I am a small, small person
I'm at the wedding reception of my ex-girlfriend. It's over, and it's time to leave for the afterparty. I'm walking out and in an anteroom I see a bottle of champagne and two take-away food boxes. I look in the boxes and it's a sampling of the food from the reception buffet, which was awesome. I look around and there's nobody around, so, nice and drunk, I decide to swipe them and take them out to the car with me. But I don't want to be spied on my way out helping myself to a bottle of champagne. So I figure I'll stick it down my pants and cover it up with my shirt and coat and carry the food boxes in front of it so nobody will notice.

I've got it halfway down my pants, drunkenly leaning back and looking down at my waist when I hear, "Ohh!" and look up and it's the bride's mother, the sweetest angel woman in the world from a wonderful, established, classy, prominent family, looking at me with equal parts confusion, sorrow, and shock. Turns out it was food and drink for the bride and groom to eat in the car or the hotel (you never get to eat at your own reception so she had made them up some plates of food). And I had my shirt pulled up and was sticking it down my pants. To steal it. I had to pull it back out and set it back on the table and walk out mumbling something about "..thought they'd left.." I've never felt so horrible and ashamed in my life. I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!
(kookoobirdz, Sun 6 Jun 2010, 4:46, 8 replies)

I have never been caught actually doing anything wrong....
but the nearest to being caught has to be this.....

~~~Wavy back in time lines~~~~
Would have been about 14/15 at the time this happened, and involves Bert(my mate), Laura (Mate's hot sister), Steve (Mate's mate), and Norman (Mate's Mate's cousin, and 100% douchebag) and a empty, half ruined hospital...

One bright and sunny summer holiday, We decided to look into in the ruins of the hospital. Which had been standing there for at least 5/10 years before we was born. So we knew it was pretty gutted out, but we wanted a look.

Only way in was over a 6ft high fence on a busy footpath (this footpath went around three sides of the building, the easiest place to get over was on the first straight bit...). All going pretty well nothing interesting really, an empty beds, odd desk, lamp , etc. We got to the third floor at the front of the building, and thought "Hey, let's get a rope and abseil out the window and to the bottom"

Only Bert and me thought this was a good idea. At this point in time douchebag thought it would be fun to start smashing windows...with his bare fist...

Every other window was smashed in on our way out of the building, and he dragged his bloody hand in zombie thriller hand marks over everything, across floors, walls, and windows he hadn't smashed.

So Douche and his cousin went home, while Bert, Laura and myself went to Bert's for a long piece of rope.

With a rope coiled around Bert's Shoulder, we made our way back to the footpath. Just as Bert was about to climb the fence, and Dante like spider sense kicked in. I commented that we should go to the front of the building. He asked why, and I replied a hunch. We talked about random things, just as we got halfway along the second part of the footpath a policeman jumped over the wall in front of us....

"Stop! Excuse me, where are you going with that rope?"
"Er...down to the golf course to make a rope swing across the creek." said Bert
"Why's that?" Ask me
"We've heard reports that there has been kids in here. Someone over heard them getting a rope to come back here. Do you know anything about that?"
"Not us. We've been playing on the playstation since 10."
"And you're now going to the golf course?"
"Yeah, found this hidden place covered by trees, pretty cool." Me
"If you see or hear anything about what happened tell us."
"Okay" Bert

We walked off, he climbed back over. As we came out of the footpath, we saw the pandacar at the front of the hospital. We quickly went to our den at the golf course.

I was classed as a hero that day.
Bert became a Chav
Laura became a Chavette (two babies, three possible dad's for each thankfully I'm not one of them)
Steve disappeared, bastard owes me £50 for a phone and video game, oh and owes me and Bert a motorbike (probably a different QotW)
Norman never saw again, hopefully has died from blood loss.
