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» Terrible Parenting

A friend of mine...
Used to live in Wales, next to a prison. His dad would take him for a walk round the block most evenings before bed, and every time there was a woman outside the prison walls, shouting:

'KEVIN! KEVIN!'
A light would then flick on in the prison, and shouts would be returned:
'SHARLENE! SHARLENE!'
'OH KEVIN, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!'
'I LOVE YOU TOO, SHARLENE!'
etc etc.

One evening, he was strolling round with my friend in his pushchair, when he noticed a distinct absence of Sharlene. He began shouting:
'OI! KEVIN!'
Light flicks on, Kevin replies,
'WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!'
'KEVIN! I'M BANGING SHARLENE!'
Then all you could hear is prisoner going nuts inside his cell, screaming profanities from the window.

How responsible is antagonising prison inmates with your young child in tow?
(Mon 20th Aug 2007, 17:27, More)

» Mobile phone disasters

Mobile internet
Shortly after Christmas a couple of years back, I got my first ever phone with internet. This was exciting. Sadly, the screen was tiny, and the keyboard non-existent, so actually using it was a massive pain in the behind. Regardless, as it was a cool new toy, I used it fairly frequently, including on one day using it to look up some cooking stuff.

One of the articles was 'Better baked potatoes'. The advice given was twofold - first of all, rub oil and salt into the skin for extra crispyness. Secondly, don't slice it open with a knife when it is cooked - punch or karate chop it for extra fluffiness.

Obviously I was excited by these new cookery techniques, and hastened to try them out, even inviting one of my housemates to witness my new ninja potato skills. With a theatrical backswing, and full kung-fu film sound effects, I took a swing at the potato, with a perfect karate chop. The potato exploded, one half of it splattering up the window, the other half firing itself across the room like a beautiful starchy missile. The (admittedly very fluffy) potato centre stuck to the edge of my hand causing some fairly massive burning resulting in me hopping round the kitchen like an angry chimp, whilst my housemate lay on the floor, paralysed with laughter at my utter stupidity.

On later wondering why I'd been given such terrible instructions, I looked them up on my PC. 'MAKE SURE TO COVER THE POTATO WITH A TEA TOWEL!' was indeed written at the bottom of the article, but a combination of the tiny screen on my phone, and my desperate desire for better Irish juice meant I had neglected to read this fairly crucial piece of information.

The enormous blisters on the side of my hand somewhat put me off mobile internet...
(Tue 4th Aug 2009, 22:08, More)

» Kids

Little cousin
My (now not so little) cousin, was, of course, read to frequently as a small child. Which lead to a phase of her narrating her life in the third person. For example, she'd drop a toy from her hi-chair, and say: "Oh No! She cried".

Unfortunately she's grown out of it now.
(Thu 17th Apr 2008, 23:29, More)

» Food sabotage

Poker
My housemates and I had some friends over for a game of poker. I had cooked dinner that evening, and as it was the end of term, we were very low on ingredients. Two packets of cheese sauce, and some rice. Fine. Cheesy rice! Unfortunately, it turns out to be absolutely minging, although most people manage 2/3 of a plate.

After we ad eaten. other friends arrived, and the game commenced. Of course, we weren't playing for money: it was drinking poker, as in: I raise you two shots of absinthe. Generally results in everyone becoming roundly cunted within an hour or so. Aside from John, the militant Christian, who did not drink.

When it's getting to the stage where we're just about ready to go out (people are starting to fall off their chairs), Chris, another one of my friends raises John 'a pint of urine'. After a bit of bartering, they agree that the looser has to drink as much as the other can piss. Everyone else folds, aside from Chris and John.

Chris: "Okay, what've you got"
John: "Royal flush"
Chris: "Shit... nine high"
John: "Hahahahahah"

John departs to the toilet, and brings back a (completely full) pint of his finest. Chris decides the only way he can make it drinkable is to put some ice, tabasco, and Robinson's fruit juice in it. It does not go down well, and results in a lot of vomit, which is all lovingly videoed, and added to facebook.

Three questions were raised that evening:
Why John the militant Christian thinks swigging urine is okay, but alcohol not?

What kind of mongo raises someone a pint of piss with a nine high?

Why the fuck was Chris willing to drink a pint of piss, but not to have a spoonful of the dinner I had lovingly prepared?

I felt so hurt.
(Thu 18th Sep 2008, 17:07, More)

» Spoilt Brats

On the train
Conductor: Tickets please!
Rah girl: A ticket!? Why do I need a ticket?
Conductor: Everyone needs a ticket. If you don't have one, you have to buy one.
Rah girl: I don't! It's okay, my Mummy will be on the platform when we get there!
Conductor: I don't care: you need to buy a ticket.
Rah girl: No! Mummy will be there! Speak to her on the phone!
Conductor: No. You need to buy a ticket.
Rah girl: *dials mum*: Here! Speak to her! She'll tell you!
Conductor: I'm not talking to your mum. Buy a ticket.
Girl: Oh FINE. FINE. I'll buy a ticket then. But I don't understand why I need one.

What a cow.
(Fri 10th Oct 2008, 19:03, More)
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