» Bullies

probably one of my more memorable ones.
/unlurks

I was 'bullied' by this guy, named Paul. Looking back, I'm surprised he was successful as a bully. He was tall, skinny, ginger, and really quite thick. I was in Year two. I can't remember how old that made me, but I was just a yoof. Anyway, like I said, this guy Paul kept annoying me. Generally calling me names, and slapping me when I walked past him. See, it probably wasn't bullying, in the traditional sense of the word, but he always seemed to do it to me, nobody else. I told the teachers about it, but they never bothered saying anything. I wanted justice, damn it! So, one day, I walked past him, and naturally, he slapped the side of my head. I turned to him, and grabbed the collars of his shirt. "That's... It." I whispered to his face.

I picked him up, and started throwing him into the wall, repeatedly. He started to laugh, nervously, in a "Hah. Is that all you've got?" kind of manner. But, the more I kept slapping his bony back against the wall, the laughs started to gradate into crying. A Teacher must have heard this, and ran over to separate us. Obviously, I turned out to be the bad guy. I was caught in the act, and since they didn't give a toss about him picking on me, I was the one who had to talk to her "after class". Obviously, I was a little nervous, although slightly proud of myself. The teacher sat me on the chair opposite her desk, and after we had a little chat, she phoned my parents. When they came in, my mother was furious. She told me how I should never hit another person, no matter what they've done to me, and other related things. I'm sure you've heard it all before. Suddenly, though, she looked at her watch, and said "Okay, I have to go to work, but once you get back from school, you're grounded!" She slammed the school doors, and my attention turned to my dad. He looked to me and said, "No, you're not, Son. Good Job", and slipped me a tenner.

I love my dad.
(Tue 19th May 2009, 19:06, More)

» Top Tips

Bored?
Believe it or not, typing up how bored you are on Facebook doesn't actually cure boredom.
(Fri 17th Jul 2009, 14:18, More)

» Mobile phone disasters

hoo, boy...
This one takes me back. It was about the time when I received my second mobile phone. Prior to this one, I'd only had a Nokia 3310. My father told me I could have a better phone, once I'd shown I was mature and sensible enough to have a phone. Eventually, I'd proven to him that I was not only mature and sensible enough to have a better one, I was mature and sensible enough to have the BEST one.
I forget what it was, since it was a while ago, and I'm not the best guy to speak to when it comes to phones. Anyway, at the time, it was an absolutely amazing thing to behold. Small, sleek, silver and slidy, it was possibly the best piece of technology that my pubescent eyes had seen.
Now, as any phone does, it had a lot of phonecalls to look forward to. And by "a lot", I mean "not very many". For one afternoon, I got a phonecall from my friend, who asked me to meet up. It was Summer, so I was dying to meet up with some chums, and have some banter. However, the invitation was pretty short notice, and I had to meet within ten minutes of getting the call. So I ran over to his house.
On the way, though, I had to cross the busiest highway in my area. When I ran across, my beautiful little phone slipped out of my pocket, and clattered dully onto the road. As I turned my head and gasped, melodramatically, I saw (not a car, not a van, not a lorry but) an eighteen wheeler truck plowing into my phone. As soon as it drove by, I stared at the road. There it was. My lovely little phone's crippled carcass scattered all across the road.

R.I.P. Patrick the phone, 2003-2003. ;'(
(Thu 30th Jul 2009, 23:22, More)

» Buses

The Crazy Lady.
I can't believe I didn't think of this one first. I was sitting on those bile-yellow bus-stop seats, waiting for my bus after a hard day's work. After a little bit of waiting, this young woman sat next to me, and smiled at me, sweetly. She was very attractive, so I returned the gesture. She glanced at me, and opened her mouth slightly, as if to say something, but then stopped. She did this about four times, so needless to say, I was quite perplexed as to what she was doing. Eventually, she turned around, and said "Look, excuse me, but... I hate to ask this, but... do you have any change...? I need to get home, but I haven't got any money".

"Yeah, sure. I've only got 20p, mind. Sorry, it's all I've got". She smiled, and I gave it to her. I actually had about three quid, but I've never been comfortable giving strangers money. Call me mean, but you hear horror stories on the news that start the same way. I felt I did a good thing. It wasn't a massive amount of money, but I felt like it went for a good cause. Anyway, after a short time period, my bus pulled up to the stand, so I stood up, and started to walk over to it. Bad move. As soon as I stood up, the change in my pocket clinked together. "Shit", I thought.

She'd heard it. I just knew she did. Don't ask me how, but I could feel it. There was a silence as I walked up to the bus driver, and I thought I might've been wrong about her hearing me, but no. She runs up to the side of the bus, and shrieks "What, am I not good enough for your money? Huh? Fuck you! Peopl-". I was a little startled by that, but felt kinda comfortable that the bus doors started closing, and her outburst was silenced in the middle. The bus pulled away, and I sat on my seat. I started to relax, and then, horror-upon-horrors, I saw her in the window's reflection...running after the bus.

I feel so thankful to say that she stopped after a few steps, but I was still absolutely petrified. I think I was checking my back for about a week after that one.
(Thu 25th Jun 2009, 15:05, More)

» Top Tips

an Incredibly Nerdy one.
I paint models, and have found that it's easier to paint the more detailed bits with a toothpick dipped in paint. They're thin, and you don't need to worry about the bristles spazzing out when you touch the model.
(Thu 28th May 2009, 9:25, More)