When I was a student,
finishing at 1pm almost every day meant that daytime TV became not only a significant amount of my time, but also a downright necessity after a few months.

My TV watching would start at about 1.30pm when I could watch the end of BBC Points West while unpacking my things. The fun really started at 1.45pm when I'd watch Neighbours so that I could spoil it for my flatmates when they wanted to watch it later. Usually Neighbours was closely followed by Diagnosis Murder (an absolutely cracking show) and then Monk. By this point my flatmates arrived home so I'd usually make a cup of tea and wait the few minutes for Countdown to start, then it was only 15 minutes or so of watching something random before Richard and Judy or the Paul O Grady Show started, or we'd watch Neighbours again if it was a good one at lunchtime. That would last until 6pm when I could watch the Simpsons, then Hollyoaks, then at 7pm I'd cook dinner. At 8pm there was normally something good on, and if there wasn't we'd all go down the pub. Sometimes I could end up watching TV from 1.30pm til midnight, almost non-stop.

Addicted? Me?! Never.
(The Oscillating Gibbon is eating curried squid, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 11:15, 10 replies)

the smell of freshly unwrapped post-it notes
I don't know what they do to them but it smells soooooo good.
(happylittletulip helpless and delicious, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 11:14, 7 replies)

Return to Castle Wolfenstein
I'm not really addicted to much, well apart from "Lost" and having new hobbies every week and buying stupid things to fuel them (last week was a Sitar, the week before that some stupidly expensive wireless headsets for an internal phone network at home, the list is endless and probably for more than one coming QoTW.)

However, rarely do I get addicted to any one thing - Lost is one of these, and quite honestly the only thing I have ever been addicted to on TV. Months have gone by without the thing being turned on, but when LOST is back, then it'll be on for every second it's being broadcast.

Anyway, RTCW was a bit like that.

Got given a copy as a leaving present some years ago.

My PC then was in my garage as I was turfed out of my 'spare' room when sprog number one was born.

I would sit and play for hours, indeed on one occassion I bunked off work to sit in a steaming hot garage in the middle of summer to play all day.

Of course, every time I closed my eyes I could see the insides of the rooms, or German soldiers shouting "Gott Im Himmel" and Zombies falling out of crumbling walls.

On one of these days of bunking off to play, the heat inside the locked garage was getting unbearable and I had to go outside, if for nothing more than being able to breath.

I was sitting on a little bench I used to have in the garden having a cigarette, when I heard the words "Dchurch, you must come here and have beer wiv me" in broken English and a strong German accent.

My instant reaction was to drop the cigarrete and grab my (non-existent) gun and point it in the direction of the German voice.

As a man in his thirties at that time, I reflected that this was inappropriate way of greeting my German neighbour and had to give up RTCW for good lest they sent the men in white coats to give me a special coat.

I think I had a lucky escape, and if I were of a weaker character, I could be dead by now (presumably beaten up by visiting German tourists for pointing invisible Tommy guns at them).
(dchurch bah, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 10:54, 6 replies)

Vicodin
I have a dent in my head, I do, I do! It is more like a dimple in my noggin as opposed to a complete cranial cave-in, but I am proud of this war wound from Battledome: Motorway. I’m not so proud of how it happened – a romantic Valentine’s date of college ice hockey with a young man who looked like a rat ended when, in an attempt to show off and win my undying love (read: some undershirt action and a blow job), he triggered a 30 car pile-up just outside Detroit by smashing my face into the front of a lorry. Speed doesn’t kill, kids, teenage boys trying to get laid kill.

I spent three days in the hospital so the doctors could verify that my brain wouldn’t pop, then was sent away with a torso hugging (it had a belt!) plastic and metal neck brace and a prescription to Vicodin.

The next few months are a haze. I remember attending classes, strapping myself into my neck brace and – most importantly – I started a relationship with a young man named Aaron. Aaron sat by my side as I popped my Vicodin and drifted off to sleep. He held my hand throughout the night and mopped my tired Vicodin-ed brow. He bought me flowers, he massaged my back, he read to me. He got me more Vicodin.

