Profile for cciulla:
A fan from across the pond.
This is me, first thing in the morning, prior to coffee. Normally I keep my hair much shorter -- here, I'm looking like a rag bag. I'm probably older than 99% of the board, but I'm an immature bastard, so I guess that evens things out a tad.
Alternatively, here's me as a South Park character.
My most recent favorite (albeit underrated) wanking:
First attempt at doing something artsy with my photos. This is a pic I snapped when we were out hiking in April '05. The pic of my daughter was taken in November '00.
Recent front page messages:
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Best answers to questions:
- a member for 19 years, 0 months and 26 days
- has posted 1354 messages on the main board
- has posted 1 messages on the talk board
- has posted 0 messages on the links board
- has posted 2 stories and 0 replies on question of the week
- They liked 16 pictures, 0 links, 0 talk posts, and 11 qotw answers.
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A fan from across the pond.
This is me, first thing in the morning, prior to coffee. Normally I keep my hair much shorter -- here, I'm looking like a rag bag. I'm probably older than 99% of the board, but I'm an immature bastard, so I guess that evens things out a tad.
Alternatively, here's me as a South Park character.
My most recent favorite (albeit underrated) wanking:
First attempt at doing something artsy with my photos. This is a pic I snapped when we were out hiking in April '05. The pic of my daughter was taken in November '00.
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
» The last thing that made me cry
True Story
My wife was put on "bed rest" in the hospital when she was pregnant with my son. We weren't expecting him to come along for another week or two, so I went to work.
A couple hours later, I get a call from my aunt-in-law -- my wife's in labor. I tear-ass to the hospital, going 70+ mph in a 40mph zone, and 120+ mph in a 55mph zone.
After I get to the hospital, there's much running about in wingtips, and I barely make it to the birthing room. I'm there for about two minutes -- long enough to hold my wife's hand -- and out rockets my son. Literally. He popped out with such force that he ricocheted off the doctor's chest and landed on my arm. Fortunately, someone caught him before he slipped off and did some umbilical bungee-ing.
I began a full-on cry at this point.
As I've only been in the room for two minutes, I didn't have an opportunity to get a good look at anyone other than my wife. Up from my wife's business end comes an East Indian doctor who says, "Congratulations. Your son has committed his first assault."
So, there I was, winded, crying, and uncontrollably laughing like a mong.
(Wed 20th Apr 2005, 13:42, More)
True Story
My wife was put on "bed rest" in the hospital when she was pregnant with my son. We weren't expecting him to come along for another week or two, so I went to work.
A couple hours later, I get a call from my aunt-in-law -- my wife's in labor. I tear-ass to the hospital, going 70+ mph in a 40mph zone, and 120+ mph in a 55mph zone.
After I get to the hospital, there's much running about in wingtips, and I barely make it to the birthing room. I'm there for about two minutes -- long enough to hold my wife's hand -- and out rockets my son. Literally. He popped out with such force that he ricocheted off the doctor's chest and landed on my arm. Fortunately, someone caught him before he slipped off and did some umbilical bungee-ing.
I began a full-on cry at this point.
As I've only been in the room for two minutes, I didn't have an opportunity to get a good look at anyone other than my wife. Up from my wife's business end comes an East Indian doctor who says, "Congratulations. Your son has committed his first assault."
So, there I was, winded, crying, and uncontrollably laughing like a mong.
(Wed 20th Apr 2005, 13:42, More)
» When I met the parents
First (and last) Date with Gen
What I'm about to tell you is true except:
* I saw her again
* The banana stuck to the wall.
* Names have been changed to protect the innocent
I went round to pick Gen up, and was left waiting... Alone... With the parents.
The Dad was this scrawny, little guy who busied himself by asking me the usual Dadesque questions.
The Dad: "So, what do you plan on doing after you graduate?" ("Do you plan on shagging my daughter?")
Me: "Well, I was thinking of joining the Navy." ("Yes, sir, in the ass, twice.").
At least The Dad and I were playing by the rules.
In comes The Mom. The Mom was this gynormous beastly creature -- sans bra -- wearing one of those long tee-shirts. Four sizes too small. Period. After the grinning introductions, she's quiet. For the moment. (In literary circles, this is known as foreshadowing.)
Out comes Gen (freshly showered), looking more or less radiant. She comes over, sits on my lap, and chastely kisses me on the cheek. How sweet is that?
Anyway, The Dad and I are having a nice conversation, when the gals decided that we were monopolizing the conversation.
At the point when The Dad says, "Well, we're living in this shithole because we've just filed bankruptcy," Gen blurts out, "I want 8 inches." Horrified and embarrassed, my jaw drops.
The Mom doesn't even blink. "What do you want 'em to do, Gen? Whitewash your tonsils?"
Holy fucking shit.
Being the nice guy I am, I took her out anyway.
Other than during class, I never saw her again.
The banana, on the other hand, hit the wall with a wet smack and began its slow decent to the floor.
(Thu 19th May 2005, 18:43, More)
First (and last) Date with Gen
What I'm about to tell you is true except:
* I saw her again
* The banana stuck to the wall.
* Names have been changed to protect the innocent
I went round to pick Gen up, and was left waiting... Alone... With the parents.
The Dad was this scrawny, little guy who busied himself by asking me the usual Dadesque questions.
The Dad: "So, what do you plan on doing after you graduate?" ("Do you plan on shagging my daughter?")
Me: "Well, I was thinking of joining the Navy." ("Yes, sir, in the ass, twice.").
At least The Dad and I were playing by the rules.
In comes The Mom. The Mom was this gynormous beastly creature -- sans bra -- wearing one of those long tee-shirts. Four sizes too small. Period. After the grinning introductions, she's quiet. For the moment. (In literary circles, this is known as foreshadowing.)
Out comes Gen (freshly showered), looking more or less radiant. She comes over, sits on my lap, and chastely kisses me on the cheek. How sweet is that?
Anyway, The Dad and I are having a nice conversation, when the gals decided that we were monopolizing the conversation.
At the point when The Dad says, "Well, we're living in this shithole because we've just filed bankruptcy," Gen blurts out, "I want 8 inches." Horrified and embarrassed, my jaw drops.
The Mom doesn't even blink. "What do you want 'em to do, Gen? Whitewash your tonsils?"
Holy fucking shit.
Being the nice guy I am, I took her out anyway.
Other than during class, I never saw her again.
The banana, on the other hand, hit the wall with a wet smack and began its slow decent to the floor.
(Thu 19th May 2005, 18:43, More)