» My Worst Date

I drank the fingerbowl...
...while out on a first restaurant date with a young lady.
It was my first time at a Chinese restaurant, I was young, nervous, and when the waiter put a little dish of lemony water on the table I naturally assumed it was for refreshment.
Oh how wrong I was.
(Mon 25th Oct 2004, 12:33, More)

» Out of my depth

Are you an honest bidder?
This is a bit of a long 'un, so I'll try and judo chop straight to it.
Three teenage lads out for a day of nonsense in London. Years ago down Oxford Street you used to find open shop fronts were some hookie macmurphy with a microphone was selling all manner of electrical finery for knock down prices. The shop would fill up and keen bargain hunters who had to bid for some random gizmo. People were walking away with gameboys, stereos and the like for twenty notes. The whole thing was a fiddle but we were young and deeply ignorant of the wickedness of capitalism.
Naturally, we were drawn in by the smell of a bargain. Bidding began for a top of the range camera, easily two hundred quids worth, yours for fifty sunshine. People put up their hands, the sales fella asks, 'Are you an honest bidder?', 'Yes' replies the bidder. 'Put your money away, give him a camera', bosh. My eyes glazed over and suddenly everyone in the room faded away, suddenly my hand was in the air, the banter was exchanged and suddenly I had a brand new camera that I couldn't possibly afford in front of me. Then the money began to be collected. The fog cleared. My friends had edged nervously away, and suddenly the open shop front was closed and and big fellas with blunt instruments were on the doors. The world fell out of my arse. Mumbling an excuse that I was a wee bit short of funds and was just popping out to the cash point, I left the camera, circumvented the door monkeys and ran like a dog botherer caught by the park keeper.

Thankfully, now I'm a communist and I've never looked back.
(Fri 15th Oct 2004, 10:25, More)

» My Worst Date

slice my beef
took my now wife to a carvery restuarant for our first valentines day - it's all going well until the chef carving seems to take a shine to us and begins tells us about his knife collection. We can see it if we like. We decline, politely, and spend the rest of the meal trying to avoid his attempts at eye contact.
Kills the horn stone dead. Mr. wiggly sad.
(Mon 25th Oct 2004, 13:06, More)

» Strange things you've been paid to do

struggling mums and skin tight trousers
I used to work in a department store that was built over a duel carriageway. The book department was raised, with stairs at either end to accomodate said span-idge. Every Saturday I was paid to stand at the foot of the stairs, between the gents lavvie (lots of warm air) and the mother and baby room (sick and squits in equal measures) and help carry ladies wot had prams up and down the stairs. To cap it all off the uniform was bright green and the trousers on the vaccum sealed side of tight.
(Fri 1st Oct 2004, 9:28, More)

» Evidence that you're getting old

I brought a mountain board
in a last ditch attempt to remain young. I will die on it, of that I am sure. And being old my bones will snap like brittle twigs.
(Thu 28th Oct 2004, 15:30, More)