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- a member for 17 years, 11 months and 26 days
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» Putting the Fun in Funeral
Music Matters
When my bother died in an accident almost 5 years ago, we briefly debated using some of his favourite music at his funeral. However, this was swiftly abandoned when we remembered that his favourite song was "Should I Stay or Should I Go" by The Clash.
We stuck to hymns.
RIP JAC xxx
(Mon 15th May 2006, 22:30, More)
Music Matters
When my bother died in an accident almost 5 years ago, we briefly debated using some of his favourite music at his funeral. However, this was swiftly abandoned when we remembered that his favourite song was "Should I Stay or Should I Go" by The Clash.
We stuck to hymns.
RIP JAC xxx
(Mon 15th May 2006, 22:30, More)
» Too much information
Dirty Bastard
My ex husband once phoned my sister at work to confer with her on a surprise for me. A romantic notion somewhat spoiled by his answer to the receptionist's question "which A(there was another girl with the same name as sis) is it you want to speak to?"
Him:"The one with the nice tits."
(Sun 9th Sep 2007, 22:09, More)
Dirty Bastard
My ex husband once phoned my sister at work to confer with her on a surprise for me. A romantic notion somewhat spoiled by his answer to the receptionist's question "which A(there was another girl with the same name as sis) is it you want to speak to?"
Him:"The one with the nice tits."
(Sun 9th Sep 2007, 22:09, More)
» Family Holidays
I Put the "Scar" in Scarborough
I was 14. I'd warned the parents in advance that Scarborough looked shite but my sullen demands fell on deaf ears. To make it worse, I was on my own. My older sister was off to the South of France with her mates, my older brother off to the then-Yugoslavia with his.
I knew things were going to be bad when I was shown to my room at the very, very top of the boarding house we were staying in. It was tiny, with bobbly blankets on a lumpy mattress and My Little Pony paper lining the fusty smelling drawers. I decided to distract myself by checking out my view, being so high up I was sure that it'd be a cracker.
It was the local graveyard.
And so it went on. We went to the seaside. I go in for a swim. I'm surrounded by pink bog roll and lumps of rust from the pier. We go to the local water park, I slip and fall on my arse down a flight of stairs. No one helps me. I fight back more tears. The landlady serves crap grown up food every single day which I won't eat. My Dad gets even more pissed off at me. We go to see Cannon and Ball's summer show at the theatre. I piss myself laughing. I needed a laugh.
We only stayed a week. On the way home I got the double whammy of crippling period pain and travel sickness. I didn't care, they were heaves of joy.
My only consolation was that I ruined the holiday for the parents too, with my deep sighs and sullen visage. I did fucking warn them.
(Fri 3rd Aug 2007, 19:32, More)
I Put the "Scar" in Scarborough
I was 14. I'd warned the parents in advance that Scarborough looked shite but my sullen demands fell on deaf ears. To make it worse, I was on my own. My older sister was off to the South of France with her mates, my older brother off to the then-Yugoslavia with his.
I knew things were going to be bad when I was shown to my room at the very, very top of the boarding house we were staying in. It was tiny, with bobbly blankets on a lumpy mattress and My Little Pony paper lining the fusty smelling drawers. I decided to distract myself by checking out my view, being so high up I was sure that it'd be a cracker.
It was the local graveyard.
And so it went on. We went to the seaside. I go in for a swim. I'm surrounded by pink bog roll and lumps of rust from the pier. We go to the local water park, I slip and fall on my arse down a flight of stairs. No one helps me. I fight back more tears. The landlady serves crap grown up food every single day which I won't eat. My Dad gets even more pissed off at me. We go to see Cannon and Ball's summer show at the theatre. I piss myself laughing. I needed a laugh.
We only stayed a week. On the way home I got the double whammy of crippling period pain and travel sickness. I didn't care, they were heaves of joy.
My only consolation was that I ruined the holiday for the parents too, with my deep sighs and sullen visage. I did fucking warn them.
(Fri 3rd Aug 2007, 19:32, More)
» Restaurants, Kitchens and Bars... Oh my!
Pretty sure this is an urban myth but
I heard about a chef who worked in a local restaurant who was banging one of the waitresses. One of his sex favourites was to smear whatever foodstuffs was to hand on her ladybits before giving her head, therefore literally "eating her out".
All was well until the day he used tuna mayo.
Unfortunately, some of it remained lodged deep inside her love tunnel which after some time became so rancid that maggots hatched inside her.
Lovely
(Fri 21st Jul 2006, 21:08, More)
Pretty sure this is an urban myth but
I heard about a chef who worked in a local restaurant who was banging one of the waitresses. One of his sex favourites was to smear whatever foodstuffs was to hand on her ladybits before giving her head, therefore literally "eating her out".
All was well until the day he used tuna mayo.
Unfortunately, some of it remained lodged deep inside her love tunnel which after some time became so rancid that maggots hatched inside her.
Lovely
(Fri 21st Jul 2006, 21:08, More)