Profile for Captn Hood-Butter:
Profile Info:
Meet Shirley. We are getting married in August next year and we will be inviting all of you (see Calendar)
I know some of you think that I've gone mad, well I haven't. I met Shirley at the festival I help run. She is just so perfect for me. We fell for eachother almost as soon as we met. I knew her in the past and to be fair, didn't get on too well but after getting to know her a bit it was obvious we were made for each other. She is, in my opinion, drop dead gorgeous, loving and caring, very intelligent. She can speak fluent Russian, and a fair bit of French, German and Spanish. She loves gadgets and above all, she is a musician like myself. She plays violin, bass guitar and is the lead singer in a great little band. She is also a mature model. She's a fair bit younger than me but then who isn't? She has several contracts for clothing and she is even a life model at Cambridge University and other colleges. She is looking forward to meeting you all, but probably will not post on here, at least for a while.
It's art but a bit nsfw
See the baldmokey concert from the 2008 Summer Bash Here
LINKY TO THE 2009 BASH
CLICKY TO LISTEN TO A BASH SONG
LINKY TO THE 2009 FESTIVAL DETAILS OF THE BLUE HAZE SET
A few of the Ascii Art pikkies I've posted on b3ta
1. Shark/Helicopter
2. Badger-badger-snake!-Mushroom!
3. Kleenex
4. Space Invaders
5. *GOATSE*
6. A pint of Guinness
Probably my best one so far.
7.Hitler
PORTRAITS
Baldmonkey
Matt
That Sexface picture
The Furry Dinosaur
Badger & WW
Psycochomp
Moo
Picard Face Palm
Alternatively, here is a screenshit of all of them together plus a few more.
SCREEN SHOT
There's a little hover thing here \|/
I was born at an early age, ran away with a rock band and have been lurking in the music industry ever since.
I have been running RockTech for almost 12 years now. I was one of the original contributers for the Channel 4 series, Rock School.
Visitor No. ^
I play keyboards in a Pink Floyd covers band.
myspaz/thebluehaze
I'm in the process of moving at the moment. I've now teamed up with a chap who does proper good video stuff. The new company will be called Fordham Sound & Vision. In a nut shell, we will be offering top quality video with proper sound recording. We will have a mobile studio and an editing suite at the new gaff. I shall be needing a web shyte made soon so any of you clever cunts want to make any suggestions, gaz me.
I also work with a London based charity called UK Unsigned and help to showcase unsigned bands across the UK. Bands wanting gigs
can get in touch with me and we will see what we can do.
This is a BBC review of my rock school which will be back in full swing early in 2010.
Clicky here
I ALSO DO STAND UP COMEDY
Rude clicky
My comedy CV
Here are some of my most recent works of art.
A quick pencil sketch of Biff who is sadly no longer with us :(
August 2010 at the Fordham Festival. See calendar.
TRY NOT TO FALL OFF THE END OF THIS PROFILE
Recent front page messages:
Best answers to questions:
[read all their answers]
- a member for 39 years, 10 months and 20 days
- has posted 624 messages on the main board
- (of which 3 have appeared on the front page)
- has posted 33577 messages on the talk board
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- (including 32 links)
- has posted 81 stories and 17 replies on question of the week
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Profile Info:
Meet Shirley. We are getting married in August next year and we will be inviting all of you (see Calendar)
I know some of you think that I've gone mad, well I haven't. I met Shirley at the festival I help run. She is just so perfect for me. We fell for eachother almost as soon as we met. I knew her in the past and to be fair, didn't get on too well but after getting to know her a bit it was obvious we were made for each other. She is, in my opinion, drop dead gorgeous, loving and caring, very intelligent. She can speak fluent Russian, and a fair bit of French, German and Spanish. She loves gadgets and above all, she is a musician like myself. She plays violin, bass guitar and is the lead singer in a great little band. She is also a mature model. She's a fair bit younger than me but then who isn't? She has several contracts for clothing and she is even a life model at Cambridge University and other colleges. She is looking forward to meeting you all, but probably will not post on here, at least for a while.
It's art but a bit nsfw
See the baldmokey concert from the 2008 Summer Bash Here
LINKY TO THE 2009 BASH
CLICKY TO LISTEN TO A BASH SONG
LINKY TO THE 2009 FESTIVAL DETAILS OF THE BLUE HAZE SET
A few of the Ascii Art pikkies I've posted on b3ta
1. Shark/Helicopter
2. Badger-badger-snake!-Mushroom!
3. Kleenex
4. Space Invaders
5. *GOATSE*
6. A pint of Guinness
Probably my best one so far.
