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- a member for 3 years, 9 months and 2 days
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» Going Too Far
A big show of hands
One guy at Uni had the temerity to disagree with me when we were drunk, can you imagine?
When he was passed out, I crept into his room, glued the palms of his hands together and then glued the door of his room shut as I left.
I hear it took them about 3 hours to get him out the next day, red faced and tearful. Luckily, I'd had loads of Newcastle Brown so slept though with an untroubled conscience.
(Tue 14th Nov 2006, 11:49, More)
A big show of hands
One guy at Uni had the temerity to disagree with me when we were drunk, can you imagine?
When he was passed out, I crept into his room, glued the palms of his hands together and then glued the door of his room shut as I left.
I hear it took them about 3 hours to get him out the next day, red faced and tearful. Luckily, I'd had loads of Newcastle Brown so slept though with an untroubled conscience.
(Tue 14th Nov 2006, 11:49, More)
» I hurt my rude bits
Bright red peeler
My ex-missus was a charming lady but when it came to the old one-two she didn't get very slippy slidy downstairs. We had the option of soldiering on gamely or resorting to exostic lubricants to make things go nicely.
One summer night, we found ourselves somewhat shy of K-Y (due to me drunkenly stepping on the tube the night before) so we cast about for alternatives.
Being young and bloody stupid, we desperately settle on hair conditioner. It did the job a treat and we set to it with a vengeance.
In my defence, it was late and very warm plus I HAD been drinking. So, after doing the do, I passed out with the sense of a job well done.
The next morning, I awoke to find what happens if you leave conditioner on your little general. It had enflamed and swollen to a massive 4"! Over the next few days, the pain and swelling subsided and the skin charmingly flaked away.
For some reason, she refused to touch the poor wee thing until it was all better, which took AGES. Cow.
(Mon 17th Jul 2006, 12:41, More)
Bright red peeler
My ex-missus was a charming lady but when it came to the old one-two she didn't get very slippy slidy downstairs. We had the option of soldiering on gamely or resorting to exostic lubricants to make things go nicely.
One summer night, we found ourselves somewhat shy of K-Y (due to me drunkenly stepping on the tube the night before) so we cast about for alternatives.
Being young and bloody stupid, we desperately settle on hair conditioner. It did the job a treat and we set to it with a vengeance.
In my defence, it was late and very warm plus I HAD been drinking. So, after doing the do, I passed out with the sense of a job well done.
The next morning, I awoke to find what happens if you leave conditioner on your little general. It had enflamed and swollen to a massive 4"! Over the next few days, the pain and swelling subsided and the skin charmingly flaked away.
For some reason, she refused to touch the poor wee thing until it was all better, which took AGES. Cow.
(Mon 17th Jul 2006, 12:41, More)
» Road Rage
A4 letter, word.
Two days after having my nippy new car stolen, I was wandering down Feeder Road in Bristol on the way to work. At the end, there's a long line of traffic queued up to a T-junction with the A4.
Donkey Chav, with Mindy in the passenger seat thinks "sod this" and pulls out into the oncoming lane and floors it, racing ahead of the 10 cars ahead of him. Handbrakes at the junction and tools off up the road.
There was enough of a pause for me to think "I bet that's the fucker who took my motor" before I hear a siren start and the police car which was waiting at the lights round the corner sets off in Hot Pursuit.
Laugh? Oh my goodness, yes.
(Fri 13th Oct 2006, 11:14, More)
A4 letter, word.
Two days after having my nippy new car stolen, I was wandering down Feeder Road in Bristol on the way to work. At the end, there's a long line of traffic queued up to a T-junction with the A4.
Donkey Chav, with Mindy in the passenger seat thinks "sod this" and pulls out into the oncoming lane and floors it, racing ahead of the 10 cars ahead of him. Handbrakes at the junction and tools off up the road.
There was enough of a pause for me to think "I bet that's the fucker who took my motor" before I hear a siren start and the police car which was waiting at the lights round the corner sets off in Hot Pursuit.
Laugh? Oh my goodness, yes.
(Fri 13th Oct 2006, 11:14, More)