What about houses that belonged to 'people i know' rather than friends?
If that's the case, I could tell a great story about the bikers, the 18 stone girlfriend of one biker straddling me, the shotgun and the new piercing.

But I am trying to repress it.
( ancrenne doesn't eat anything that can play video games, Fri 18 Jan 2008, 12:38, closed)

Come on!
You can't get the juices flowing, and then run away!
( Cawl - King Of Wales, Fri 18 Jan 2008, 12:40, closed)

Unrepress it!
And unrepress it now! We must hear more details.
( Enzyme is in ur [noun]z, [verb]in' ur [noun]z, Fri 18 Jan 2008, 12:40, closed)

yes!
Let it out! It's cathartic.
( crackhouseceilidhband - "refreshing and logical", Fri 18 Jan 2008, 12:42, closed)

@crackhouse
See? It's catching!
( Enzyme is in ur [noun]z, [verb]in' ur [noun]z, Fri 18 Jan 2008, 12:43, closed)

If we don't hear this story
then I'll have to make my own version of it.

And nobody needs to hear about a poor gentleman being viciously rodded with a greased-up shotgun.
( Cawl - King Of Wales, Fri 18 Jan 2008, 12:46, closed)

@Enzyme
yeah, I was "pulling an Enzyme"
:)
( crackhouseceilidhband - "refreshing and logical", Fri 18 Jan 2008, 12:46, closed)

@crackhouse...
Ah, if only.
( Enzyme is in ur [noun]z, [verb]in' ur [noun]z, Fri 18 Jan 2008, 12:49, closed)

I'm scared the bikers will read this and find me and the shotgun will reappear
so I'll just give you the headlines.

Pompey. Ugh. Bad start.

Patch wearing biker boyfriend, prospecting for local patch club. Prospects must do What They Are Told. Prospects girlfriends must Wait To Be Spoken To Before Speaking. (those of you who know me will know this kind of playground rule really doesn't work for me)

Car. Two patch wearing bikers. Police car. Waistcoats with patches hurriedly removed, seatbelts applied. Announcement of shotgun in boot.

Ancrenne decides the only way to deal with this horror is by drinking. A lot. Ancrenne Talks Before Being Talked to. Ancrenne is escorted to a flea ridden, sticky carpeted pit AKA bikers 'home'

Ancrenne continues drinking.

Ancrenne wakes up, feeling a little immobile, to see a shotgun out of the corner of her eye, propped against the sofa, and finds said 18 stone lovely astride her, piercing gun in hand. It would appear Ancrenne had been asking about belly button piercings non stop and Lovely had decided the best thing to do was just, well, pierce.

Ancrenne passes out, sticks to the floor and wakes up to hear a clink as someone tings a glass against her new piercing. Ancrenne then hears someone's PA ting against a glass.

Ancrenne cries....
( ancrenne doesn't eat anything that can play video games, Fri 18 Jan 2008, 12:57, closed)

that
was scarily worth waiting for! I feel traumatised by just reading it.
( crackhouseceilidhband - "refreshing and logical", Fri 18 Jan 2008, 13:00, closed)

May I suggest...
... (a) that you copy and paste that as a new story so that we can click it, (b) that you get a hepititis jab, and (c) that you report the twatbag for assault?

But copy and paste first.
( Enzyme is in ur [noun]z, [verb]in' ur [noun]z, Fri 18 Jan 2008, 13:03, closed)

I am bereft of words.....
At least you only blurted out a need for a navel peircing - I dread to think what peircing you could have ended up with.
( big-girl's-blouse owns far too much fleece, Fri 18 Jan 2008, 13:59, closed)

Cut and paste
Achieved.

And now I am off for a shower.With bleach and wire wool.

I TOLD you I was trying to repress this.
( ancrenne doesn't eat anything that can play video games, Fri 18 Jan 2008, 20:06, closed)