(Dante licked your nipple on, Sun 6 Jun 2010, 2:33, Reply)

A few years ago now
So I went for the usual after work drink with my workmates, nothing unusual. Except this time the work bike comes out with us. After a few I take her into the carpark above the pub and decide to give her a bit of a seeing too. Unaware that my mates have followed me up there; so after about 20 minutes they decide they're bored of watching and start running towards me. In a druken state I decide it'Hs wise to run towards them, chasing them with a raging stonk on. They still won't delete the pictures to this day.

Another story (same carpark) happened about a year after this one, same pub, different girl. Went into the carpark and she decides she wants to do it in the lift. So we go to the top floor, close the doors and I start porking her. To both of our suprise, a minute later, doors open and there's a community support officer standing infront of us. Luckily he let us on our way after a swift lecture!
(thefwf, Sun 6 Jun 2010, 1:42, Reply)

Too soft to be a career criminal
I think i was about 7 or 8
Myself and a couple of friends were messing around in the schoolyard at morning break,
When we discovered the back door to the kitchen was open.
And on a table a tray of the biggest chocolate sponge we'd ever seen.
It must have been 2 foot by 3 and cut into squares, probably to be served with that pink custard you never saw anywhere outside of school
(WTF was that weird pink custard?)
We looked at each other, looked around and back to the sponge.
They wouldn't notice if we took all the pieces from one side would they?
Ah the innocence of youth.
So we crept in, took the cake and legged it round the back of the yard.
Unfortunately this meant we had about a dozen slabs of cake and morning break was going to end soon.
Theres only so much dry cake you can eat in a short time and we couldnt give any away, so most of it ended up being flushed down a toilet.
Spent the rest of the morning terrified that suddenly bells were going to start ringing and wild eyed snake haired dinner ladies were going to be rampaging through the school weilding knives and rolling pins, baying for blood.
So it was with great relief when the dinner bell sounded as normal and we trooped into the dining room.
Chattering, laughing, clanking the dinner trays together, all the usual school dinner time noises.
Which ground to a halt when we saw the metal grills over the serving hatches weren't open.
And the dinner ladies were all lined up in front of it, and the headmaster standing in front of them.
I had never been so terrified in all my life and looking around to check my co-conspiritors i guess they felt the same.
Kristians lip was quivering, Susan had tears in her eyes, and me, my heart was pounding and my stomach was churning.
Confused mutterings grew until the headmaster held up his hand for silence.
I cant for the life of me remember what he then said because the combination of fear and hastily consumed cake overcame me.
I barfed and blew chunks of chocolate sponge all over the dining room floor.
And I think I may even have wet myself a little
Events that followed are a little bit hazy, but I have vague memories of grassing up my friends, detention,
line writing, lack of any pudding for a week , the disdain of fellow schoolmates, specially the ones I grassed up , the dinner ladies giving me short rations and a right bollocking from parents
Schooldays, the best days of your life eh?
(insomniac-surfer oh go on then, just this once, Sat 5 Jun 2010, 22:47, 6 replies)

Still paying the therapy bills
Like most lads I discovered the joys of rubbing one off like a clockwork monkey when I was at the tender age of 12 or so. I had thought that my bishop-punishing, chicken-choking act of depravity was my dirty little secret until my father, mischievous grin on his face, nailed me with this little gem:

"Nathaniel could you stop wanking into your socks? It upsets your Mum on laundry day".

Made me stop for a whole week that did.
( venezuelan beaver cheese is mortally afraid of spoons, Sat 5 Jun 2010, 22:21, 2 replies)

Another story of Sivvus and her brother, aged 6 and 7
One day, little Sivvus and her big Brother were in a big shop called Woolworths. Mummy said she wanted to buy some new plates because the ones at home were all broken/were not actually frisbees. She took little Sivvus and Brother with her, knowing that the frisbee obsession extended to anything that could be thrown at the telly.

Mummy took a while looking at the plates, and then went to talk to the scary shop person about something. She left the little children alone, making them promise to be good.

She made them promise to be good near the Pic n' Mix.

Sivvus looked at the cola bottles.

Brother looked at the fizzy cherries.

They looked at each other.

"I will if you will," Brother whispered. Sivvus shook her head.

