Profile for i.charlius:
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- a member for 17 years, 5 months and 7 days
- has posted 57 messages on the main board
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- has posted 25 stories and 17 replies on question of the week
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Recent front page messages:
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» Irrational Hatred
London dialling code
It may seem innoccuous to most, but it REALLY grinds my gears to hear people give out their (London) phone number as beginning with 0207... or 0208....
There is only one dialling code for London, and it is 020. Nothing more, nothing less.
(Fri 1st Apr 2011, 17:16, More)
London dialling code
It may seem innoccuous to most, but it REALLY grinds my gears to hear people give out their (London) phone number as beginning with 0207... or 0208....
There is only one dialling code for London, and it is 020. Nothing more, nothing less.
(Fri 1st Apr 2011, 17:16, More)
» Weird Rituals
If a car window is to be wound down partially
then the diagonal edge of the glass must intersect with the right-angle of the window frame exactly.
Even if this means a protracted sequence of tiny up-down adjustments.
(Thu 15th Dec 2011, 14:39, More)
If a car window is to be wound down partially
then the diagonal edge of the glass must intersect with the right-angle of the window frame exactly.
Even if this means a protracted sequence of tiny up-down adjustments.
(Thu 15th Dec 2011, 14:39, More)
» Vandalism
Working in a certain music & film shop...
...(the one with the dog looking at the gramaphone) during my college years, I was briefly in charge of the DVD section of the store. I changed the 'Winnie the Pooh' header card to 'We Need a Poo', for no reason other than I thought it was funny.
Turns out the store manager thought otherwise.
(Sun 10th Oct 2010, 18:19, More)
Working in a certain music & film shop...
...(the one with the dog looking at the gramaphone) during my college years, I was briefly in charge of the DVD section of the store. I changed the 'Winnie the Pooh' header card to 'We Need a Poo', for no reason other than I thought it was funny.
Turns out the store manager thought otherwise.
(Sun 10th Oct 2010, 18:19, More)
» What was I thinking?
Insensitive
I temp'ed for about a year before I went to uni to save a bit of extra spending cash, and found myself working in the MOD main building in Whitehall. I was working for some architects who were redisigning the interior of the building and hence were based on site for surveys etc.
One of the guys there was ex-paramilitary, and had been forced to retire after a parachute fail. He'd suffered some spinal injury in the fall; his mobility was saved but he was left with a profound stutter.
One morning he asked if he could have a look through my copy of the Metro - replete with agonising stuttering. I turned to face him and instinctively (and that's the worst part, for me) mocked his stutter by saying "er, er, er, er" whilst looking him in the eye. Not a conscious decision but my brain obviously thought it was the right thing to do.
As I was blurting out this verbal atrocity I suddenly realised what I was doing and wished I could die on the spot. I apologised profusely but it was way too late for that.
Everyone within earshot was slack jawed in disgust.
Phil - if you're reading this - that moment has haunted me ever since (about 10 years and counting) and I really am sorry I was such a prick. You were a top guy, too.
(Sat 25th Sep 2010, 20:04, More)
Insensitive
I temp'ed for about a year before I went to uni to save a bit of extra spending cash, and found myself working in the MOD main building in Whitehall. I was working for some architects who were redisigning the interior of the building and hence were based on site for surveys etc.
One of the guys there was ex-paramilitary, and had been forced to retire after a parachute fail. He'd suffered some spinal injury in the fall; his mobility was saved but he was left with a profound stutter.
One morning he asked if he could have a look through my copy of the Metro - replete with agonising stuttering. I turned to face him and instinctively (and that's the worst part, for me) mocked his stutter by saying "er, er, er, er" whilst looking him in the eye. Not a conscious decision but my brain obviously thought it was the right thing to do.
As I was blurting out this verbal atrocity I suddenly realised what I was doing and wished I could die on the spot. I apologised profusely but it was way too late for that.
Everyone within earshot was slack jawed in disgust.
Phil - if you're reading this - that moment has haunted me ever since (about 10 years and counting) and I really am sorry I was such a prick. You were a top guy, too.
(Sat 25th Sep 2010, 20:04, More)
» Real-life slapstick
My 3 year old nephew is a wuss…
He gets extremely scared of sudden loud noises. Looking after him one day on behalf of my big sister, he notices my small assortment of guitars and asks if he can ‘have a go’ on them. Whilst beating the fretboard of my Strat, he enquired as to what the dials do. “They make it go louder and quieter” was the most elaborate explanation I was prepared to give.
Obviously he wanted a demonstration so I duly obliged and flicked on an amp. Guitarists amongst you will know the irksome bang that often accompanies plugging a jack into a guitar / already switched-on amp. Sure enough the amp gave a loud, baritone cough and lo, there were tears and hysterics, and my feeble attempts at paternal sympathy and reassurance ensued.
Later on the same day; same room with guitars and I’m showing him that it’s not all loud bangs and scary noises. Satisfied by my explanations, he toddled off whilst I switched off the amp and stowed the guitar.
“What’s this?’ he asks from behind my back.
I should point out that some decorating had occurred recently and all things in the house weren’t where they should be.
So barely had I spun around and issued the words “a smoke alarm’ before he pushed the test button with it aiming directly into his face. Cue a Benny Hill-esque, hands clasped over either ear, terrified look on his mini-boat.
Length? A full toss.
(I’ve got my own nipper now, and he puts up with all kinds of racket)
(Thu 21st Jan 2010, 16:40, More)
My 3 year old nephew is a wuss…
He gets extremely scared of sudden loud noises. Looking after him one day on behalf of my big sister, he notices my small assortment of guitars and asks if he can ‘have a go’ on them. Whilst beating the fretboard of my Strat, he enquired as to what the dials do. “They make it go louder and quieter” was the most elaborate explanation I was prepared to give.
Obviously he wanted a demonstration so I duly obliged and flicked on an amp. Guitarists amongst you will know the irksome bang that often accompanies plugging a jack into a guitar / already switched-on amp. Sure enough the amp gave a loud, baritone cough and lo, there were tears and hysterics, and my feeble attempts at paternal sympathy and reassurance ensued.
Later on the same day; same room with guitars and I’m showing him that it’s not all loud bangs and scary noises. Satisfied by my explanations, he toddled off whilst I switched off the amp and stowed the guitar.
“What’s this?’ he asks from behind my back.
I should point out that some decorating had occurred recently and all things in the house weren’t where they should be.
So barely had I spun around and issued the words “a smoke alarm’ before he pushed the test button with it aiming directly into his face. Cue a Benny Hill-esque, hands clasped over either ear, terrified look on his mini-boat.
Length? A full toss.
(I’ve got my own nipper now, and he puts up with all kinds of racket)
(Thu 21st Jan 2010, 16:40, More)