybe things aren't so bad. Maybe I can still have relationships with women.

But there was one problem.

It was a lie.

I leave my shitty little boys school, and go to university. I start to meet women. Some of them like me.

I'm 19 the first time I go to bed with someone. I'm so lacking in confidence that I've avoided getting too involved before. But I like her - she seems relaxed and confident, and ready to take things slowly because I'm nervous.

I undress. She laughs. She leaves. I cry all night.

I try to put it down to experience. Maybe I misjudged her. Maybe other women will be OK. With other women, it will be OK. Please God it HAS to be OK.

I start relationships with other women. Most are sympathetic. "It's OK" they say, unconvincingly. "It's fine. We can do plenty of other things". And for a few weeks we do. But it's not fine. Eventually they all leave. Some make excuses. Some are honest - "it's just not enough for me". One or two find it funny to tell all their friends and snigger at me, waving their pinkies.

Each time I die a little inside. I realise I can't have relationships with women.

And I never have since. I have plenty of girl friends, but no girlfriends. And I have to turn some down when they want more. They think I don't like/fancy them or whatever. I lose a few friends over it.

As for me, I cope. I have a job, friends, a life. I know some of my friends think I'm gay because I never have a girlfriend. Sometimes they have conversations about 'coming out' while giving me meaningful looks. It's partly hilarious and partly tragic.

I cope. I have to. I have no choice. There's a Perry Bible Fellowship cartoon that sums up rather nicely how I feel most of the time:



The best way I can describe it is that I can imagine what it feels like to be illiterate. Lacking the ability to do something that is so common that it is deeply entwined with the way everyone lives their lives, yet having no visible 'disability'. And being deeply deeply ashamed.

I still feel the disappointment, the despair, the hopelessness of that moment of realisation when I was 16 - I still feel it 20 years later.

Apologies for lack of funny. I won't make a length joke either if it's all the same.
(ragged, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 19:00, 26 replies)

France
.
Well, not the whole country, I suppose. Just the bit we went to. Some shitty campsite in the south.

Getting there was most definitely not half the fun. Not in this case. Four people, two weeks' luggage (including food) in a Ford Cortina Estate. One of the four people (big brother) gets car-sick. Very car-sick.

By the time we got to Dover, I'd had enough and wanted to go home. No dice. The ferry was fun for me and dad, but poor mum spent the entire time holding my brother's head as we realised he got sea-sick too. Very sea-sick.

Having driven most of the length of Britain, we set off to drive most of the length of France. Mum had only just passed her test, but insisted on sharing the driving. We ended up so lost that at one point we were heading back north again. We got to the campsite at stupid o'clock in the morning, and found our "luxury" tent by torchlight.

The next day dawned, a Sunday, and we were up bright and early. Brother and I headed straight for the swimming pool, only to find the French kids from the local village had got there first. And they weren't sharing. We got ducked repeatedly until we gave in and trudged back to the tent. We moped about a bit, then were loaded into the car to go for a drive. Yes, just after driving halfway across Europe, my brother puking all the way, mum and dad decide to go for a drive. Yay us.

The days took on a sort of inevitability. Get up early, go to the pool, get half drowned by obnoxious French kids, go back to the tent, get into the car, drive around, stop for a puke-break, look around yet another wee village, back to the campsite for dinner. Rinse and repeat. Until the start of the second week.

Some new people had arrived on the Sunday, and they had kids our ages! Yeehah. Someone to play with (no, not that way). All was well until their mum started handing round lunch. She included my brother and I, giving us each a big bowl of some odd-looking stuff. I dug right in, thinking "Mmmm, never had this before. Wonder what it is?" It was prawn cocktail, and that, dear reader, was when we discovered that I am allergic to shellfish. Oops.

I spent the next 48 hours in a strange little clinic, run by French nurses with not a word of English between them. The doctor spoke some English but I only saw him for about five minutes, while he injected me with adrenalin (there was something else as well, but I don't remember). My parents weren't allowed to stay, and had to stick rigidly to visiting times. By the time they were ready to let me go, I was about ready to dig my way out with a spoon.

The only upside was when we got back to the campsite. All the British campers got together and threw a little party. At the pool. Faced with a mob, the French kids buggered off home. I was a minor celebrity, having been carted off in an ambulance, and was the centre of attention. I enjoyed that party.

My memories of France, then? The smell of Calais harbour (not nice). The smell of my brother puking (not nice). The smell of the mangy old tent we were sleeping in (not nice). The attitude of the local French to the British visitors (not nice).

It was our first ever trip abroad, and our last for several more years. We looked forward to it for months. We hated it.

Sorry France. It's not personal. But I'm never coming back (as they heave a sigh of relief).
(TheWeeWitch hasn't been here much recently .., Thu 26 Jun 2008, 18:22, 1 reply)

Blue
lots fo things have disappointed me so far.
First of all, I have just finished school so now I have a load of time off, but I am so bored, I thought it would be really good having all this time off but it is really boring. And for some strange reason the colour blue is going through my head all the time, I don't know why, it just does.......oh well I think I'm just gonna have to listen to some more Bowie.
I wish i had tickets to Glastonbury.
And the weather is so bloody typical, call it Summer, I know I don't.
(CupofCoco, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 18:22, 2 replies)

Mexico.
So about two years ago the Lunatic Artist and I had just barely met- we first spoke in late January/early February, and this was in April- when chance brought us a unique adventure.

Mexico.