"I think you have to pay." She said. Brother smiled reassuringly.

"No, it's just grown ups that pay! Have you ever seen a kid at a till?"

Sivvus thought about this for a while, and shook her head. With Brother smiling at her all the way, she went to the little clear treasure chest and grabbed a handful of sugary treasures. She'd just given some to Brother when mummy came back, and saw the sweets in their hands.

"WHAAAAT are you doing?" She shouted, making all the grown ups in the store turn around. Sivvus started crying, being softer than your average bear.

Mummy made Sivvus and Brother put the sweets back, and then marched them to the manager. They'd only had time to eat a few sweets each, but they still had to say sorry, both crying by now, and get ticked off by the scary manager person.

It wasn't until we left the store that Brother pointed out to me that mummy hadn't offered to pay for the sweets we'd nicked.

So there we are- if your kids steal in a shop, make a massive scene, and then don't bother to pay it back. :P
(Sivvus trolley collision in the fruit aisle led to a jam, Sat 5 Jun 2010, 20:57, Reply)

For the past 36 hours I've had food poisoning
Caught? The first fart that wasn't. I've made sure that I have employed a porcelain safety net since though.
( ForecastMonkey, Sat 5 Jun 2010, 20:21, Reply)

Chat room for gayers
Roughly 9 years ago, I was living at my parents house, I became slighlty obsessed with gay chat rooms and video chat rooms where anything goes.

Coming home pissed one night and horny I decided to log on and get talking filthy and putting on a show (much like Leslie Grantham) but as I was pissed, I fell asleep, leaving computer on my lap, in bed, with camera on, cock out.

The next morning the laptop was turned off, folder up and put away.

That's how my mum found out I was gay
(Eeevil You are losers, Sat 5 Jun 2010, 20:17, 5 replies)

Guantanamo bay had just hit the headlines and we were discussing it at work
My colleague was all for it, especially the pyramids. Luckily we didn't have any jumper cables at work...

( fuck shit up the best you never had, Sat 5 Jun 2010, 19:47, 3 replies)

I was caught stealing money from the charity bottle in my dads pub
my brother had got me into it, he used to get a coathanger and deftly manouvre a note up the neck of the bottle, teasing it up until i could grab it with my slender fingers.

then we would go to the till, now, during the morning hours it was deathly quiet downstairs in the pub, the till was very much like arkwrights till, he'd press 'no sale' and KAH CHING!!! the drawer would rocket open, and we'd wince at the sound, pause listening for footsteps then change the note for coins (cunning eh?) which we would then plop into the fruit machine.

i say 'we' i mean, it was mostly my older brother, after all i was only eight and i was just roped in because i had slim fingers and was naive and easily corruptable.

but one day i decided to have a go myself, all by my lonesome, boredom spurring me on, and those spinny wheels of glory bekonning me to spin them, but of course almost as soon as i had the hanger in the bottle my mum walked into the bar.. i did my best innocent face but what with having a fiver halfway up the side of the bottle it didn't do me much good.

upstairs receiving a stern talking to from my ma and pa, and in tears as they threatened me with having the police called i will always remember the image of my brother dancing across the doorway with a massive grin on his face putting his finger to his lips.

i hated him so much for that, makes me smile every time i think of it now tho, and i have never played a fruit machine since.
i still like to rob the occasional charity tin tho.
(Mortal Wombat - he's just an excitable boy, Sat 5 Jun 2010, 18:42, Reply)

First time I've felt the urge to post.
I was 14 or 15 and giving my girlfriend a good rogering. Just as she starts to get REALLY vocal my parents walk in. Gutted. I instantly went limp. It was the only time I ever got her screaming in about 5 years.
