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Profile for barryheadwound:
Profile Info:

Bloke. Manchester. Old enough to know better.

Did one of these once. Quite like how it turned out.



Proudly:







Smallbrainfield awarded me this for the Day of the Ghosts. Ta. It was a blast.



This took fucking AGES











Kindly vintaged up by prodigy69

One man Haynes bandwagon...



































Awarded this for generally being a fat git and popping down to the Chinese buffet for lunch one day:



RIP Jessie







Recent front page messages:



(Fri 8th Nov 2013, 10:23, More)

One discovered this. One rather feels that it ought to triumph in this endeavour.


EDIT Awww thanks peeps :o)

EDIT EDIT w00t FP!!!
(Thu 10th Jan 2013, 13:21, More)



(Thu 6th Sep 2012, 12:36, More)

DAMMIT!


JUST got that finished and raced over in the hopes that nobody would have got in first.

EDIT Wow. Insta-FP. Thanks. A meagre tribute to an utter legend.

Not just Blockbusters
(Fri 6th Jan 2012, 13:49, More)

Have this NWOT

(Mon 21st Nov 2011, 10:39, More)

Another in similar vein...


Pretty sure something very like this has been done in a prior compo, and aApologies for posting two similar pics in such rapid succession.

I think this is where my deja vu is coming from, and in hindsight the punchline was mine so I hereby claim the gag! Where is Evilscary these days anyhow?
(Thu 15th Apr 2010, 10:55, More)

Humm...

(Thu 23rd Apr 2009, 11:30, More)



(Thu 26th Mar 2009, 13:52, More)

Best answers to questions:

» B3ta Person of the Year 2010

Jessie
Massively loved b3tan and Derby Bash supremo tragically taken from us in May of this year, and Prof Kenny Martin who faces the daily bummer of life without her. Mrs. Trellis for sorting out the whipround that realised over 2 grand in her memory. And Jahled for christening a baby snow leopard after her.

Also - cr3. 'Cos let's face it this entire Forum would fall apart at the seams without him giving up his time to keep it going...
(Thu 16th Dec 2010, 11:47, More)

» House Guests

Does a trespasser in the garden count as a houseguest?
Sod it - it'll do.

A balmy summer evening in Headwound Towers. Headwound senior is the main protagonist here, rather than me, who was but a toddler at the time. Warm, muggy conditions and pretty much every window on the first floor open to allow what breeze there was a chance to circulate.

Papa Headwound, suddenly, is awakened by the noise of someone moving furtively in the garden. That unmistakeable sound of someone trying to move without making any noise - you'll be familiar with it I'm sure. So he sits up in bed, listening to the sounds drifting in through the open windows until he's convinced it's a human in the garden, as opposed to say a cat, or an incontinent fox.

He then gets out of bed, moves over to the open window, through which he sticks his head to remonstrate with the intruder.

Cut to intruder's perspective...

The tranquil night air is rent by the sound of shattering glass, as an Army Major's head bursts through the, emphatically not open, window, and busts forth with the first few syllables of a vitriolic stream of commentary on the finer points of land ownership and rights of access, initially delivered in full parade ground voice, but tailing off rather abruptly into a kind of strangled squawk.

The tranquil night air suddenly becomes tranquil once more, broken only by the gentle pattering of shards of glass landing on the flower border, as said head, commentary aborted before it's even got into its stride, is gingerly withdrawn through the hole in the pane.

Three minutes later, now decided on a more measured approach to the situation, Dad emerges from the back door, clad in dressing gown and packing Mum's 7 iron.

Unsurprisingly, the intruder was no longer on the premises.

I think we can conclude an effective, if somewhat inadvisable, burglar deterrent.
(Mon 10th Jan 2011, 12:03, More)

» Bodge Jobs

Less of a bodge job than a coming of age ritual...
Bought our first house earlier this year - Victorian terrace. Needed a whole load of work doing, including getting a radiator moved and a bunch of dead pipe taken out from under the floors.

The plumbers came and went - all good. Mrs. H went off on a Saturday to catch up with a mate leaving me to sort everything out after them.

I was in the middle of replacing the floorboards when I put a nail right through the brand new radiator spur I'd just had installed.

There are 2 lessons in this:

1 - Do not do it.
2 - If you're stupid enough to do it, then leave the nail where it is until you have taken the pressure off your heating system.

I failed on both counts, put the nail through the pipe, and as soon as I heard the water hissing I yanked the nail out, thereby breaking the partial seal it had created and causing the entire pressure of the central heating system to discharge over me, the walls and ceiling.

So I then - completely unnecessarily as it happens, turned off the water at the main and drained off every drop of water from the whole house. An overreaction yeah, but I wasn't thinking most clearly at the time.

