» Your Weirdest Teacher

weirdest teacher
back home (the manchester ghettos) i'll always remember this one teacher....

he listened to us, we listened to him..
the lessons were interesting
everyone learnt something
we kind of respected him and felt the feeling was reciprocated.

fucking weirdo.
(Sat 12th Nov 2005, 23:48, More)

» Misunderstood

slightly off topic but...
just went to get a glass of water and in the tea room, two suited twunts are talking about something or other using words like "critical mass" and "referenceability". And no, i dont work with nuclear weapons.

I must have misunderstood the "ability to communicate ideas to all levels" part of the interview. Apparently it was "listen to people spout pointless buzzwords like the nobjockeys they truly are and control your compulsion to kick them in the head"

Point to self - never turn ipod off in future.
(Tue 11th Oct 2005, 17:06, More)

» Injured Siblings

Broken Collarbone #2
In some ways I actually think i deserved this one. I was about 10, so around 2 years after broken collarbone #1 incident.

My brother, lying flat on the ground in our front garden by the driveway, summons me over to him. Me being somewhat insecure and always wanting to be part of my brothers older, infinitely cooler crowd, runs over to see why on earth he and his mates would be interested in little old moi.

With his knees tucked into his chest and the soles of his feet pointing to the sky, just like a nice comfortable pedestal, he asks me if i want to sit on his legs. To play. Like a "fun, wobbly chair" if you will.

I tentatively perch my backside onto his feet and lift my legs in the air. No sooner had the smile broken out across my face in acknowledgement of such a friendly, brotherly gesture when ...

WHAM!!!

He shoots his legs bolt upright, fully extending them with all his 16 years of might.

I get air. BIG air.

And land, with all the finesse of Lisa Riley attempting a pirouette on an ice rink after her 20th bottle of Blue WKD.

Onto the driveway.

The concrete driveway.

At least i didnt cushion my landing with my face though, but my shoulder didnt do such a great job, which is how i got broken collarbone #2.

Cheers bruv.

You cunt.
(Thu 18th Aug 2005, 13:45, More)

» Now, there was no need for that...

silly cow
So, i discover my now ex-wife has been getting knobbed by the office chav. Cue much wailing, gnashing of teeth and mammoth drinking sessions for a couple of weeks before (mistakenly) giving in to her pleas to give it "another go".

So there we are, walking our dog together one evening, merely days after re-uniting as a couple..and her mobile beeps to announce the arrival of a new text message.
"Who's that from?"
I ask...since around this time one might imagine i'm more than a little paranoid.
"Oh it's from 'office-chav'"
She replies....
"What?!!" I reply, "In allah's name is that cuntwit contacting you for?!!!"
"Oh," she replies "He's just saying thankyou."

At this stage im almost aflame with rage and disbelief

"Why the fuck is that little prick saying thankyou to to you?!!!!"
"Oh, i called him to wish him happy birthday today".

(no need!)

She didnt see the harm in this and it still took me a good few months before i began to see clearly and dumped her from a great height like the peice of crap she is.

Ah well, she's just got some poor sap to father a child to her. Unlucky bloke.

Me, i moved away, got a beautiful bird, high paid job and am having the time of my life.

So not all bad in the end, really.

She's still a slag though.

:-)
(Thu 23rd Jun 2005, 12:13, More)

» Petty Sabotage

Pineapple Cubes
Sunday afternoons were when we would all meet down the pub for the obligatory "hair of the dog" session after the previous two nights fun and frolics.

A friend of ours, (not really a friend since we were right horrible bastards to him, largely because he was a total twat and deserved it) had an annoying habit of falling asleep in the pub on a Sunday afternoon - always before he'd got through his second pint...annoying when this is around 30 minutes since we all met.

On one particular Sunday afternoon, whilst relieving ourselves in the establishments facilities and mulling over the weekend so far, we noticed that the small yellow cubes we were pissing on would look far more at home in this idiots pint.

We popped them in there and swirled them around every few minutes trying to get them to dissolve before he woke up. They didnt...but he still woke up, muttered something and took a hefty swig of his pint without noticing.

The look on his face as he realised he'd been poisoned by his so-called friends was nearly as good as the scarlet face, neck and eyes he was sporting when he eventually returned from the toilets.

A reccy mission after he'd left confirmed he'd not so much prayed to the white porcelain god, but rather proclaimed his faith at the top of his lungs.

We didnt see him much after that.

Yay! First post :)
(Wed 4th May 2005, 17:28, More)