(Thor McLegend FUCK SHITPANTS PAC MAN, Sat 5 Jun 2010, 18:34, 5 replies)

At school,
as part of my D of E, or for scouts or possibly just for a priority card that meant I could jump the queue at lunchtime (this is going back more than 20 years so it's a little hazy), I helped out in the school library. There was a microfische (basically a sort of powerful magnifying glass that projected microfilm onto a screen) in the library that kept breaking down due to loose wires leading to the lamp. Dave and myself would sort this by simply taking the back off and poking and prodding until the light came back on. One day I was bored and as some sort of a practical joke, with Dave's agreement, left a note for the librarian saying that Dave had been electrocuted and taken to hospital. Unfortunately, being a dependable type this was taken at face value and frantic calls were made from the headmasters office to the local A&E dept. When they found that Dave was OK (he denied ever having seen the note - bastard), I found myself marched into the heads office and asked if the note in my handwriting, with my signature on it was mine. Hoisted by my own petard!

On another note, more in keeping with the tone of this weeks posts, I nicked one of several porn mags that he had stashed under his bed but was never found out. Take that Dave! It was me!

Ok it's a shit story but it's a slow news week and if you don't post something better....
( ForecastMonkey, Sat 5 Jun 2010, 17:58, Reply)

When the ex mrs wimp was giving birth
there were occasions when the lovely midwife left us on our own in the room .
With the nitrox oxide .
Makes your voice go really deep , so much so that when the lovely midwife returns and asks is everything is ok both me and the ex mrs pissed ourselves laughing at the sonund of me saying 'Yes'

Lovely midwife sighed and looked sternly at me ' It is meant for her pain releif you know '

Then I became a Dad and was caught for life.
( horace wimp needs more than 49 characters to fully express hi, Sat 5 Jun 2010, 16:00, 2 replies)

My girlfriend is pregnant
My wife doesn't yet know.

Does that count?
( ogwen69 has returned from Reddit, Sat 5 Jun 2010, 15:30, 7 replies)

Following on from jvz's little tale...
I once, in my younger days of course, was walking round Blackpool, talent spotting from the safety of a big pair of sunglasses and getting some very strange looks indeed. It was only when we went into a boozer and I took the fucking things off that I realised that I only had one lens in, the other one had fallen out in my pocket.

In my defence, I was a little shitfaced at the time...
( His Popiness the Hole Invaded Poland on, Sat 5 Jun 2010, 14:23, Reply)

Alice just found this pool of water...
When I was about eight years old, I was best friends with two sisters- Alice and Wendy- who lived a few doors down, and our playground was a half-built housing development nearby. We terrorised the neighbourhood: three little half-feral tomboys armed with misunderstood jokes gleaned from Eurotrash and South Park and a stockpile of raided tools from the building site. I still have a scar down my back from getting stuck in a hole in the roof of the builder's mobile, while trying to steal their crisps and scrawl a swear on the wall. That's the kind of thing we did... all pretty innocent by today's standards.

One hot July day we were really bored and had ventured further into the development than usual, about a 45 minute walk from our houses, and after losing track of time Alice and I realised we really, really needed to pee. It simply couldn't wait till we got home, and besides we thought it would be hilarious to piss in someone's bedroom-to-be, so we went into one of the half-built houses and squatted in the corner. After I'd been, Wendy and I kept watch at each of the windows for Alice, and just as she was pulling down her pants suddenly a little face popped up at my window and said "Hello!"
I jumped and tensed, but it was some other kid, too young to be a threat from one of the other gangs. He was craning his neck trying to see past me while Alice yanked her shorts up so fast she probably got a wedgie. "Er, what are you doing?" he asks, staring at the dark wet patch seeping along the floor.

It was then that I came up with a wonderfully wicked excuse.

"Oh, um, Alice here just found this puddle and wanted to paddle in it!" I grinned, staring meaningfully at poor Alice. At this point I should mention that we were barefoot, as our trainers were covered with the wet cement we'd been jumping in earlier. Alice was then obliged- to give my story some credibility- to dance, smiling, in a pool of my urine. The kid looked confused for a moment, then ran off without a word. Wendy and I choked laughing as Alice scraped her feet along the concrete. She later got her revenge by hiding our trainers so we had to walk home in our bare feet.
