» Road Rage

I wouldn't if I was you....
my angelic* (*may contain lies) brother Weazal is not to be messed with when on two (non-motored)wheels.

After returning home on many occasions with tales of, well I can't repeat the actually words for fear of being instantly shunned by polite society, let's just call them "muppets with driving licences" I recall one particular fine example of rider rage on his part.
A motorist had basically rode Weazal in the curb causing him to fall from his bike. After Weazal had worked his way through his set list of words, he picked up his bike and chased after the car which had stopped at a set of traffic lights ahead.
Now the sight of a lanky 37 year old kitted out in shinpads, bash hat and a quite rare model of BMX bike may have been startling enough as it swerves in front of him.
But I think the point at which the guy shat himself was when Weazal got off his bike, picked it up and dumped it on the car's bonnet and enquired in a loud voice
"do you want a closer look mate!"
(Wed 18th Oct 2006, 13:06, More)

» I just don't get it

untidy Weazal
Weazal is my brother and is very untidy, so this is a very narrow band of WTF.
How can you eat something, and put the wrapper down on the desk and not think to put it in the bin, which sits less than a yard away from the computer desk??
I have a theory that femminism is to blame, blokes have been told not to look at women's breasts, so they now don't lower their eyes and therefore once it's left their hand, it not longer visually exists
(Thu 31st Mar 2005, 12:51, More)

» The passive-aggressive guilt trip

I'd have rather taken the expected thrashing......
In my youth, (about 10 years old) I went through a phase of supplementing my low pocket money rate by liberating coinage from my Mum's purse.
Being only 10 and not very cunning, I was found out and ordered to my room to awaiting what I thought would be the expected thrashing.

But she had learnt new tricks.....

Mum walked into my room, emptied the contents of her purse onto my bed and said
"if you want it so much, you can take it"
and then walked out.

emotional bruising leaves no scars for social workers to find

edit: ooo top of page one, surely that's the new "first post"
(Thu 13th Oct 2005, 13:08, More)

» Guilty Secrets

Virtually....
I am using Second Life to become a online Domme

(edit: and since they introduced voice, I have been told the English accent is a bonus)
(Mon 3rd Sep 2007, 12:55, More)

» That's when I knew it was over...

The shortest houseshare in the world
Karen had been my "best" friend since first school, in fact when I got given Bowthorpe as my allocated secondary school (my third choice as it was a teen chav holding pen)I was really upset until she called to say she had got that too.
We had been through a lot together, the whole teenager girl experience and stayed friends, anyway Karen went into the world of work after 1 year of 6th form and I stayed put in 6th form for another year.
Did I see the cracks appearing? no I was blinded by the "bond of friendship"
For example, being used as a cover for her to go drinking and get out of the house she shared with her boyfriend Andy and pick up random blokes (well she did look like Kylie), she abandoned me in a bar/disco one night because she had "seen some bloke we use to go to school with and was going for a short walk"
Poor Andy, he thought she was being nice and getting me, chubby girl out into town for evenings of girly chat and drinks.
Anyway, I finally left school and home and got into a house share (with a girl whos flatmate's mum knew my mum etc). When she left to get married, I had to find a new sharer and being new to the flatmate world stupidly picked the first person who answered the ad, who didn't sound like a complete psycho.
She didn't sound like a psycho, but dear god as I learned they don't all sound nuts.
After screwing me and the landlord over for rent and bills, I decided enough was enough and asked her to leave, on the grounds it wasn't working and my friend Karen was looking to move out of her parents at that time and share.
Thankfully she went easy and the day of Karen moving in came. Her Dad and current boyfriend arrived and deposited the first full car load of stuff into her room and went back for more. They came back half an hour later, no boxes in hand and proceded to remove the stuff they had already moved in, while her Dad (really decent chap, what he did to deserve a daughter like her, god only knows) explained that Karen had had a change of heart and decided, as she was applying for jobs in London HQ of NU that her "brief" remaining time in Norwich should be best spent in the parental home (where her parents could continue to panda to her every wish and whim)
Leaving me high and dry with a full house rent and bills ( I was only temping at the time and therefore poor as a churchmouse)
camel, back, straw
BTW - she, to my knowledge, never did escape to London's bright lights of insurance HQ)

There was a lot of other stuff that she did before this, that I personally wouldn't do to someone I considered a "best" friend which I ignored/didn't see/etc, but I don't want to explain further lest I overflow the level of bitterness and hurt that this QOTW has already reached.
The invite to her wedding a few years later included a handwritten note which said as she knew I "didn't like weddings" she would "quite understand" if I decided not to come, boll*cks, she was scared than under the influence of a free bar I would tell her family and new husband and the members of her church where the used bodies/condoms where hidden.
This pain has been eased last month by seeing her in the Poundstretcher near my office looking like a worn-out, 36, mother of three (which she now is). My brother Weazal, who had a major crush on her as a teenager, has seen her too and agreed she is no "yummy mummy" and said he definitely wouldn't.
(Sun 24th Jul 2005, 22:03, More)