By this time, I was addicted in earnest. What was meant to be a 2-a-day medicinal habit turned into a 20-a-day requirement. I had convinced myself that as long as I needed the neck brace, I needed my Vicodin. The need, however, turned into an all-encompassing quest. Vicodin was my life.

Eventually my mother staged an intervention. It was just like in the films – me in bed thrashing about in the agony of withdrawal, wailing and begging for just a single pill. What I remember most was the abject suicidal depression which coursed through me as the Vicodin left my system. I couldn’t bear to live unless it was through a haze. Vicodin used to have me in its grip, without it I wanted to die.

Eventually my body and mind righted themselves, and I was shipped back to University with instructions to my friends to absolutely verify that I wasn’t titted up on pills. I still had the neck brace, but I had a clear mind.

Aaron greeted me with open arms, glad to see me return to the land of the living. The only problem was that I had spent all of our relationship completely high, and I hardly remembered any of it. Find out, he was the most bloody annoying person I had ever met, a clingy creature with rotten socks. He knew nothing of me but my Vicodin naps, I could hardly pick him out of a lineup. And he tanged of farts. I dumped him by the end of my first day back.

Drug addictions make you have sex with people who smell of poots. Let this cautionary tale be a lesson to you all.
(TheSnark oh, c'mon, like you didn't see me coming, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 10:35, Reply)

Tabloids
I fucking hate Tabloid newspapers, yet I just can't stop reading them.

The sole reason for this is that I love to use them as an outlet for my scorn (namely towards the people who write them, and the people who read them).

I also can't help but troll newspaper sites. Not in a nasty way, just in a pointing-out-the-blindingly-fucking-obvious-to-anyone-except-the-people-who-actually-read-the-newspaper way.



I also watch 'popular TV' (Little Britain, Big Brother, etc) just so I can scream "FUCK OFF! FUCK THE FUCK OFF!" at the TV, loudly and repeatedly.
(Half of Stephen Fry's right buttock pissed on your dog on, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 10:33, 2 replies)

Usual ones I'm afraid
I've never been as 'bad?' as some of the people on here but I was on a similar path in my younger years.

I got myself into about £17k's worth of debt via alcohol, drugs and going out and ended up not being able to pay them off, so I strategically left a few credit card bills lying around for my parents to find.

So thanks to the bank of Mum and Dad all of my debts were paid off and I sorted out a repayment plan to them.

Unfortunately what I failed to do was actually cancel all of the cards..... yes, you can guess where this is going!

The banks loved me, I’d run up a load of interest and then paid the lot off, so how did the banks repay me for this? They upped my credit limits, Halifax for instance gave me £18k (I was only earning £22k at the time) and all the rest added up to just over £30k

My God! And they wonder why people get into debt?

I was having a great time, going out every night getting drunk/high, making loads of new friends. It's amazing how many hangers on you can get when you throw money around.

Problem was that nothing lasts forever and within 6 months I got to the point where I was drawing money on one card to pay another, until all the limits ran out that is.

And then do their attitudes change or what? Bailiffs, threats and courts. I refused to go bankrupt as that's a cop-out as far as I'm concerned, I'd spent it so I'll pay it back thanks, so interest was stopped and payment plans were arranged

Very little money = very little fun, so that stopped abruptly, within a week all of my new friends had found someone else to leech off.

7 years later it’s all paid off.

I have no credit rating at all, which is a good thing I suppose.

I earn a good salary now, so can afford the nicer things in life but now I only pay with cash.

Good luck to all those in the same boat as I was.

(And don’t get credit! Unless you’re sensible that is)


As a note I'd just like to say that I think the banks should do more to stop people doing what I did, it would have been very obvious what I was up to so they should have lowered my limits and/or stopped the cards, but hey!