7.Hitler
PORTRAITS
Baldmonkey
Matt
That Sexface picture
The Furry Dinosaur
Badger & WW
Psycochomp
Moo
Picard Face Palm
Alternatively, here is a screenshit of all of them together plus a few more.
SCREEN SHOT
There's a little hover thing here \|/
I was born at an early age, ran away with a rock band and have been lurking in the music industry ever since.
I have been running RockTech for almost 12 years now. I was one of the original contributers for the Channel 4 series, Rock School.
Visitor No. ^
I play keyboards in a Pink Floyd covers band.
myspaz/thebluehaze
I'm in the process of moving at the moment. I've now teamed up with a chap who does proper good video stuff. The new company will be called Fordham Sound & Vision. In a nut shell, we will be offering top quality video with proper sound recording. We will have a mobile studio and an editing suite at the new gaff. I shall be needing a web shyte made soon so any of you clever cunts want to make any suggestions, gaz me.
I also work with a London based charity called UK Unsigned and help to showcase unsigned bands across the UK. Bands wanting gigs
can get in touch with me and we will see what we can do.
This is a BBC review of my rock school which will be back in full swing early in 2010.
Clicky here
I ALSO DO STAND UP COMEDY
Rude clicky
My comedy CV
Here are some of my most recent works of art.
A quick pencil sketch of Biff who is sadly no longer with us :(
August 2010 at the Fordham Festival. See calendar.
TRY NOT TO FALL OFF THE END OF THIS PROFILE
Recent front page messages:
Best answers to questions:
» In the Army Now - The joy of the Armed Forces
Back in 1981
I was nursing my wounds after a messy marriage break up and decided to take my uncles advice and try to join the Royal Marines. My idea was to join the RM Band and travel the world. Problem was, I was a fit fucker then, and got an A1 fitness pass so I ended up being selected for special duties, ended up in the SBS and went to the Falklands. My story is here. I'm back in the music business now.
(Fri 24th Mar 2006, 10:50, More)
Back in 1981
I was nursing my wounds after a messy marriage break up and decided to take my uncles advice and try to join the Royal Marines. My idea was to join the RM Band and travel the world. Problem was, I was a fit fucker then, and got an A1 fitness pass so I ended up being selected for special duties, ended up in the SBS and went to the Falklands. My story is here. I'm back in the music business now.
(Fri 24th Mar 2006, 10:50, More)
» * PFFT *
Gurning out a rectal-puff in a supermarket is not big, nor clever, yet quite amusing.
I was strolling through Tescos with my trolly and suddenly I felt the warning rumble, predicting the imminent arrival of a possible copious emmision of Eau-de-Colon. I looked around to make sure nobody was nearby and decided to birth the proot in the cheese and dairy produce aisle. I sort of perched against the trolly to force the guff out at a controlled pace, so as not to make it too audible. Sadly, it was not to be and a size XXL air buffet was expelled from my walnut at great velocity, producing a very loud quacking raspberry.
Almost immediately I realised that the boquet was pungent beyond normallity and decided to make good my escape, leaving behind the stench for the next person to make their way to this particular part of the shop to procure their chosen dairy produce. As I turned I almost bumped into a woman who I had not detected, as she was crouched down low with a 6 pint bottle of semi-skimmed which she had picked from the lower part of the display.
It was a shockingly immediate realisation that this person, not only witnessed the full soundtrack but had actually received the anal gust full in the face.
I am a gentleman and promptly apologised and continued with my shopping. A few minutes later I found myself at the same checkout as the poor recipient of my repulsive fartage. For a while our eyes met very briefly, but devilment soon got the better of me. I turned to the woman who was looking decidedly uncomfortable, probably due to her feeling nauseous and possibly in a state of shock. Let's face it. I mean, the last thing you expect whilst shopping for milk in a supermarket is some cunt farting directly into your face.
Our eyes met and she gave me a look of disgust yet spoke no words. I stared back at her and without muse or emotion I simply said, "I think there's more". The woman hurried her shopping back into her basket and moved to another checkout much further up the store, and close to the exit. Our paths crossed briefly in the car park. She wound down the window of her Renault Megane, looked at me briefly and said briefly, yet assertivley, "Filty pig". I waved and bid her a pleasent journey.
