Stinky Salvation
I went trekking in the Guatamalan rainforest during my gap-year. All I took with me was my wallett, passport, a swiss-army-knife and a few pictures of Fern Britton posing nude.

It may be thought that I was a little ill-prepared. This was, however, not the case at all. Secreted in the waistband of my underpants, was my last resort. My one wild-card, to be used only if I became stuck in a life or death situation. A phone number. Now, this number wasn't for my mum, it wasn't for the British Embassy, it wasn't even for the local police. The number was for the emergency service that the emergency services call when they're totally fucked.

G.R.A.-S.S. - The Geordie Retrieval Allies - Smokin' Squadron.
These lads are very secretive. Known to only a handful of people across the globe, they are able to do things and go places that no other humans can achieve. I was fortunate to be considered a 'friend-of-a-friend'.

My shit storm started when I angered some tribal natives by seducing their villages most prized virgin. Minjee Chowdown, she was called. She had a sweet arse and a cracking pair of tits (although floppy from the typical bra-less state of tribal ladies). I didn't really suss their lingo, but i got the impression that their witch doctor was going to use every trick up his sleeve to separate me from my testicles. I ran through the jungle for 3 days until I found a road, then another 8 hours until I got to a phone. I pleasured a smelly gashed shopkeeper for a few coins and made my call to 'G.R.A.-S.S.'

I could taste the relief (among the aftertaste of smelly gash) when I was informed that Howway Hinny was in my area on a surveillance job and would pick me up that same day. The wait was tense, especially toward the end when Howway was approaching from one end of the street and the angry tribe advanced from the other while performing some sort of ritual.

When only 50 yards or so separated the two deadly forces, a native catapulted something toward Howway. It left a trail of strange wispy green vapour as it streaked toward its target. Howway didn't even flinch as the object hit and spattered across his torso. I did more than flinch as the weapons effect revealed itself. Howway stunk like a pair of curtains dipped into stagnant pondwater weekly and hung to dry in a YMCA bathroom in between dunkings.

Howway gave a few of those local lads a slap, gave me a telling-off, and seen me safely to the airport. The only payment or thanks he would accept for his life-saving heroic stink-shield actions were the naked piccies of Fern Britton.


I gladly surrendered them to my MUSTY RESCUERS' POSSESSION.
(Greencloud Wanted to go fishing on, Thu 15 May 2008, 15:08, Reply)

Boooooooord!
I'm so bored that I've been trying to re-open an old belly button peircing with my letter opener.

Please change the qotw before I do some real damage.
( girlinthehole, Thu 15 May 2008, 15:07, 10 replies)

*contentious*
Here is a tale of infidelity, Victorian authors and culinary disasters; My missus is German and an accomplished cook. She also occasionally forgets the English word for things and so reverts to the German. When I was younger, I was ruthlessly unfaithful to her and either she didn't know or care or she has chosen to forgive me but she has never chastised me for it. I havent done it in ages which is why I have the following treasured possession of those bygone naughty days. I would insensitively talk to my mistress of my missuses culinary prowess and it became a bone of contention with her so one day I urged her to cook me something the equal of my missuses and bring it to one of our dangerous liaisons. She took the challenge and asked me what I would like. I told her my favourite author was Edgar Allen Poe and I was very fond of a little treat the missus made which she had discovered whilst reading 'The Murders In The Rue Morgue' where a page had been marked by a recipe from a magazine. I gave my mistress the recipe and encouraged her to present it to me at our next meeting. She did and it was vile, not that I told her that but when my missus makes them to this day they still bring me a frisson of those bygone days when I was younger, hornier and given to subduing women to my whims;

ah yes, I am very fond of her 'Mistress-urged Poe's essen'
(bazmorningstar efil4nat3b, Thu 15 May 2008, 15:00, 1 reply)

...
This QoTW is becoming a treasured possession. It's been in my life for so long now that I can't really remember a time when it wasn't there. I just don't know what I'd do without it.



















But I'm willing to find out.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 15 May 2008, 14:41, 14 replies)

My most treasured possesion
I once spent a week at my grandparent's house. I forced my grandad to spend all week pretending to be a pirate with me. He even built me a wooden scimitar from a branch of an old oak tree.

It's my most tree-sword possession.
(TinyDinosaur, Thu 15 May 2008, 14:23, Reply)

Weird collections
A very good friend of mine, a chap by the name of John is somewhat eccentric and likes to collect obscure memorabilia and bric-a-brac.

A few months ago, he decided to show me his collection of Victorian chamber pots, some of which were very ornate and expensive antiques.

He ushered me over to his cabinet and carefully pulled out a large porcelain pot, lovingly painted with a hunting motif. It had been an heirloom belonging to an aristocratic family and was reputed to have been used by none other than Prince Albert himself.