(Kip, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 10:29, 84 replies)

A shmoke and a pancake.
A friend of mine was addicted to fags but wanted to quit. After a number of failed attempts somebody told him he needed to find a displacement activity to keep his hands busy. As we were students at the time I would have suggested holding a pen and actually doing some studying, but he visited a craft shop and bought a children’s activity box that contained all the materials for making little plaster of paris teddy bears, the idea being he could spend hours painting them instead of chain smoking.

I phoned him a few days later and asked how he was getting on. He said he hadn't smoked any cigarettes but he was on 20 teddies a day.
( Colonel Dracula Two manky hookers and a racist dwarf, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 10:22, 2 replies)

Hot Hot Hot
I'm addicted to very hot peri peri chilli sauce. On everything. (Chilli milkshake....hmmmmmmmm). It did, however, assist in me giving up cigarettes a great deal and I would suggest anyone giving it a try - Just one drop on the tip of your tongue and try to get some on the back of your throat. It told my brain I'd had a fag and it didn't bother me for an hour. Thing is...is it better to die of cancer....or a stomach ulcer?
(wazhead, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 9:33, 2 replies)

I'm addicted to porn.
It's not a laughing matter. Shoving copies of Slippery Nurses through a hypodermic is harder than you think. Smoking it isn't much better.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 9:22, 7 replies)

Physically assaulting God-botherers
This is a weird addiction, so bear with me.

I really hate religion. I hate everything about it. I've had a problem containing the rage since school days, when the local vicar would preach his bullshit during assembly where I had to patiently absorb it or suffer the wrath of the headmaster.

My vitriol is now at the point where just seeing a member of the cloth brings the red mist down. I've even had to be restrained by my friends before, most recently after verbally attacking a bishop on his way to a service. I nearly got arrested for that one but I didn't care. I've realised I get a massive buzz out of intimidating the sanctimonious fuckers.

To make matters worse, I recently moved into a shared house and met a like-minded chap. He shares my contempt for theological brainwashing; if anything he's strengthened my resolve to take it to the next level, so we've formulated a plan.

We live pretty close to a Roman Catholic convent so we're going to go out early next Sunday morning and wait for those pretentious black-clad cunts to make their way to the church. My flatmate bought a pair of steel toe-capped DMs for the occasion, which might be pushing it too far. I'm meant to distract them while he kicks one of the sisters squarely up the arse.

It's dangerous, but we're both determined to kick the Habit.



What?
( chart cat has an itch, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 8:08, 13 replies)

Bah fuckin humbug ...
God what a depressing QOTW a week out from Christmas.

So here's a late entry for Cringe.

My mother slipped in the shower and fractured her L4 vertebra. Well that's Christmas scunnered.

The inconsiderate cow.

Anyway, I have recently spent many frantic hours in our nearest A&E trying to amuse two little girls, aged 5 and 2, for fuck knows how long.

They were well entertained by an impromptu blow-up latex glove puppet show for a bit, much to the amusement of my fellow waiting room internees.

Now this particular hospital also happens to be the war veterans hospital. So that moment all parents dread was just around the corner.

You know the one I'm talking about.

The moment when an amputee comes within the range of your child's curious gaze. My first born child reacted with bemused but silent interest in the elderly (WW2?) veteran who sat close-by. He had lost his left arm just below the elbow.

The nurse called us in to talk about my Mum.

I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

Just as we were mustering ourselves, 5yo politely asks the elderly amputee "Excuse me, but what happened to your arm?"

CRINGE!!!

He gave this beetroot faced poster a wry grin and beckoned 5yo girl closer. He then said in a low voice.

"I was picking my nose."

The look of utter horror on my wee one's face was just magic.

I then had to talk to a nurse about my mother's need for back surgery whilst trying not to wee myself from suppressed giggles.

Merry Christmas all you loverly B3tans.
(Que?, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 2:30, 9 replies)

So my friend Karen
She's just recently dumped her boyfriend of five years after realising she's a lesbian.

