» The most childish thing you've done as an adult

Cerne Abbas Giant
Recently, my company has gone totally over the top about health & safety. As part of their ongoing drive to protect themselves from being sued protect their workers from harm, they decided that the walkways around the building needed lots of yellow men painted on them, so it would be quite plain to everyone where it was safe to walk.

One evening I took a marker pen to one of these figures and turned it into a (rather crudely drawn) Cerne Abbas Giant. Thus -



The next day, my boss went absolutely fucking mental. The term 'gross misconduct' was freely bandied about, and he spent most of the day studying the CCTV footage to see if he could catch the culprit.

However, I know where all the cameras are, and this figure is out of their range. I might be childish, but Im not stupid.
(Fri 18th Sep 2009, 0:24, More)

» My most gullible moment

Tree fellers from Cork
Back in the early 90's I worked on a tree gang in Milton Keynes (nowhere near Cork, I know, but I couldnt resist using an old Two Ronnies line!). The gang consisted of Nick the Foreman, myself & Stuart the chainsaw operators & tractor drivers and a very green 16 year old lad called Roy on his first proper job since leaving school.

Basically, we would spend all day out in the woods thinning out the young plantations. When working out in the woods, there tends to be a general lack of the basic facilities enjoyed in most workplaces, to wit, a khazi. This is fine if all you need is a number 1, but a number 2 presents a whole new set of difficulties.

Now the earthy country types amongst you might not have a problem with taking a dump outside. You simply find a quiet spot, dig a hole, do your business in it, then bury it. Simple. I find it quite an enjoyable experience, providing I can find somewhere where I know I wont be disturbed by a dog walker, which, trust me, is embarrassing for all concerned. Roy was a city boy, and the whole concept of crapping anywhere other than a porcelain bowl was completely alien to him. He found it utterly disgusting that one of us would occasionally wander off with a spade under one arm and a bog roll under the other, and would always say things like "I could never do that" and "Id hold in in until I got home, no matter what".

And so the wind up began...

We began returning from our 'missions' carrying a plastic bag containing some soil or a short thick stick, which we would then hold up to Roy and announce to him that it was "my shit", and that we were going to take it home to flush it down the lavvy. "Of course we dont crap in the woods Roy, thats disgusting, thats what Gyppos do". We would then stash the bag in one of the tractors ready to take home (and just tip it out somewhere later).

This went on for months, but we knew that eventually he would, ahem, crack.

Then one glorious day, it happened. Roy announced to us that he could hold it in no longer and he had to go off for a shit. So off he went with his Tesco's carrier bag and his bog roll under his arm and we waited.

He was gone for AGES! I mean like about 45 minutes. We'd got bored of sitting around just waiting so had resumed work again when he eventually emerged carrying what looked like a weeks shopping! Fuck me I dont think Ive ever laughed so much in my life! Nick fell to the floor and just thumped the gound in hysterics, sort of cartoon style. Stuart was half way up a tree at the time doing some pruning, and the whole tree was shaking with his laughter.

The best bit was that Roy later said that the hardest part was getting his legs through the handles of the carrier bag!!! (Oh the mental image!)

Within a week, even his mum was calling him "Baggy"!

He now runs a successful tree surgery business of his own. Good on ya Roy.
(Sat 23rd Aug 2008, 11:52, More)

» My sex misconceptions

The Weapon
someone had a misconception about my sexuality, does that count?

I used to share a house with another bloke. We often joked about how the neighbours probably thought we were gay. It wasnt helped by the fact that neither of us had been doing too well on the girlfriend front either.

Nick, my housemate, had recently been to the Erotica show in London, where he purchased The Weapon. This was a 10" rubber cock, which, he claimed, he wanted to try out on this young lass he'd recently hooked up with. (I believe she said something along the lines of "you're not putting that fucking thing anywhere near me"!)

Anyway, Nick was a slob. He thought nothing of leaving dirty plates on the floor until they were covered in mould. He was a spoilt little rich kid who'd had servants to do all that kind of thing. I hated the mess, but I wasnt prepared to clean up after him, and it was his house, so it just stayed messy.

At some point or other, this big dildo ended up on the floor in the middle of the sitting room. I wasnt going to touch it, and not just because I wasnt Nicks housekeeper, I also didnt trust him and wasnt sure where it might have been! So it stayed on the floor. It was there so long Id kind of stopped seeing it.

Then one day, there was a knock at the front door. I opened it to see my Glaswegian neighbour

"alreet pal, go any skins?"


Ahh, ok, sure Ive got skins. So I went upstairs to locate a spare pack of Rizla. Whilst up there, I heard a kind of *cough/splutter/laugh/"fuggin shite"/cough/laugh* from my Rizlaless visitor.

Oh fucking bollocks. He's seen the big rubber cock. Two men, living together, big rubber cock in the living room.

I thought about trying to explain to him that it had nothing to do with me, but I already knew that nothing I said would convince him otherwise. So I just handed him a pack of skins and shut the door.

The walls of those houses were paper thin. For ages afterwards I could hear howls of laughter from next door, punctuated by occasional words in broad Glaswegian, such as "rubber cock", "dildoo" and so on.

I moved out soon after.
(Mon 29th Sep 2008, 20:45, More)

» Helicopter Parents

Foreign Office
I went for a job interview with the Foreign Office once. The interview lasted a whole day and I even had to sign the Official Secrets Act as part of the process (so I probably shouldn't be writing this!). It was for a very good job and I was gutted to get the rejection letter a week or so later.

However, I was absolutely mortified to find out a few days later that my mum had got hold of the rejection letter and had phoned them up demanding to know why they hadn't given her precious little boy a job! She berated them for their poor recruitment choices and apparently finished her little speech by indignantly telling them that it was "their loss" before slamming the phone down.

I was 27 at the time.
(Fri 11th Sep 2009, 17:39, More)

» Cringe!

Garys house
The estate that Gary lived on had a main road with three similar cul-de-sac spur roads coming off it. I turned into the cul-de-sac that Gary lived on and parked behind a red Cavalier. This was Tims car, and meant that he was also round at Garys.

I walked up to the house and knocked on the door. A middle aged woman who I had never seen before answered. This was not unusual as Garys partner Di often had lots of people around the house, most of whom I didnt know.

"Is Gary in?" I enquired.

The woman smiled. "yes dear, come through"

Everything looked normal. The wood floor in the hall. The staircase opposite the front door with the wood panel walls. Turn right and walk into the kitchen.

The kitchen was different though. Well it wasnt a kitchen. There were no appliances for a start. And the walls had been stripped bare. Di must be having a new kitchen fitted, I thought. Nothing unusual about that.

Sat at a small pine table in the kitchen was a man in a business suit with a briefcase open on the table in front of him. He looked like he might be an insurance salesman. Or maybe he was from the company who were fitting the kitchen? Who knows. Who cares? I was here to see my friends, who were at this moment out in the studio.

Gary had converted the garage into a music studio, which was accessed by going through the kitchen, into the garden and into the back door of the garage. So I started to walk through the kitchen towards the back door.

At this point I realised that the man in the suit and the middle aged woman were both staring at me in an odd kind of way. Better say something, I thought.

"erm.....are they out in the studio?"

no answer. both still just staring at me.

Oh cunting fuckflaps. Im in the wrong house! I must have pulled into the wrong cul-de-sac! The man in the suit is also a Gary! ARSE!

The next few seconds were the longest of my life, as I tried frantically to get the hell out of there as quickly as I could. As I walked away from the house I glanced back, and saw suited Gary and the woman both staring at me out the window.

Still makes me shudder.
(Mon 1st Dec 2008, 20:54, More)