She lived about an hour north of me at the time, and had worked for a utility company up there for years. As you do, she had signed up for one of those "clubs" they have on the radio stations- "Join the Workforce and if we call your name, call us to get your prize!"- and thought nothing of it until the radio station called her name. A co-worker alerted her, and ten minutes later she had won a chance for a trip to Mexico. That weekend she took part in a silly contest and won a trip for two to Cabo San Lucas for five nights and four days. Result!

We made all the needed arrangements, got on the plane, did an interminable flight across the US, arrived and were taken to the resort we were to stay in.

No complaints about the resort itself, really- it was clean, there was lots of excellent food and all you could drink, all included in what she had won. The people running the place were all actually quite nice to a pair of Yankees who spoke no Spanish, maybe due to the fact that we smiled a lot and were polite and courteous to them as well. Only one little hitch- this was like Disney Mexico.

We both felt thoroughly disappointed by this.

However, chance swung our way again. It turned out that this was a timeshare resort. We were told that if we sat through their sales routine (about 90 minutes) that they would provide us with either a couple of bottles of high-end tequila or two days' use of a car.

We passed on the tequila.

We spent the next two days driving up the coast of the Baja Peninsula and getting away from the tourist crap. We got out and walked through the desert (full of spiny things that hurt if you brushed against them), saw little roadside shrines with candles burning in them in front of statues of Jesus and Mary (how come no one ever prays to Joseph, anyway?), and walked along deserted rocky chunks of coastline under the brilliant sun. We had beer at Sammy Hagar's bar, wandered through a Mexican open air market and bought some jewelry, got tequila from a man with a deep booming voice who looked a lot like Nathan Lane but gave us excellent advice on which one to buy, and laughed at the Monkey Spunk tattoo parlor. (Honest- I'll post pics later to prove it!) And at the end of the day we went back to the resort and ate our fill and slept like the dead, then got up and did it again.

It was perfect.

On our last night there we swam around in the pool, drinking beer we got from the poolside bar, and looked at the other people there. I saw drunken frat-boy types, sullen NYC Jewish wives with leathery brown skin and bouffant hair, families with small kids... and all of them looked bored out of their skulls and disappointed by life. And I'd bet that not one of them ever set foot off of the resort.

I'll gladly go back to Mexico one day, but by god it's going to be to some obscure place where I can rent a car and drive around and actually see the place!

Avoid disappointment. Take note of what everyone else is doing and what they expect you to be doing, and do something else. It's well worth the effort.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Thu 26 Jun 2008, 18:17, 5 replies)

India...
is shit. Don't ever go there.

Nepal, on the other hand, is superb.
(Mr. Partyhat, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 18:16, 5 replies)

Blue Slushpuppy

( WormuIus, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 18:10, Reply)

everytime.....
i go to bed wanting sex and the git is asleep
( sarah sarah sarah, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 18:05, 4 replies)

English summer
Why do you call it summer? Is always raining!!! All the time! Like now.

I want to go home...
(Aberracion Life's getting very complicated, but a lot of fun., Thu 26 Jun 2008, 18:04, 4 replies)

In a word: University
All through high school I was indoctrinated. "Go to university!", they said. "You will graduate and earn much money! Did you know that starting salaries are around £20,000 a year for a graduate?"

University was the thing to be aimed for. You'd get it all! 4 years of playing around doing nothing much and drinking copiously. On graduating careers would be for the picking! And the salaries exceptional.

Now I realise this sounded all too good to be true, but they kept telling us this. Teachers, parents, careers folk, even previous school leavers. I didn't think to question it.

So in September 2001 I puttered off to uni. I was miserable. I hated the people who were there (mostly). But still I hung on, in the knowledge that without uni, I could have no career.

I graduated in 2005, several thousands of pounds in debt. And couldn't get a fecking job that didn't pay minimum wage.

I didn't have *experience*.

So several thousands of pounds and wasted hours later, I'd have been just as well fucking leaving school and getting a job.

I've still never earned £20,000 a year, although have worked in the games industry. I got that job cause I like games and not because I have a fecking degree.

University was by far and away my biggest disappointment.

P.S. My boyfriend graduates tomorrow. Congratulations sweetie...and now for the crushing disappointment.

Apologies for length, but I have to use my essay writing skills for something.
(The Oncoming Storm, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 18:02, 8 replies)

Indiana Funting Jones and the Funting Kingdom of the Crystal Funting Skull
It was all going reasonably well until Indy escaped from the catastrophic effects of a thermonuclear explosion by hiding in a flying 'fridge. Utter toss (well, except for the good bits).
(the_legendary_shark isn't really legendary at all, just rather dull., Thu 26 Jun 2008, 18:01, 9 replies)

today I went to get my drivers licence!
and I failed miserably...
the worst part of it is that I made a lot of plans and Now everyones angry at me since I can't drive. so now I'm sitting at home with my Mom giving her "I told you so" speech And I'm beginning to wonder how it can get much worst. (sadly I have more because my life has been just one big disappointment after another)
edit: it did get worse, I set up another appointment and its going to be a month before I can drive. FUCK!
(Rated Arrr for pirates and nudity, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 18:00, 7 replies)

I just drove past
a sign that said "Badgers for 2 miles". It's been 2 miles and there have been no badgers.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 17:57, 8 replies)

Hentai
Goes from shy girls talking about sex like silly babies to octopuses raping ladies, nothing in between.

Although I have to admit that sex slave is not too bad.
(Aberracion Life's getting very complicated, but a lot of fun., Thu 26 Jun 2008, 17:56, Reply)