Profile for VicBrown:
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- a member for 13 years, 7 months and 8 days
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» Annoying Partners
The Secret War
A war has been raging for 17 years now. It's a secret war, the war that dare not speak its name. The war that they don't talk about,EVER. Even though by their actions their foe knows only too well when hostilities have taken place.
And so it comes to pass that every time I enter the bathroom and see the toilet roll with the tail of paper hanging "against the tiles", I change it so it hangs out the way, where it will stay in the "correct" manner until such time as the enemy next visits and it will be changed back. And so on. For ever.
(Tue 9th Aug 2011, 10:51, More)
The Secret War
A war has been raging for 17 years now. It's a secret war, the war that dare not speak its name. The war that they don't talk about,EVER. Even though by their actions their foe knows only too well when hostilities have taken place.
And so it comes to pass that every time I enter the bathroom and see the toilet roll with the tail of paper hanging "against the tiles", I change it so it hangs out the way, where it will stay in the "correct" manner until such time as the enemy next visits and it will be changed back. And so on. For ever.
(Tue 9th Aug 2011, 10:51, More)
» Fairgrounds, theme parks, circuses and carnivals
Centrifugal Forced
Back in the day, me and my mates would troop off every christmas to the kelvin Hall Carnival in Glasgow.
Best ride there was the Centrifugal Wall where everyone stood on the inside of a giant cylindar type affair and then they would start to spin the fucker - really reaaly fast - and then the floor would drop away pinning you to the wall with the magical power of centrifugal force.
All well and good , apart from this one bloke opposite us for whom the motion was all too much and he started to chunder. Unfortunately for him, vomit is not immune to the power of centrifugal power and so as soon as it exited his mouth it proceeded to force its way all over his chin, cheeks, eyes and hair.
I'm sure his unfortunate predicament was only worsened by the sight opposite of him of half a dozen teeneagers crying with laughter.
(Fri 10th Jun 2011, 10:54, More)
Centrifugal Forced
Back in the day, me and my mates would troop off every christmas to the kelvin Hall Carnival in Glasgow.
Best ride there was the Centrifugal Wall where everyone stood on the inside of a giant cylindar type affair and then they would start to spin the fucker - really reaaly fast - and then the floor would drop away pinning you to the wall with the magical power of centrifugal force.
All well and good , apart from this one bloke opposite us for whom the motion was all too much and he started to chunder. Unfortunately for him, vomit is not immune to the power of centrifugal power and so as soon as it exited his mouth it proceeded to force its way all over his chin, cheeks, eyes and hair.
I'm sure his unfortunate predicament was only worsened by the sight opposite of him of half a dozen teeneagers crying with laughter.
(Fri 10th Jun 2011, 10:54, More)
» Filth!
The Quare Fellow
Back in the Eighties, I used to work with this PR sort who was also a relatively well known voiceover/continuity announcer - we'll call him Michael Double-Barrell - and he told a great tale relating to the late great Brendan Behan.
Michael was living in London in the early sixties and through some of his drinking buddies was acquainted with Behan. One time a group of them were at a black tie function and Brendan was also there even though he hated such things, and so consequently was drinking anything that moved.
At the end of the evening they all went back to Michaels flat and continued drinking away. Eventually Behan passed out on a sofa but had to be woken up when someone saw that he had shit himself. He just shuffled outside, took off the dinner suit, used the jacket to wipe himself down, then tossed the whole thing on the compost heap and simply strolled back in and had a few for the road as if nothing had happened.
Next day, Michael lends the bold Brendan some trousers and sees him off in a taxi. End of tale, or so you might think.
Fast forward about a week, and Michael gets a phonecall. It's Brendan asking whether the Dinner Suit is still on the compost heap. When told that it was, Behan replied that he was on his way back for it.
He arrived about 10 minutes later - walked straight out into the garden, scooped the wet, stinking mess that had been the suit up with a stick and stuffed it in a carrier bag. He then walks straight back out the front to the waiting taxi.