(Second sign of madness, Sat 5 Jun 2010, 13:58, Reply)

In a lovely young Nurse to be's student halls room.
We were making the beast with two back is an exotic position when her door flies open and all I hear is "Fucking hell!". I look over and it's her neighbour, so I wave, smile and ask "Are you coming in or going out? Close the door either way". My partner for the night however was trying her hardest to disapear into the pillow.
( Laird Dave Draws Now charges to take off his clothes., Sat 5 Jun 2010, 13:22, Reply)

I was working for a bus company
And pulled a blonde piece who was working there too. I was living at home but fortunately my gran (whose house is massive) was out of town. I took Linda back, got changed into my silk jammies and put a condom on, then we did the dirty deed, all night, for at least thirty seconds.

Next day though, my uncle came round, the nosy bastard,, saying he'd just been walking his dog. "Just checking" of course. Linda jumped under the bed, and my uncle somehow managed to miss her, but not the dog! That fucking thing started chewing at the condom! We'd just let it drop onto the floor. The silly bugger had it in his mouth until my uncle was halfway up the street afterwards.
(McChinaman banned, Sat 5 Jun 2010, 13:04, 4 replies)

Ginge, that was his name. Probably still is.
As young punks, we used to all sit on a wall outside a record shop. A teenage girl pulled up on her pushbike, and entered the shop. Ginge made a big show of going to the bike, and sniffing the seat, just as a cop came round the corner.
He was totally gobsmacked and disgusted, bollocked Ginge, then took him down to the station, and bollocked him some more. It was one of the funniest things I've ever see. We were almost on the floor laughing. Poor Ginge.
(Bear Pookie The Frankly Challenged. Halloween is coming to town., Sat 5 Jun 2010, 12:55, 6 replies)

Angry police men with big guns
A few years ago I had decided to get some food at McDonalds. The place was rammed so I went round the drive-thru and went to find somewhere quiet to eat it. I parked in a service road at the local exhibition and conference centre. There were no street lights at this point so I sat in the near-dark in my mini eating the McFood. 2 bites into the burger and a knocking on the window caused me to fling chips all over the inside of the car as I jumped in fright. The door was yanked open and torches shone in my face as I was made to get out by 4 guys dressed in black and carrying machine guns.
They were an armed police response unit and they were a tad curious as to exactly what the fuck I was doing there. Turned out that the Tory (or was it Labour? can't remember now) party were having their conference in the centre. I am completely uninterested and oblivious to politics so had no idea at all, which the police found hard to believe. A search of the car revealed nothing more dangerous than chips on the floor and a medium Coke soaking into the passenger seat, so I was sent on my way and told in no uncertain terms to stay the hell away.
(dave likes cheese, Sat 5 Jun 2010, 12:29, 3 replies)

In 7th or 8th grade
I was sitting in my French class. It was the last class of the day, and I was utterly bored. I hadn't eaten lunch that day, and was feeling rather worse for it, as well as it being much too hot and one of the last weeks of the school year. For some reason, my French teacher had all the windows closed anyway, which she soon regretted. Sitting in my corner of the room at my desk, I felt a little bit of a fart beginning to brew up in me. Thinking naught of it, I just let it slip out. Sadly for those in the class, it was one of the silent and deadly sorts. Absolutely vile. I was sitting there, trying to hold a straight face as more and more of my classmates smelled it and expressed their displeasure. Even the teach was looking around trying to figure out who it was.

I finally lost it when I heard the teacher in the next room down the hall ask who farted and threatened them with detention if they ever did one so bad again. As soon as I heard that through the open door, I started laughing like a loon and all my classmates instantly knew who'd done it.
( Ithyphallophobia, Sat 5 Jun 2010, 7:57, Reply)

Kittens! Snoring! Making baby jesus cry!
Some years back I shared a house with two friends, one guy and one girl. The guy worked nights, and so would often come in late. He would watch tv and fall asleep on the couch, snoring like a water-buffalo after an all night bender.

