» Why will you burn in hell?

Wasps
I moved house back in January, and one of my neighbours did me a favour and purchased my shed, which I couldn't be arsed to take with me.

However, when I came to empty the shed there was a giant wasps nest in it, so I gingerly knocked it off the wall with a rake, and ran off, just in case.

When I figured they were all still asleep, I picked it up on the rake, and then thought "I have no idea what I'm going to do with this"

So I swung the rake around, and catapulted it in the rhododendron bush in the garden of the neighbour two doors down.

So if that was your garden, and you got stung to bits when you were gardening in the spring, then I'm sorry* about that.

*not really
(Fri 13th Jul 2012, 13:17, More)

» Why will you burn in hell?

Stealing Wood
Me and some pals once went to Shell Island for the weekend.

To stop ourselves from drinking before 10am we decided to go up to the waterfall at the top of the hill just outside of Llanbedr for a nice little stroll.

Whilst we were there we heard a commotion coming from the river, and there were about a dozen people in hard hats all roped together climbing up the waterfall, which we thought was quite odd, but it never occurred to us who they might be.

As we were walking about, we got to thinking about firewood for our piss up on the beach later on, and lo, and behold! as we got back to the car park we spotted a hitherto unnoticed pile of ready assembled firewood behind a minibus.

Jackpot! we thought, and proceeded to load our car boots with as much as we could carry, which was pretty much all of it. So much so, that the exhaust on my car was scraping on the ground as I drove off.

As we left the carpark we spotted on the side of the bus the words "Sunshine Bus", and it then occurred to us who the people in the river were, and that they'd be having a big old fire to dry themselves off when they got out.

So did we put the wood back, you ask?

Did we bollocks. We had a massive fire when we got back, got really pissed, and couldn't stop laughing for about an hour.

Does this make us bad people?
(Fri 13th Jul 2012, 12:51, More)

» Killed to DEATH

Role reversal
I once nearly got killed by a spider.

My sister-in-law is terrified of the furry legged little gits, and I thought it would be quite amusing to throw her a box of matches containing one of said beasties, when she asked for a light for her fag.

Cue look of utter fear and dread, and mighty shriek, upon opening the box, followed swiftly by hate filled eyes and death threats for yours truly, being chased from the room.

Not gonna do that again in a rush, lemme tell ya.
(Fri 23rd Dec 2011, 18:22, More)

» Shit Holidays

Holiday in the sun leads to lots and lots of pain
Ten members of my family went on an all inclusive holiday to Gran Canaria for Christmas week last year. Bloody great. All you could eat and drink all day long, and two pools full of nubile European wenches in bikinis.

Lucky me woke up in agony on Christmas day, and then ended up in a hospital on Boxing day on two consecutive Tramadol drips, which didn't even take the edge off the pain I was in. The doctor diagnosed it as Sciatica. On the night before we went home I had to call out a doctor to get a really bloody painful injection in my arse cheek just so that I could sleep.

Oh, what fun! The only person I'd wish Sciatica on is Thatcher. Pain like you would not believe.

You know that holiday insurance that you sometimes can't be arsed to sort out? Lucky for me I did and it covered the £500 in Spanish hospital bills.

When I got back I had an MRI diagnosis of a slipped disc, which was causing the agony, and then I was off work until the end of May. Still hurts like fuck now and mostly I'm whacked out of my gourd on lots and lots of tablets.

Apart from that the holiday was great.

TLDR: goes away abroad, comes back broken.
(Mon 18th Aug 2014, 23:44, More)

» Self-Inflicted injuries

Late night bike ride
I once went out drinking one Friday night with some friends, and after the pub closed we all got invited to a party. I thought "we can't got without drink" so I went home, fetched about 2 dozen beer bottles from the fridge, slung them in a pair of carrier bags, one on each side the handlebars of my bike and off I went to the party.

Roll forward several hours and I'm so pissed when trying to ride my bike down a narrow alley that I fell into a hedge, bike and all, at least 3 times, whilst my house mate and her fella were pissing themselves laughing hauling me out of the hedge.

Anyway, we get into a bit of clear space, I get my balance and can suddenly ride again without falling off, so I breezily announce that I'm off to get chips. Housemate starts to go "but I"... and I cut her off and say "it's OK I've got enough"

After riding around town to each chippie and getting more and more annoyed cos they're all shut, the town clock strikes 3am and I suddenly realise what she was trying to tell me before. Arse. So I head off home, clip a kerb, land on my face and skid for a bit. Yikes, that hurt like a mofo.

So I drag myself home with mangled bike, get to the door, covered in blood, and yell upstairs "Jackie! I've hurt meself!"

Jackie comes down the stairs, takes one look at me quietly bleeding away, dripping blood everywhere, and utters the immortal line:

"Where's me fucking chips ya bastard?!"

Oh how we laughed, which just made me hurt more.

To be fair though, she did spend the next hour or so dabbing all of the road out of my face with several wet, blood soaked towels, bless her little cotton socks. I had an ace banana shaped scab from my forehead round to my chin for about 6 weeks.

TL;DR - partying and cycling don't mix terribly well, so let's be careful out there kids!
(Tue 3rd Dec 2013, 14:12, More)