"It's my most treasured Po" said John.
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Thu 15 May 2008, 14:17, 6 replies)

When I was in scouts
Many years ago. I found myself 'caught short' whilst orienteering.

There were fields for miles and it was all so open, so I just kept on moving.

Eventually I came across a small wooded area, a grove if you like.

The relief I felt was amazing squatting next to that tree whilst I curled one out.

It was My Most Tree Assured Pooh Session I've ever had.

Way Hey
(never-right -getting it wrong since '78, Thu 15 May 2008, 14:07, Reply)

And another...
My next-door neighbour built a giant bedside toilet outside my front door. This made me so angry that I was possessed with rage. With my bare fists, I pummelled the offending latrine to the ground while he stood back and watched helplessly. That was my "must raze your po" session.

Edit: Yay! Hat-trick!
( mistaspakkaman and the inedible shifting caterpillars, Thu 15 May 2008, 13:55, Reply)

During an orgy
I accidentally turned on the TV which was showing a documentary about Mrs. Thatcher. This put me off my stroke and I instantly lost wood. That was my most razed super session.
( mistaspakkaman and the inedible shifting caterpillars, Thu 15 May 2008, 13:51, Reply)

A pun entirely in English this time.
You know that Austrian guy who locked his kids up in the cellar? Now that they've been exposed to sunlight, they act strangely. Most rays sure possess 'em.
( mistaspakkaman and the inedible shifting caterpillars, Thu 15 May 2008, 13:39, Reply)

Whilst in France i purchased an expensive fish...
It was my most.....

tres cher poisson!

_badum-tish
(jmaxi returned again on, Thu 15 May 2008, 13:38, 1 reply)

On the island of Java
I missed the train but instead, found a load of unused dinner-trays and slid along the downhill Javanese train-tracks. Due to friction, they wore out quickly so I had to keep replacing the trays. That was my most trays sepur session.
( mistaspakkaman and the inedible shifting caterpillars, Thu 15 May 2008, 13:24, Reply)

I'm thinking of burning down this QOTW
and I hope no-one rescues it from the fire.

I also might stop by the M1 on my way home: news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/northamptonshire/7402291.stm
(Half of Stephen Fry's right buttock pissed on your dog on, Thu 15 May 2008, 13:05, 5 replies)

ah fuck it
is anal sex a pleasured poo session?
(Halfy By light alone, Thu 15 May 2008, 13:04, 4 replies)

went to boots today
for a facial peel, and while I was there picked up some of those new-fangled and popular TRESemme hair products and a deodorant.

Was a Tre&Sure pore session

(thats about it, im shit punned out)
(Halfy By light alone, Thu 15 May 2008, 13:01, Reply)

Ahem...
I met someone in the pub last weekend - you know one of these chinese people who offer crappy dodgy deals. Well anyway, I think his name was Po Se Shun. So after showing me flyers about what he offers I agreed to meet him in the woods to thrash out a deal.

Come monday morning I went to the woods where the transaction was to take place. £100 this bastard cost me. What was I buying? Why, a german prostitute/sex-slave thats what.

Now you may know that the feds are cracking down on people-laundering and of course sex slaves have a bad rep now with recent happenings in Austria (not far from Germany!) so unfortunately this illegal deal was captured by a surveillance microphone set up in one of the old Oaks.

You could say this is an incident where Trees-heard possess-hun.


(Oh dear god)
( whenanimalsattackhumans clad in global hypercolour, Thu 15 May 2008, 12:54, 5 replies)

My parents' house is badly-built
Some of the ornaments have a tendency to slide across the mantlepiece and are in danger of falling off and breaking.

However, it's possible to increase the friction and keep them in place by standing said baubles on serving platters.

Thus they come to occupy a tray-shored position.



EDIT: Hat-trick! Yay!
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 15 May 2008, 12:38, 3 replies)

I got a job at Comedy Central
The best job I ever had was when I was a producer for South Park. I used to see the guys behind the show, Trey Parker and Matt Stone, every day for meetings. Stone, for one, didn't really like me, and was trying to engineer my dismissal. However, I got on well with Parker, who gave me his personal word that he was going to make sure I could stay in the job for as long as I wanted it.

It was a Trey-assured position.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 15 May 2008, 12:21, 10 replies)

...
The house across the road is up for sale or lease. This is because it was - apparently - uninsured, and when a tree in the garden fell down and took a gable end with it, the family could only afford to make the repairs by skimping on their mortgage. The bank didn't like this, and instigated legal procedures to take ownership of the property.

It's a tree-sheared repossession.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 15 May 2008, 12:11, Reply)

Don't really have a treasured possession
EXCEPT MY COCK LOLOLOLOL.


(Sorry for that).
(Maccy Divided by 0 on, Thu 15 May 2008, 12:06, Reply)

My exorcism...
After the devil took over my soul and thus claimed control over my earthly body, my loved ones sought help from numerous sources. In the end, they were directed to Paris, to the finest exorcist in Europe.