I then did what any calm and rational man does in such a circumstance - started wandering up and down the street swearing profusely under my breath, wondering what the bloody hell I was going to do and how I was going to explain to the missus that we had no water and would need to call out a plumber to sort this schoolboy bloody error of mine out. Thinking as a minimum a weekend callout and replace the entire length of pipe... Expense... Fear...

When suddenly...

I passed a van marked "JBW Building Services" (www.jbwbuildingservices.co.uk - I carry their card to this day). In hope against hope I rang the number on the side of the van. Heard the answering voice in my phone, and also in my free ear coming from round the side of the house the van was next to. Not daring to think that there might be a way out of my stupidity, I located the guy in the yard. Turns out he was just in the neighbourhood doing a bit of work for his ex. I explained my predicament and threw myself at his mercy.

Half an hour later he's round at my house. Rather than replace the length of pipe he cut a small length of slightly wider pipe, removed the section where my nail had buckled the original pipe, and soldered a very neat little cuff over the site of the damage. Everything then refilled, up to pressure, good as new.

I had to physically press a tenner on him for this service - he'd happily have walked out of the door with nothing.

By the time the missus got home, I had everything cleaned up and dried off, the boards back in place, and no evidence whatsoever of my complete idiocy. It would have been the perfect crime, but I 'fessed up, purely because I just had to tell someone!

John - you don't strike me as a b3ta person, but if you are and you read this, then know that you are a god among men.
(Thu 10th Mar 2011, 16:18, More)

» MTFU

My folks live in that there countryside.
You know - full of farms and wildlife and such like. For a while they kept chickens for a bit of recreation, free eggs and the like.

As animals do from time to time, one of them got ill. The folks separated her from the rest of the flock so that nothing would spread - did all the right sorts of things, but it became apparent that this chook was on a downward slope.

Dad didn't have it in him to wring the chicken (to be fair I doubt I would have either). Resulting in:

A visit to the vet,

In a farming community,

With a chicken,

To have it put down.

I'm not sure that he ever fully felt he could hold his head up high in the town after that.

EDIT Bonus points for completely failing to read the question, anyone?
(Tue 6th Aug 2013, 13:11, More)

» Random Acts of Kindness

Repost (originally from the botched jobs question if that isn't self-evident)
Bought our first house earlier this last year - Victorian terrace. Needed a whole load of work doing, including getting a radiator moved and a bunch of dead pipe taken out from under the floors.

The plumbers came and went - all good. Mrs. H went off on a Saturday to catch up with a mate leaving me to sort everything out after them.

I was in the middle of replacing the floorboards when I put a nail right through the brand new radiator spur I'd just had installed.

There are 2 lessons in this:

1 - Do not do it.
2 - If you're stupid enough to do it, then leave the nail where it is until you have taken the pressure off your heating system.

I failed on both counts, put the nail through the pipe, and as soon as I heard the water hissing I yanked the nail out, thereby breaking the partial seal it had created and causing the entire pressure of the central heating system to discharge over me, the walls and ceiling.

So I then - completely unnecessarily as it happens, turned off the water at the main and drained off every drop of water from the whole house. An overreaction yeah, but I wasn't thinking most clearly at the time.

I then did what any calm and rational man does in such a circumstance - started wandering up and down the street swearing profusely under my breath, wondering what the bloody hell I was going to do and how I was going to explain to the missus that we had no water and would need to call out a plumber to sort this schoolboy bloody error of mine out. Thinking as a minimum a weekend callout and replace the entire length of pipe... Expense... Fear...

When suddenly...

I passed a van marked "JBW Building Services" (www.jbwbuildingservices.co.uk - I carry their card to this day). In hope against hope I rang the number on the side of the van. Heard the answering voice in my phone, and also in my free ear coming from round the side of the house the van was next to. Not daring to think that there might be a way out of my stupidity, I located the guy in the yard. Turns out he was just in the neighbourhood doing a bit of work for his ex. I explained my predicament and threw myself at his mercy.

Half an hour later he's round at my house. Rather than replace the length of pipe he cut a small length of slightly wider pipe, removed the section where my nail had buckled the original pipe, and soldered a very neat little cuff over the site of the damage. Everything then refilled, up to pressure, good as new.

I had to physically press a tenner on him for this service - he'd happily have walked out of the door with nothing.

By the time the missus got home, I had everything cleaned up and dried off, the boards back in place, and no evidence whatsoever of my complete idiocy. It would have been the perfect crime, but I 'fessed up, purely because I just had to tell someone!

John - you don't strike me as a b3ta person, but if you are and you read this, then know that you are a god among men.
(Thu 9th Feb 2012, 13:21, More)
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