Aside from the lack of sleep, we were a happy bunch. We lived, loved and laughed together like characters from an early 90s sitcom.

We were happier still when one day we were able to add to our little household. For, when walking down the main street, I found a little lost kitten. She was a cute mite, and very adventurous. It was clear how she had got lost, for she was constantly attempting to climb fences and use her ninja abilities to sneak through doors. We nick-named her Houdini. She looked like this:



We tried to find an owner. We put up posters (no one replied), checked to see if it had been microchipped (it hadn't). It was looking as though we might get to keep her.

One night I was awoken to the sound of my housemate snoring and the tv still blaring. Not being able to get back to sleep, I decided that I had to go and see if he could be roused and returned to his own room. I walked into the lounge to discover him sprawled asleep on the sofa, with his pants around his ankles and hand covering his wilted and spent cock. The kitten was sitting on the sofa, sheltering under the crook of my housemate's naked knees, with an expression something like this:



I did the only thing I could. I picked up a cushion, placed it over the housemate's face to muffle the snores and went back to bed.

The kitten and I made a pact never to speak of this moment.
(russet_gusset up the reds, Sat 5 Jun 2010, 4:30, Reply)

Farting!
As I often mention, I work part-time in a video store. Quite often I'll squeak out a few farts while putting DVDs back on shelves, with the fact that customers probably walk into my stink filling me with joy as I'm being emptied of gas. One night I popped one out near a boy of around 5 and his dad. After I walked away I saw the dad give a quick sniff and begin asking his son about it.

"Did you fart?"
"No."
"Come on now, don't lie to me."
"Serious Dad, I didn't."
"You sure?"
(almost crying) "Yes!"
(clearly not believing) "OK..."

Felt a little bad for the kid, but at least the dad found it funny. Not as much as me however.
(ElGranto, Sat 5 Jun 2010, 4:25, Reply)

Cows
It's not the greatest experience in the world, when in the throes of passion during an open air session, feeling something wet on your forehead and opening your eyes to find youre looking up a cow's nostrils.
(Freakmandu, Sat 5 Jun 2010, 2:27, 3 replies)

Windows
Back to my late teenage years a mate of mine had tinted the side and back windows of his car using a reflective film. This was great for driving up and down the sea front where we lived during the summer admiring the talent without being seen. One day I became aware that the young lady I was studying while we were stopped at some traffic lights was starting to look rather annoyed. I then realised that I had wound the window down.
(jvz, Sat 5 Jun 2010, 1:55, 2 replies)

Aaah... School.
-wavy lines, back to my last year of compulsory education-

I had two escapades that stick out this year, one being right at the start, and one being right at the end.

The first one?
First year meeting of the year. Everyone is buzzing with stories of their summers - and the fact this is our last ever year. Which of course means we can actually go to the shop for dinner.
The shop, the holy grail of eating at the time. (Meant we could stick it to Jamie Oliver and get the biggest, shittest microwave hotdog going. 'aave it!)
But no - We couldnt make this journey for the first week. We needed a slip of permission from our wonderful parents returned and passes printed.
The dinner bell rings.
Fuck this, think I and other like minded Pioneers.
We trek to the far end of the school field, and begin hopping the fence, single file. Great escape? Pah!
Saving hte best till last, I light my cigarette, and hop the fence.
And instead of sweet freedom, im met with my head of year watching me from down the lane. "Bollocks" think I.
Glances are traded.
an awkwardly hidden draw of the cigarette is taken.
"Bollocks to this" I think, proud of my large vocabulary.
The middle finger salute is given by both hands, and I make my daring journey to the shop.
A phone call home secured my week of detentions for this heinous crime.
Still, a victory to me.

-fast forward is pressed-

Aaah, the last compulsory week of education - the last Business lesson id ever have, right after a gruelling day of mock GCSE's.
The teacher? A substitute, although from the ICT department. (and what would soon turn out to be, a major member of the H&S brigade.)
His respect? zero to none.
15 minutes left? flagging? see the bus pulling up?