"Hold on" says Michael, following him out. "Why on earth do you want that disgusting thing"
"I just remembered it's on hire from Moss Bros, and they want it back" says Brendan as he jumps in the cab and dissappears down the road.
(Thu 2nd Feb 2012, 16:40, More)
The Quare Fellow
Back in the Eighties, I used to work with this PR sort who was also a relatively well known voiceover/continuity announcer - we'll call him Michael Double-Barrell - and he told a great tale relating to the late great Brendan Behan.
Michael was living in London in the early sixties and through some of his drinking buddies was acquainted with Behan. One time a group of them were at a black tie function and Brendan was also there even though he hated such things, and so consequently was drinking anything that moved.
At the end of the evening they all went back to Michaels flat and continued drinking away. Eventually Behan passed out on a sofa but had to be woken up when someone saw that he had shit himself. He just shuffled outside, took off the dinner suit, used the jacket to wipe himself down, then tossed the whole thing on the compost heap and simply strolled back in and had a few for the road as if nothing had happened.
Next day, Michael lends the bold Brendan some trousers and sees him off in a taxi. End of tale, or so you might think.
Fast forward about a week, and Michael gets a phonecall. It's Brendan asking whether the Dinner Suit is still on the compost heap. When told that it was, Behan replied that he was on his way back for it.
He arrived about 10 minutes later - walked straight out into the garden, scooped the wet, stinking mess that had been the suit up with a stick and stuffed it in a carrier bag. He then walks straight back out the front to the waiting taxi.
"Hold on" says Michael, following him out. "Why on earth do you want that disgusting thing"
"I just remembered it's on hire from Moss Bros, and they want it back" says Brendan as he jumps in the cab and dissappears down the road.
(Thu 2nd Feb 2012, 16:40, More)
» School Naughtiness
Shell Shocked
First Year of senior school way back in the mid seventies saw us being taught RE by this very old bloke who had lost an arm in the war and simply tucked his other jacket sleeve into his pocket. He was a bit jittery and doddery to say the least, so of course we used to torment the poor fellow something rotten. All the usual stuff - swapping seats whenever he turned to write on the blackboard, moving his stuff around when he wasn't looking, inventing spurious messages from other teachers.Nothing too bad at all until one day as he was in the middle of telling us something, out of nowhere, one of the lads shouts out
"Sir, Sir, theres a cow behind you"
He literally jumped forward a foot, flailing his one arm in the air and yelling "Get it out, get it out" before reason took over and he just stood there staring at the lad who had done this till he got his breath back and we had finished collapsing with laughter. He then simply carried on with the lesson.
The thing is that after the hilarity had died down, we all felt really bad about it, and although I wouldn't claim we were angelic from that moment on, he got virtually no grief off us for the rest of the year, and some long overdue respect.
(Fri 9th Sep 2011, 12:41, More)
Shell Shocked
First Year of senior school way back in the mid seventies saw us being taught RE by this very old bloke who had lost an arm in the war and simply tucked his other jacket sleeve into his pocket. He was a bit jittery and doddery to say the least, so of course we used to torment the poor fellow something rotten. All the usual stuff - swapping seats whenever he turned to write on the blackboard, moving his stuff around when he wasn't looking, inventing spurious messages from other teachers.Nothing too bad at all until one day as he was in the middle of telling us something, out of nowhere, one of the lads shouts out
"Sir, Sir, theres a cow behind you"
He literally jumped forward a foot, flailing his one arm in the air and yelling "Get it out, get it out" before reason took over and he just stood there staring at the lad who had done this till he got his breath back and we had finished collapsing with laughter. He then simply carried on with the lesson.
The thing is that after the hilarity had died down, we all felt really bad about it, and although I wouldn't claim we were angelic from that moment on, he got virtually no grief off us for the rest of the year, and some long overdue respect.
(Fri 9th Sep 2011, 12:41, More)