I have dined out on this story for several years now, but I do feel rather sorry for this woman, as should she ever decides to recall these events, it will inevitably be met with mirth. Shame.
(Mon 16th Jul 2007, 11:48, More)
Gurning out a rectal-puff in a supermarket is not big, nor clever, yet quite amusing.
I was strolling through Tescos with my trolly and suddenly I felt the warning rumble, predicting the imminent arrival of a possible copious emmision of Eau-de-Colon. I looked around to make sure nobody was nearby and decided to birth the proot in the cheese and dairy produce aisle. I sort of perched against the trolly to force the guff out at a controlled pace, so as not to make it too audible. Sadly, it was not to be and a size XXL air buffet was expelled from my walnut at great velocity, producing a very loud quacking raspberry.
Almost immediately I realised that the boquet was pungent beyond normallity and decided to make good my escape, leaving behind the stench for the next person to make their way to this particular part of the shop to procure their chosen dairy produce. As I turned I almost bumped into a woman who I had not detected, as she was crouched down low with a 6 pint bottle of semi-skimmed which she had picked from the lower part of the display.
It was a shockingly immediate realisation that this person, not only witnessed the full soundtrack but had actually received the anal gust full in the face.
I am a gentleman and promptly apologised and continued with my shopping. A few minutes later I found myself at the same checkout as the poor recipient of my repulsive fartage. For a while our eyes met very briefly, but devilment soon got the better of me. I turned to the woman who was looking decidedly uncomfortable, probably due to her feeling nauseous and possibly in a state of shock. Let's face it. I mean, the last thing you expect whilst shopping for milk in a supermarket is some cunt farting directly into your face.
Our eyes met and she gave me a look of disgust yet spoke no words. I stared back at her and without muse or emotion I simply said, "I think there's more". The woman hurried her shopping back into her basket and moved to another checkout much further up the store, and close to the exit. Our paths crossed briefly in the car park. She wound down the window of her Renault Megane, looked at me briefly and said briefly, yet assertivley, "Filty pig". I waved and bid her a pleasent journey.
I have dined out on this story for several years now, but I do feel rather sorry for this woman, as should she ever decides to recall these events, it will inevitably be met with mirth. Shame.
(Mon 16th Jul 2007, 11:48, More)
» The passive-aggressive guilt trip
I'm bad, I'm bad and I know it.
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I remember way back in the mid 1980's I had had quite a fair quantity to drink in my local pub and some friends decided to shave half my head and one eyebrow after I had passed out. The following day, I had no alternative but to shave the other half off, which I did.
I decided not to go back to the same pub for a while, at least until my eyebrows had grown back a bit and I had some hair on my head, so that evening I decided to visit a pub I had not been in for sometime. As soon as I walked in, I remembered why. It was full of arseholes. The moment I entered the bar, the chief arsehole, whose name was Neil laid in with the first insult, "Fuck me, look at you, had an argument with a lawn mower?", he snorted followed by a far to loud a laugh to accompany such a pathetic joke. How original I thought. Neil kept on and on and on, insult after insult to the point where I almost decked him until I heard him ask, "..so where did you get it cut then, the council?" He laughed out loud even more and had not noticed that the rest of the bar had spotted that I had begun to get a tad pissed off, and they knew that as an ex special services officer, recently returned from the Falklands War, if I did hit him, it wouldn't be too pretty.
At this point an evil thought came to mind. I turned towards him, I could feel the tension in the air, everyone thought I was going to kick off and it all went very quiet. Neil himself suddenly realised he might be in for some hospital food and he shut up. I staired him right in the face and aseritvely replied, "Well actually, cunt, have you ever heard of chaemotherapy?"
With this he looked as guilty as if he had just run over a child in a stolen 4X4 with big fuck-off bull-bars, and he left the pub very quickly. Everone else went even quieter until I turned around and winked at them and murmered, "Stupid bastard". The place erupted with laughter and nothing more was said.
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(Thu 13th Oct 2005, 16:20, More)
I'm bad, I'm bad and I know it.
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I remember way back in the mid 1980's I had had quite a fair quantity to drink in my local pub and some friends decided to shave half my head and one eyebrow after I had passed out. The following day, I had no alternative but to shave the other half off, which I did.