I guess you could call that a dick shun!
(Dangerous Disco Trev Isn't my real name, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 2:13, Reply)

Porn.
Not me (though I must admit I'm not averse to a bit now and again, phwooooar, eh?) but my mate, lets call him, oooh I dunno, Bob. Yes, that'll do. Each and every time he gets drunk (which is a lot) his eyes will narrow, his big tounge will slowly slide out of his chops and he'll slur "Have.... have you got any deeveedees?"

Why he asks me this almost every time I see him is beyond me, as I have never owned a porn DVD in my life. Sure, I had a few old VHS tapes when I was young (yellowish 80's porn, ah nostalgia), but upon acquiring my first PC I typed the famed words "Gail Porter" into a search engine and never looked back, except to check my missus wasn't standing behind me.

My other friend, lets call him, erm... Ralph, knows a man who sells DVDs, among them some filthy pornos. My mate Bob got wind of this and so every so often, he'll save some of his giro and give it to Ralph to buy porn for him..... the only problem being that Ralph told the guy he wanted the worst, most horrible, rubbish old crappy pornos he had to offer, just for a laugh. Having "checked" (his words) a few before giving them over, he says they have included vast hairy german women, ladyboys, and on one occasion, a fetish film about vegetables. He's never received a complaint once.

The thought of it makes me feel quite ill.
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 1:30, 2 replies)

Dear Ted.
It was me who stole your shoes and did a shit in them.

Sorry. I was just being a dick, Ted.
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 1:10, Reply)

checking my university email
since i'm waiting to see whether i got into honours for next year.
not really funny, and not really an addiction, but i'm slowly going mental as we have no idea when they're going to let us know.
argh.
(charlottebronte stalking through the moors, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 0:50, 1 reply)

Cocaine.
My Family, friends and Wife all think i have an addiction to Coke, It's not true, i just REALLY like the smell.
(Funkwomble XBL and PSN DangerBoy73, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 23:57, Reply)

im addicted
to matching current QOTW to old ones....

ahem....


guilty pleasures sound familiar...


ahhhhhhhhh
(Dan dan dan They tik urh jerbs!!!, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 23:53, Reply)

I had to get rid of my PS2
after I started playing Ratchet and clank in my sleep.
( fuck shit up the best you never had, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 23:50, 6 replies)

I could put this in words
But I feel the brothers Gallagher put it much better than I ever could...

Is it my imagination
Or have I finally found something worth living for?
I was looking for some action
But all I found was cigarettes and alcohol

You could wait for a lifetime
To spend your days in the sunshine
You might as well do the white line
Cos when it comes on top . . .

You gotta make it happen!

Is it worth the aggravation
To find yourself a job when there's nothing worth working for?
It's a crazy situation
But all I need are cigarettes and alcohol!

You could wait for a lifetime
To spend your days in the sunshine
You might as well do the white line
Cos when it comes on top . . .

You gotta make it happen!
( jim_bob can herd cats., Sun 21 Dec 2008, 23:26, 2 replies)

The smell
of a new star wars figure straight out of the packet.
(meat2veg hello!, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 21:42, 7 replies)

.
I've never really managed to work up an addiction with any real bite. I'm something of a boozehound but am never drunk or hungover, just a social boozer. I like to smoke, but have never smoked more than a couple of packs a month and an eighth of grass lasts me weeks.

I love the internet and various aspects of it, but it goes down I just throw myself into my work or catch up on DVDs. Also, I love my food, and have to have a fix of junk, or a bloody steak covered in sauce, but I also eat pretty healthily in between and keep myself reasonably trim.

However.

Then there's sex.

I just gotta. If I don't it just drives me/my nuts and only constant pron keeps me from stacking up the women and generally being a bastard, which I couldn't live with.

I've had meaningful girlfriends and friends with benefits and lots of agreeable one night stands, but i've also had the sort of bunk-ups that really make you bite down hard on your fist in the morning. I've slept with other people's girls, i've had random unprotected sex and it's a miracle I never picked anything up (and carried on spreading it).