The whole procedure took a long time and his fee was exorbitant. You could say it was a trés cher possession.
(LongJohnBaldry, Thu 15 May 2008, 12:02, Reply)

If you don't like puns, I suggest you look away...
In my youth, I was a bit of a sailor. No, not like that, you dirty buggers.

It started small – leaping in to a rowing boat with nothing but a backpack stuffed with jaffa cakes and ginger beer and lazily floating down the river. Gradually, things got larger – from sailing in the estuary on little clippers, to becoming a crew member on a catamaran. I’ve sailed on passenger ferries and oil tankers, luxury yachts and canal barges – all of which ultimately led me to become a qualified Skipper.

For my first feat, I decided that I would try to set the record for sailing around the world single handed. Many tried to dissuade me, but I shook off their concerns. I got sponsored, got a boat, and on one sunny morning I set off from Portsmouth and my journey had begun.
After 2 weeks at sea, and heading for Cape Horn, I sailed straight in to the biggest storm I’ve ever seen. The sea was building giant walls of water around me, which would come crashing down on my little boat and throw me around like a twig. The wind howled, the rain lashed and the lightning seemed to be tearing the very sky asunder.

I prepared myself for the worst. I prepared for death.

And then, almost as quickly as it began, the storm was over. I was sat on a sea as flat as a mill-pond, there was no wind, and I wasn’t going anywhere. Looking over the port side, I saw a small island around 100 metres away. Checking my maps, there was nothing charted, so where on Earth was I?

I weighed anchor, dropped a dinghy, and rowed over. The Island was surrounded by gorgeous white sand – but unusually it housed a forest of tall, thin trees. I stepped ashore, fascinated at this marvel of nature.
All of a sudden a rope was thrown around me, and I found myself swiftly and expertly bound to a tree. My foes stepped out – hundreds, maybe thousands, of tiny people – like the gnomes from truckers. They swarmed up my body, and one crept up to my ear and spoke in clear, crisp English:

“Who are you?” He said.

“I’m the Devil,” I said “The Devil In Tights.”

A hush fell over the people. Eyes stared at me, fingers twitched nervously on tiny weapons. And then – the sound of laiughter.

“The prophecy!” they chanted “The Chosen One has come to save us!”

Quick as a flash, they cut my ropes. I was borne aloft along the shore, weaving between the trees... Towards a giant throne made of rubies and emeralds and gold.

Yes, friends – that was my Tree-Shored Procession.

*dies*
( Devil_In_Tights the *real* DiT!, Thu 15 May 2008, 12:00, 2 replies)

join 'em
My mate Therese met Midge Ure in a Royal Mail sorting office.

It was a most Therese/Ure-ed post-session.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Thu 15 May 2008, 11:57, 3 replies)

If you can't beat 'em...
.
I once made a shack out of a tree. Sadly, a ghost came to live in it.

It was a tree-shed possession.

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Thu 15 May 2008, 11:55, 2 replies)

Arrrrghh me hearties
my most treasured possesions are actually forcibly possessed treasures.

if my house (galleon) burnt down, i would just try and get to my treasure stash on a secret island. Then rebuild my pirate empire from there.

#Shakes hook hand at you all!!#
( bazza van der trance , ooh baby baby, baby baby. Get up on this., Thu 15 May 2008, 11:43, Reply)

One day
I was walking down the road and I felt a strange cramp in my stomach.

Suddenly my body defied the laws of physics, my arms inverted in on themselves, kidneys moved both into the past and future, and legs became 19 dimensional.

Stranded as I was a gentleman came along and sketched me as i was, made a copy for me and then wandered off

I returned to normal eventually but will always remember my treasured pose for Escher
(Halfy By light alone, Thu 15 May 2008, 11:26, Reply)

Pet Peeve
Waiting for the QOTW to change... and when people answer the wrong QOTW :)
(Miggyman, Thu 15 May 2008, 11:13, 2 replies)

Treasured Possession
Well I suppose my most treasured possessions are the memories I have of my family....

And my music...I love my music...if it was a choice between going deaf or blind then I know it would be blindness!

hang on how would I watch all my pr0n if I was blind! sod that take my ears instead!
(Lip Up Fatty Fatty Reggae still loves BBQ food on, Thu 15 May 2008, 9:37, 1 reply)

Treasured Possession
For me my vast collection of beer is a treasured possession.

Unfortunately if I drink too much of it not only am I guaranteed to mix my words but also my cock will be droopiest as sureness.

its an anagram. please try and keep up
( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Thu 15 May 2008, 9:08, Reply)

Stephen H
My Wheelchair!





I'll get my coat
(The Sitmpwa, Thu 15 May 2008, 5:19, Reply)