b3ta.com user doctor sideburns
You are not logged in. Login or Signup
Profile for doctor sideburns:
Profile Info:

Longtime lurker, occasional poster... Cyclist, law student, dissatisfied worker... you know, the usual stuff.

If my job was engaging or challenging in any way, I wouldn't be here. I don't think many of us would.

Feel free to mail me about anything, especially legal stuff, cycling issues, especially fixed gear and single speed cycling, humour, offers of marriage (if you're incredibly wealthy, sexy, modest, well adjusted and female) or to volunteer to donate bundles of cash to help fund my studies.

Or just because. I don't mind!

[email protected]

Recent front page messages:


none

Best answers to questions:

» Shoddy Presents

God-bothering aunt
God-bothering, self-righteous, political activist, short-arsed primary school teacher and missionary (honestly, I kid you not) aunt.

What sort of present is she going to buy a heathen, drunken, drug-hoovering student nephew? Beer? nope. A CD? Don't be silly? Something practical, Maybe a nice pair of socks? Still no cigar.

A book of Bible Stories.

Ta. No, really....
(Fri 24th Sep 2004, 11:15, More)

» Shoddy Presents

Oh, comedy....
Once, not so long ago, my mum asked me if there was anything I might like for christmas.
After ruling out a new car, a house and a balooning holiday in Kazakhstan, I settled on "Yes, actually mum, I'd quite like some comedy. You know, a video, a DVD, someone funny. Eddie Izzard, Jack Dee, maybe The Fast Show... That sort of thing"
Now, in my mum's world, this roughly equates to "I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue" and "The Goons, series 2".
On bloody audio tape. I hardly knew how to thank her.
I don't own a cassette player, haven't for years.
(Fri 24th Sep 2004, 10:40, More)

» Crap meals out

Wet, microwaved, bread.
All afficionados of wet, microwaved bread might like to note that, contrary to poular belief, the delicacy is not extinct on these shores, but is alive and well, like the oyster carefully enveloping such pearls as 'bacon cheese burger' or 'chicken fillet and bacon'.
Examples of this once commonplace quisine were believed to have been driven from our shores by the rise of the 'Gastropub' in the 1990s, although it was hoped that a pocket of resistance clung to life in a third rate factory staff canteen in the east midlands. For some time now though, the management of "The Britannia" in the cosmopolitan, forward-thinking Oxford suburb of Headington have been keeping a secret, and it's a very dark one.
Actually, it's a white secret, and, like that other albino rarity the white truffle, it's location, even it's existence has been hidden by a few sworn initiates. Until now.
Yes, for the first time in a decade, I can reveal to you that the "badly microwaved on a plate" burger is back in town. Indeed, it may never have been away.
So, for those of you unlucky enough not to have this culinary mecca as your local, what does the much sought-after WMB delicacy tase like? Nothing. Disappointingly, most of it had returned to it's pre-baked, doughy state, (and had adhered to the plate before continuting to cook,leaving rough scales of wheat paste on the crockery,) although some of the deeper layers of permafrost within the white fluffy 'bun' had only thawed sufficiently to allow the bread to dribble through my fingers when I picked the burger up.
Yes, the bread was bland, nay, tasteless, utterly devoid of susbstance and nutritional value and uninspiring. As a special treat, it appears that I had been recognised by the serving staff as the acclaimed critic of crap tucker that I am, and they had treated me to the wrong burger. Yes, I was presented with the chicken variety rather than the beef and cheese I had foolishly anticipated.
Yes, my work in Headington was done, gold had been struck, and I could go back to my humdrum existence with the memory of this day forever circled in silly gold marker in the mental calendar inside my brain... Indeed, I was so bowled over by the standards I'd encountered that it was several hours before I was calm enough to write any of this down.
The Britannia, London Road, Headington. Burgers about a fiver. Beer available to wash the clag away. Booking NOT advised.

I'm not sorry for length, girth or anything else. God MADE me do it!
(Tue 2nd May 2006, 14:08, More)

» The last thing that made me cry

Last night...
...*Obviously* I'm normally rock hard and never cry at anything, even when god kills a kitten, but last night, after more than several whiskies, explaining to my mate (who was honestly trying to help the situation) how I felt an utter failure for dropping out of Law School a second time, and how I so badly wanted to succeed at it, because I wanted my dad, who I watched die when OI was 7 years old, to be proud of me.

Bugger. Crying in public. How very un-British!
(Thu 14th Apr 2005, 12:00, More)

» Guilty Pleasures

Pissing....
...in my housemate's bathwater.
Not now, you understand, but a while back, when he was getting on my tits. The fella spent a fortune on all sorts of girly-lard and poncey pongs. Oh, the delicious irony of him bathing in piss....

Still makes me actually laugh out loud, even now!
(Tue 12th Apr 2005, 10:29, More)
[read all their answers]