As I get older it seems to be a fading issue, not that busting a nut is far from my mind even now...
(Jay Tea, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 20:16, Reply)

Correcting other people's grammar
Because for gods sake is it really to hard not to sound like your illiterate?
(Mr._F is not actually a man- this username is a lie!, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 20:05, 12 replies)

Ooh thought of something!
I'm addicted to hugs.
Cuddles, snuggles, cwtches.. I just need to feel physical affection.
I am a naturally happy person and despite certain stresses it will take quite a lot to break me.
But if I go for even a few days without being able to have a hug I just feel really down.
No matter what happens, it feels like when I get that little bit of affection, everything is alright again.

I've been ill for the past week. I'm almost better now but I haven't been able to go out (save for work the past two days.)
This means that I'm desperate to see my friends so I can get my fix.

If only I could buy a hug machine to keep with me, I'd be happy forever!
( Mellicious is made of candy, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 20:05, 9 replies)

Hmm...
*Eating boxes of Sunmaid raisins like a 5 year old

*Cartons of Rubicon mango juice (any food favoured by toddlers perhaps)

*Watching Screenwipe on youtube

*Obsessively IMDBing films immediately after viewing so that I can stock up on useless trivia.

*The smell of petrol

*Silver jewellery (You can never have enough)

Who needs class As and booze?!
(Eldoofus, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 19:39, 10 replies)

Thai Sweet Chilli Sauce!!!!!
Goes with bloody everything! =D
(Cockney_Jesus is targetting your mum in V.A.T.S!, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 19:14, 5 replies)

Peanut Butter
I could eat it on anything. I've eaten it spread on cereal bars, toast, crumpets, croissants, apples, bananas....

It's the best spread ever!
(YayLady is cold, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 19:03, 6 replies)

hmmm
I'm addicted to cigarettes, books and high heels. Though it looks like I may be developing a serious addiction to faux vintage underwear and clothing.
Damn you interweb!
( hedge_diver, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 18:22, Reply)

to cut a long story short
cannabis, cigarettes, caffeine, sugar, sex, cocaine & speed.

[and completely, systematically fucking everything up.]

not a dabbling sorts me,

i just go straight for the kill.


*gets hoodie and leaves*
(dresden, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 18:06, 3 replies)

When I was 18 I started drinking
By the time I stopped ten years later I was drinking every night, had snapped my banjo string having a go on the village bike and was throwing up blood every now and again.

I've been dry seven months now.
( CowJam, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 17:51, 2 replies)

I'm addicted to being a childish git sometimes...
I really am...

I don't operate like most humans... I can't be sensible (well i can, but not for long)...

I like giving people innapropriate or unrelated nick names that don't mean anything... Such as my mate Tony, I call him (Martell, Boxmitt, Montolio, Partario) well anything but Tony... The taxi driver now thinks he's jewish.

Also i took great pleasure in calling one guy (who was called Mike), I always, always kept calling him Jimmy.... In clubs, bars, shops... every time i saw him. 'Hi Jimmy mate...' 'Alright Jim'...

Also another mate (funnily enough a real Jimmy .ak.a Afro Jimmy, Jimbrilm or SM58*) who was a very (afro-headed) lazy pot-head, also succumbed to my weekly cupboard re-arrangements... Without fail, he would 'gifts' and 'treats' such as shoes, garden ornaments and on once occasion all his food had been replaced with 'magic beans'.

For about a year...

Addiction 2:

If I ever play online games, I LOVE causing bother... Not in an insulting way, but more like trying to convince other guilds that they have an English celebrity in their midst, such as Nicholas Lyndhurst.

On the Kul Tiras server of world of warcraft, i've convinced about six guilds that 'he is just keeping quiet and doesn't like to be disturbed'... I don't know why, but for me that is far more fun than anything else...

Happy Christmas n00bs...




* Google it
(mr-lizard Hell's teeth man!, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 17:46, 3 replies)