I decided not to go back to the same pub for a while, at least until my eyebrows had grown back a bit and I had some hair on my head, so that evening I decided to visit a pub I had not been in for sometime. As soon as I walked in, I remembered why. It was full of arseholes. The moment I entered the bar, the chief arsehole, whose name was Neil laid in with the first insult, "Fuck me, look at you, had an argument with a lawn mower?", he snorted followed by a far to loud a laugh to accompany such a pathetic joke. How original I thought. Neil kept on and on and on, insult after insult to the point where I almost decked him until I heard him ask, "..so where did you get it cut then, the council?" He laughed out loud even more and had not noticed that the rest of the bar had spotted that I had begun to get a tad pissed off, and they knew that as an ex special services officer, recently returned from the Falklands War, if I did hit him, it wouldn't be too pretty.
At this point an evil thought came to mind. I turned towards him, I could feel the tension in the air, everyone thought I was going to kick off and it all went very quiet. Neil himself suddenly realised he might be in for some hospital food and he shut up. I staired him right in the face and aseritvely replied, "Well actually, cunt, have you ever heard of chaemotherapy?"
With this he looked as guilty as if he had just run over a child in a stolen 4X4 with big fuck-off bull-bars, and he left the pub very quickly. Everone else went even quieter until I turned around and winked at them and murmered, "Stupid bastard". The place erupted with laughter and nothing more was said.
Will I go to Hell for this?
As if I fucking care!
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(Thu 13th Oct 2005, 16:20, More)
» Pathological Liars
A year ago I celebrated my 21st birthday
by throwing a party. There was a guy there who was a right porky pier. He told me that his father had died and left him £3000 and his house. Like as if that was true, the bullshitting swine. Anyway, being a gold belt in all the martial arts I gave him a propper good thrashing.
He fell a bit awkward and hit his head on the floor, splashing blood on my brand new shoes that had cost me £2000 that very day. I thought I had better do the decent thing, so I decided to take him to casualty in my car. I wrapped a towel around his head so as not to get blood on the white leather seats of my Bugatti Veyron, I got him inside and drove to the hospital. At one point we were doing over 200MPH on a B road and went through dozens of speed cameras but I wasn't too bothered as I have revolving number plates like James Bond had on that Aston Martin in Goldfinger, which incidentally, my sister directed. We soon made it to the A&E department and I helped the fibbing fucker out of the car. He had lost over a galon of blood, and some had gone on my carpet, but I wasn't too bothered as I employ my own cleaning team. They clean all of my cars, helicopters and yachts.
As soon as we got there they called the crash team and just before he passed out they were able to ask him what blood type he was. He told them he had a rare AB blood type and the chief doctor got on the phone to the blood bank. I was able to avert a tragedy as I informed them that he was a filthy lier and he was really O. Now unconcious, he was unable to tell any more fibs and the chief doctor was very grateful for me being there. Poor sod died a few hours later but the police couldn't do a thing as I work for the secret service and have a licence to kill, like James Bond in Goldfinger, which incidentally, my brother directed.
Sorry if there are any spelling errors in this only I'm getting a gobble off of my wife who you may have heard of. Keira Knightley. I alway get to shag good looking women as I've got a 12" cock, a bit like James Bond in Goldfinger, which incidentally, my dad directed, except my cock is bigger than his, James Bond's that is, not my dad's, his is 13". I fucking hate liers.
(Fri 30th Nov 2007, 23:11, More)
A year ago I celebrated my 21st birthday
by throwing a party. There was a guy there who was a right porky pier. He told me that his father had died and left him £3000 and his house. Like as if that was true, the bullshitting swine. Anyway, being a gold belt in all the martial arts I gave him a propper good thrashing.
He fell a bit awkward and hit his head on the floor, splashing blood on my brand new shoes that had cost me £2000 that very day. I thought I had better do the decent thing, so I decided to take him to casualty in my car. I wrapped a towel around his head so as not to get blood on the white leather seats of my Bugatti Veyron, I got him inside and drove to the hospital. At one point we were doing over 200MPH on a B road and went through dozens of speed cameras but I wasn't too bothered as I have revolving number plates like James Bond had on that Aston Martin in Goldfinger, which incidentally, my sister directed. We soon made it to the A&E department and I helped the fibbing fucker out of the car. He had lost over a galon of blood, and some had gone on my carpet, but I wasn't too bothered as I employ my own cleaning team. They clean all of my cars, helicopters and yachts.
