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Profile for Stallion_Explosion (formerly known as crab_bloke):
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Recent front page messages:

What ya drawing little fella?


It's a monkey isn't it?
(Mon 4th Oct 2004, 13:44, More)

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(Fri 11th Jul 2003, 11:00, More)

Clever Kitty

(Sat 24th May 2003, 13:55, More)

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(Thu 3rd Apr 2003, 18:38, More)

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(Tue 1st Apr 2003, 22:19, More)

1st July 1916, The Somme
Sickeningly, there were those amongst the troops who seemed to take a macabre pleasure from the act of killing

(Wed 5th Mar 2003, 0:54, More)

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(Sun 19th Jan 2003, 20:09, More)

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(Fri 21st Jun 2002, 13:29, More)

Arson Cat
Was pleased with his night's work

(Tue 18th Jun 2002, 16:23, More)

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(Thu 9th May 2002, 15:33, More)

Best answers to questions:

» School Trips

Beauvais Skate Doom
I went on a couple of French exchanges to Beauvais, in France. I guess this time I would have been around 14.

There was a girl I fancied at the time going, and her French exchange partner fancied me, so we hung around together a bit. One day we went ice skating. The 2 girls both knew how to skate, but I had never been before.

After a while of floundering around at the side of the rink, they both came over, and grabbed a hand each. Then they proceeded to pull me around the rink at high speed, which they both thought was hilarious. However, one of them let go, causing me to spin and immediately lose my balance.

As I fell, I reflexively flailed my arms and grabbed out, taking Charlotte (the English one) down with me.

She banged the back of her head hard against the ice. I laughed and tried to pull her up, but she seemed dazed and disoriented, so we went back to the benches at the side to wait for her to recover properly.

After a while it became obvious that rather than getting better, she was getting vaguer and vaguer. We started to worry, and the French girl called her mother, who was a doctor. After a while she arrived, and took one quick look at Charlotte, and then immediately erupted into a whirlwind of activity.

She had to be rushed to hospital immediately, she said. As the only person who could speak both French and English, I went along as translator. The front seat of the car was flattened back as flat as it would go, and I sat in the back while the doctor screeched through Beauvais at rally-driver pace.

She kept shouting to me (in French obviously) "Keep her talking! Don't let her go to sleep!" and so, with increasing anxiety, I tried to keep her talking "what's your name, where are you" sort of stuff. She got quieter and quieter, muttering "it's because of the weather, it's because of the weather" over and over again.

After a while, she went quiet for a bit, then opened her eyes and took off her ring, which had a flower on it, and gave it to me, saying "look after the flower" - then her eyes closed and she went limp.

No matter how frantically I babbled at her, I could not get her to regain consciousness. She was well and truly out. I was beginning to realise that I had killed her at this point.

We got to the hospital, and a stretcher was rushed out, and we wheeled her in. We had to spend a few minutes waiting for the X-Ray room before anything could be done.

There was incidental muzak piped through a tannoy. Suddenly Charlotte's eyes flicked open. She stared straight into my eyes and asked

"Is that the angels singing?"

then she slumped back again. "Oh holy fucking shit" I thought- "even she thinks she's dead."

Then they wheeled her into the X-ray room, and I spent the next 15 minutes pacing arouind the waiting room, trying to process the fact that I had just accidentally killed my friend.

Eventually the doctor came back in. She looked very concerned, but still a bit relieved. I asked her whether Charlotte was alive. "Yes, she'll live" she told me. "But she has broken her neck."

I went to see her after a day or 2. She had a cast from her chin to her waist. She didn't look well or happy, but I was just incredibly relieved she was alive. Eventually they sent her back to England, and then she was out of the cast and into a brace, and then eventually she was perfectly OK, but of course I could never really have a proper conversation with her again. She didn't blame me - to be honest I think I was the only one who really blamed myself, but still, blame myself I did.

Anyway, at least she survived.

When I got back to England my mum had been ice skating, and had torn ligaments in her leg, crippling her for ages.

So there you go - the moral of the story is never go ice-skating, for it is satan's passtime.
(Thu 14th Dec 2006, 12:21, More)

» Have you ever started a fire?

A few years ago
I was in the habit of sitting infront of my fan-heater on the floor, under a towel after a night out, having a last fag before going to bed. One night I came home and went through the usual routine, but fell asleep in the process.

I came to, very drowsily wondering what the uncomfortable sensation in my leg was. It got less and less comfortable, then suddenly turned into a sharp pain. I opened my eyes and realised that the towel I was under had blocked the fan heater and caught fire. I screamed loudly in shock and jumped up, then realising that my trousers were also on fire. I managed to rip off the blazing strides, and jumped up and down on them and the towel in some panic, shouting all the while.

I escaped without serious injury, but needless to say was not popular with my housemates for almost burning everyone to death in the middle of the night. I no longer have a fan heater.
(Wed 3rd Mar 2004, 1:03, More)