Oh, its time to go. But how?
His backs turned..
The windows open..
I went for it.
I made it.
That night, another phonecall from school.
It apparently went something like -
ICT teacher: "Id like to keep bredstkcriminal for a detention on Friday."
Mother: "Whats he done?"
T: "Jumped out of a window."
M: "Haha! Was it a second floor?"
T: (annoyed) "No, it was ground floor, but we cant have all the students behaving this way."
M: "Oh, of course not."
So, I earned a detention on my last ever day of school. Of course I didnt bloody turn up!

Apologies if its too long.
(bredstkcriminal, Sat 5 Jun 2010, 1:43, 3 replies)

Me and the missus
Got caught going hammer and tongs in an ex-mates mums bed.

By his mum.

She was wearing a scout leader uniform. Neckerchief, shorts, sash and everything.

It was hilarious.

After what seemed like an hour she gasped "I think you should all leave!"

I was at this point looking up at her, still hips-deep, and just said a cheery "ok!"

I hopped up, pulling out of the missus, my still fully-engaged lob-on pinging and wobbling like an affront to all sexual decency.

The mum turned away, shocked and likely jealous.

We slowly got dressed, and left, snickering..

It was hilarious, and we still like to trot the story out at events, laughing like imbeciles..
(Irregular Joe last touched ham on, Sat 5 Jun 2010, 1:31, 4 replies)

Perhaps not being caught so much as doing something so retardedly obvious it couldn't be ignored...
When I was in my last year of secondary school, I had a perfect record, well, I hadn't had any detentions or such. Thus I was quite offended when a teacher caught me playing games and kicked me out of the computer room, the bitch then reported me to the school IT technicians. They blocked my computer account, so revenge was plotted...

When I got my account back in an IT lesson, I immediately opened notepad and typed exactly what I thought of them then saved the file as a flagged file type before quickly deleting it, hoping they might notice it, read it, before it was removed from under their noses. Clearly, I was a retard.

Result - 2 days suspension and a lifetime of earache from my parents.
(Crompton, Sat 5 Jun 2010, 1:25, 1 reply)

Really? Has nobody done this one yet??
Before selling my soul and switching to Macs, I had a shitty old Toshiba notebook that was forever giving me grief. One day I was doing some home-recording (I'm a bit of a muso..) and the bastard computer froze up completely.
Took it down to the local fix-it shop in Bristol, and they said they'd take a look at it and get back to me.
Next day I get a knock at the door, and it's the old bill, and I'm being arrested for posession of child pornography!
It made all the papers, and I ended up having to fuck off to Cambodia to get away from the press..

Cheers,
P. Gadd


Click 'I like this' and I'll tell you all about my sexual exploits in Vietnam.
Length? Three years - two years, five months with good behavior..
(r0ach, Sat 5 Jun 2010, 1:16, Reply)

Johnny Nozzle
Not my story, but I've got to share it.

Johnny Nozzle (so named for his 2-inch foreskin, but that's a story of a different stroke - so to speak) and his two mates were off their tits on 'shrooms in John's flat in Southampton in the late 80's. They got the munchies, but didn't have any money. So they elected to rob the corner store downstairs (where John the Noz had been shopping since he was six). John wore a WW2 gas mask as a disguise, while his mates pulled socks (not stockings, socks) over their faces. Then the three of them stumbled downstairs and menaced Mr. Shah with a broken harpoon gun. Mr. Shah called the police as they fled with their £10 and three bags of Walkers crisps.

While attempting to make their getaway on John's Puch Maxi (a wheezy 50cc moped, Merkins), the three of them were apprehended after a very brief chase. I should point out that John was still wearing the gas mask - along with his 12-inch orange mohawk and leopardskin-print jacket and jeans. His mates were also "distinctively" dressed, and were still wearing the socks over their heads/faces. The cops were all laughing so hard that they had trouble cuffing them.
(lustfish, Sat 5 Jun 2010, 0:22, Reply)