As soon as we got there they called the crash team and just before he passed out they were able to ask him what blood type he was. He told them he had a rare AB blood type and the chief doctor got on the phone to the blood bank. I was able to avert a tragedy as I informed them that he was a filthy lier and he was really O. Now unconcious, he was unable to tell any more fibs and the chief doctor was very grateful for me being there. Poor sod died a few hours later but the police couldn't do a thing as I work for the secret service and have a licence to kill, like James Bond in Goldfinger, which incidentally, my brother directed.
Sorry if there are any spelling errors in this only I'm getting a gobble off of my wife who you may have heard of. Keira Knightley. I alway get to shag good looking women as I've got a 12" cock, a bit like James Bond in Goldfinger, which incidentally, my dad directed, except my cock is bigger than his, James Bond's that is, not my dad's, his is 13". I fucking hate liers.
(Fri 30th Nov 2007, 23:11, More)
» Weddings
I propose a toast to the bride and FFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKK!!!!
Now ladies. Yes we know childbirth stings a little, but you do not know the meaning of pain. I was once bestist man at a mate's wedding. He was marrying this ugly bird who looked a bit like UglyDog, on the last newsletter. I was in the bog having a wazz and joking with this bloke about the bride's looks. Gurning Chimp was my favourite as far as I remember. I had just finished my piss and, still laughing, quickly done up my zip. Now due to the fact that I was as pissed as an innercity comprehensive school teacher, I had failed to pop my cock back home safely and zipped my cock up in the teeth of the zip. At least 12 teeth had embedded themselves in the skin of my knob and I had to take myself to A&E on the bus because no cunt would or could give me a lift. Bent over double, with a teatowel wrapped around my nudger, which was now bleeding like a stabbed cow. The zip was actually embedded in my knob-skin and had to be removed, (The zip that is, not my knob) They then had to pick out the zip teeth, one at a time with a small pair of pliers. If that wasn't enough they had to (you still with me?) stitch up my womb-ferret which now looked like something you would find in a butcher's dustbin with 12 bloody stiches mate! Pain!? Don't you fuckin' 'pain' me! 2 nurses holding me down. Having the stiches out a week later was no fucking holiday either. Best bit was, the doctor told me not to get a hard on as I would split my stitches. Well if you go to bed with the light off, you wake up with the hard........ NURSE!!!!!
Three times it had to be re-stitched!! Why couldn't that have happened to Johnathan King?
I promise. If I ever have to go to a wedding where a swamp pig is marrying a mate, I shall only speak kind words about her, even if she does resemble a prolapsed hippo arse.
(Fri 15th Jul 2005, 11:57, More)
I propose a toast to the bride and FFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKK!!!!
Now ladies. Yes we know childbirth stings a little, but you do not know the meaning of pain. I was once bestist man at a mate's wedding. He was marrying this ugly bird who looked a bit like UglyDog, on the last newsletter. I was in the bog having a wazz and joking with this bloke about the bride's looks. Gurning Chimp was my favourite as far as I remember. I had just finished my piss and, still laughing, quickly done up my zip. Now due to the fact that I was as pissed as an innercity comprehensive school teacher, I had failed to pop my cock back home safely and zipped my cock up in the teeth of the zip. At least 12 teeth had embedded themselves in the skin of my knob and I had to take myself to A&E on the bus because no cunt would or could give me a lift. Bent over double, with a teatowel wrapped around my nudger, which was now bleeding like a stabbed cow. The zip was actually embedded in my knob-skin and had to be removed, (The zip that is, not my knob) They then had to pick out the zip teeth, one at a time with a small pair of pliers. If that wasn't enough they had to (you still with me?) stitch up my womb-ferret which now looked like something you would find in a butcher's dustbin with 12 bloody stiches mate! Pain!? Don't you fuckin' 'pain' me! 2 nurses holding me down. Having the stiches out a week later was no fucking holiday either. Best bit was, the doctor told me not to get a hard on as I would split my stitches. Well if you go to bed with the light off, you wake up with the hard........ NURSE!!!!!
Three times it had to be re-stitched!! Why couldn't that have happened to Johnathan King?
I promise. If I ever have to go to a wedding where a swamp pig is marrying a mate, I shall only speak kind words about her, even if she does resemble a prolapsed hippo arse.
(Fri 15th Jul 2005, 11:57, More)