» My computer gave away my secrets

I don't want to have this conversation
Using my Dad's computer the other day I found a picture I wanted to save, so I went to save it in My Pictures. This pulled up the folder and with it an array of big breasted girls wearing pearl necklaces, receiving visitors, etc.

I didn't want to talk about it but I know his girlfriend is computer savvy so I suggested creating a sub-folder called 'Accounts' and putting the porn in there. An incredibly embarrassing little conversation that was. But after all, we all wank and perhaps I should be glad he doesn't secretly like boys / that he's still got lead in his pencil. Euurgh.

Anyway, it was awful but also not that harmful and I had forgotten about it by tea time. Then that night I was on the couch with MY girlfriend having just watched the Devil's Advocate and quite frankly about to have dirty sex. I get a phone call.

'You rotten bugger' opines my father, 'you've corrupted all these files there's just little numbers here now.'

I had to talk him through the display properties... Sitting there half undressed and swatting my girl away from my rapidly deflating cock while I slowly and repeatedly talk my Dad through the business of setting his wank bank up as a slideshow. At which point he cheerfully shouts 'Good one, boy, we're good to go!' presumably referring to himself and his old chap, and hangs up on me.

I felt like I was trapped in my own peculair hell, a nasty quagmire of freudian system administration. Yuck.

Sorry, that is a bit long. Not as long as my Dad's.
(Fri 10th Feb 2006, 15:42, More)

» School Sports Day

third leg
Remember the three-legged race?

Aged about 15 I got tied to the best looking girl in the year for an inter-school sports day. She gave me a jolly stern talking to about tactics and technique, and sure enough we crossed the finishing line first. She was tremendously excited. Unfortunately, so was I.

I don't know what came over me. It must have been the combination of bondage, balmy summer weather, her severe but enthusiastic will to win, or the electricity generated by our thighs pumping together in white-clad wonder.

Whatever. My dad still has a picture of me being presented with my winner's rosette, huge grin plastered on my face, a beautiful girl on my leg and a stonking boner to boot. Cheers!
(Fri 31st Mar 2006, 16:45, More)

» Airport Stories

Beadlemania
At the height of Beadle's About, when the gimp was a staple of Saturday night telly, we once saw the man in Gatwick Airport. We'd just come back from Spain and presumably so had Beadle - but they'd lost his luggage.

He was absolutely furious and started screaming blue murder at the staff... who unsurprisingly burst into stifled laughter.

The terrible little man could not share in the joke and instead jumped up and down on the luggage carousel, provoking massive mirth from everyone in the hall. The more we laughed, the angrier he got.

There's nothing like watching a national legend losing his sense of humour (and his collection of special gimpy luggage) and spit foam all over Gatwick.
(Mon 6th Mar 2006, 14:59, More)

» Teenage Parties

Sometimes I feel like, I don't have a partner
When I was 14 me and my mate Dave got invited to ALL the cool parties because of his absurd beard, the guy had loads of stubble even though his voice was still a bit falsetto and he would take everyone's money and buy them booze at a massive mark up. I was his wingman and in charge of the other necessary - drugs.

One time we went to a party in Surrey, at the house of a guy who had a pool, lived on a golf course, etc. I met this lovely lass called Penny and spent the entire night plying her with Malibu, listening to Alive by Pearl Jam and trying to prize my way into her pants. She resisted coyly, moving my hand back to her miniscule boobies a total of two million times during the evening. As any boy will tell you, this chaste behaviour wins girls the respect they so richly deserve - bollocks, I denounced her as a frigid cow, bitterly, and put her top of the wank bank as punishment.

Next Friday, I'm chilling at my crib, home video dubbing.. the phone rings and it's this lass Penny. She's having a party! Will me and Dave come and bring all the booze and drugs we can carry??

No. Sorry Penny, it's a long way and I'm kinda busy.

If you come I'll let you finger me.

Jesus wept. I hung up the phone. Even as a 14 year old drug addled desperate perv, some behaviour is just too much.
(Tue 18th Apr 2006, 15:00, More)

» Worst Nicknames Ever

The Cat
One time, I went sailing on a boat to New Zealand with some lads I didn't know. I don't know if any of you have ever been on boat in the ocean, but the bloody things are a menace to the malco-ordinated, as treacherous as a rotating disco dancefloor. I got a bit of a reputation for falling over. You know, suddenly flying across the gallery, smashing my brains on the cooker and spilling hot stew everywhere, or tripping over my feet as I rushed forward to rip down a sail during a storm. Or, when the boat really heeled over, suddenly falling off the toilet, smashing the shitter door to smithereens and crashing into the fucking bridge of the ship with my massive canvas trousers round my ankles.

They nicknamed me 'The Cat'.

For some reason I didn't make the connection between this nickname and my total lack of agility. Instead I thought it was a reference to my good looks, lively attitude, and cool dude behaviour.

"You mean," I asked, "Like The Cat in Red Dwarf?"

From that day forward I was known as Dwayne Dibley.
(Fri 19th May 2006, 17:07, More)