Aside from being
an Ex - Chef with many guilty secrets
involving moaning bloody customers
and more and more inventive ways
of making they're food taste creamy
with "Chefs special Sauce" .
I also watch and enjoy the
hollyoaks 3 hour omnibus on
a sunday (kill me now)
and a brief grope girlie boy
when pilled years ago and the
fact i get Paid to arse about
online chat ladies up and terrorise
the other
staff and the fact i can impress
everyone with my so called
computer skill by typing in dir/s
in dos "ooh wizzy screen", and the
fact that i am a complete slut with
girls and dont care if its model or munter.
Any holes a goal ladz...
Size ?? 6 foot and growing bigger.
( Trollman, Thu 6 Sep 2007, 9:33, Reply)

Model train
As a boy I had a model railway. My mate Michael had a bigger and better one and generously lent me one of his engines at one point.

As said borrowed engine was going round my track, it hit some lump in the rails or something, and fell off the layout onto the floor of my bedroom. The chassis rails, being Hornby plastic, broke.

I took it back to school next day to give to Michael, but it was in the box and I didn't let on about the damage. At playtime, I said to Michael that we'd better go and have a look to make sure his engine was OK (an odd thing to do, but no matter). Lo and behold, when he took it out of the box it was broken. I denied all knowledge but said I'd seen one of our other classmates, Tommy, messing around with it earlier.

So Tommy got the blame, even though he (rightly) denied all responsibility. I even went to the length of bringing in my toy fingerprint kit after lunchtime and fabricating forensic evidence to condemn him.

And I got off scot free. Result!

I feel better for getting all this off my chest. The catharsis in this week's QOTW is great. It's like some sort of group therapy session:

"Hi, my name's [insert name] and I want to confess something to a bunch of people I've never met. And by the way, I also fancy rachelswipe".
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Thu 6 Sep 2007, 9:23, Reply)

Archery Treachery
When I was at university, I took an archery class. One of the first things they tell you before you touch the bow & arrows is that you should NEVER shoot an arrow that has lost a fletching (the 3 little feathers at the base). Well, they never tell you why, but they just throw the warning out there, tempting us like fools. With arrows. Anyway, everyone in the class would occasionally get an arrow missing 1 fletching and would still shoot it and it would work just fine, although no one had dared fire away with a single-feathered arrow. Well, one day I happen to see among my batch that I have accidentally snagged one that has NO FLETCHINGS WHATSOEVER.

I think you know where this is going. You're right, but there's more to it.

Toward the end of class, it comes time to fire our final rounds and break down the equipment. Well, as everyone else is firing the last arrows, I pick up the sans-fletching arrow, aim with extreme precision, fire, and watch in horror as the arrow not only goes way off target, but begins steadily rising in the air. And it doesn't stop rising. It just keeps going. I look over to the instructor who I swear is eyeing me suspiciously, but he says nothing. I quickly make like I hadn't even shot anything and start disassembling the bow. Subtly, I glance up to my arrow, still in mid-flight and not slowing down one bit. It continues past the end of the football field (yes, it went the entire length of a uni field), past the fence at the end of the pitch, and it is at that point that I realize I can no longer see the arrow, but given height and velocity, it was heading DIRECTLY for the dorms.

My imagination races. I will have shot some poor fellow student. They will kick me out and revoke all grants and scholarships. Imagine my terror, then, when within minutes, I hear ambulance sirens in the distance. Imagination races. I break down the equipment as fast as humanly possible and walk like the wind toward the dorms. Once over there, I see no ambulance. I search like a madman for any sign of arrow or impact. There is none.

To this day, I have no idea what happened to that projectile, but I never heard about any incident of a student being randomly arrowed, so I can only assume the best. The most baffling thing about the whole ordeal, however, is that in the bushes outside the dorms, I found an arrow... with all 3 fletchings!

I have since kept that arrow in my closet as a reminder to myself to be a smart man with the risks I take.

Length? Like I said... more than a football field.
( intesvensk can't recall when I last checked the newsletter, Thu 6 Sep 2007, 9:13, Reply)

i'm going to have to ask Rakky a few questions
news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/6981032.stm
(chili_kitten Cheese, peas and honey bees, Thu 6 Sep 2007, 9:00, Reply)

Here's my secret.........
My husband dumped me on Friday night and my mum doesn't know!
( Batshitmentalist is sane for once, Thu 6 Sep 2007, 8:31, Reply)

Okay, here's mine.
I think the Beatles were shit. I really don't like their music but bite my tongue when people bang on about how they were so fucking fantastic.
They had one saving grace, in that they were incredibly talented songwriters, but it's a shame they were always on acid singing about a bloody yellow submarine or marmalade skies.

I'm sorry, but they were shit.
(THIRTY-TWO - Sputnik -, Thu 6 Sep 2007, 7:37, Reply)

Lish;
i'm sorry, i didn't really fall over in those devastatingly expensive heels you leant me, i broke them whilst having sex in a park with my ex girlfriend, after sneaking out of the party her new girlfriend was throwing. and stealing her cigarettes..
(worth it though.)
first post, etc. not very exciting but it contains lesbians, which counts for something?
(charlottebronte stalking through the moors, Thu 6 Sep 2007, 5:50, Reply)

Apologies if you were there.
Picture the scene if you will. Club UK circa ’94. All pilled up and having a wicked time hugging randoms and dancing like a ‘tard. I get the familiar rumblings down below and realise I’ve got to do my e-shit. No worries, well used to this I toddle off to the bathroom blowing kisses at grown men and generally loving everything and everyone…

Until I get to the toilet. There’s no fucking toilet paper. I’m well past the point of no return so I just have to go for it. I’d been in Indonesia a couple of months earlier and had stayed in some places sans toilet paper and had got used to wiping my arse with my left hand – the things is you’re using the squat toilets there which makes the whole thing so much cleaner. I decide the best thing to do is try and emulate the shitting experience of the squat toilet and stand up on the bowl.

I do my thing and then wipe my arse with my hand – not pleasant but, hey, what would you have done when the alternative was shit your pants? Anyway, it all washes off – it’s not like my hands are made of cloth. The only problem was… the super tight cunts at Club UK used to turn the water off to stop cheap skates like me drinking from the bathroom taps. Oh dear. I’ve got a fair amount of shit on my hands and no way of washing it off.

Didn’t stop me going around hugging people, giving back massages and generally being a great guy.
(Creamy Discharge Freeze Motherstickers, this is a fuck up, Thu 6 Sep 2007, 4:57, Reply)

I wish I'd never remembered this one
First off, I'd like to say that I have never told anyone about this. Even, now, in total anonymity, I'm cringing as I type this.

Let me set the scene - I was 18, had recently stopped hanging around with my closest friends (for reasons I can't quite remember now), in a job I hated, when I made a sudden spontaneous decision to take a week-long trip to Amsterdam. I booked the flights, managed to get the holidays short notice, packed up and flew off.

Let me say at this point that you should never go on holiday by yourself. It is probably the single worst holiday I've had, and I've been caravaning in Wales for fuck sake.

Anyway, after wandering around feeling lost and bored, and after getting far more stoned than was good for me, I stumbled across the Red Light District. I haven't seen a bigger collection of ropey-looking underdressed tramps since my last big night out in Glasgow. As a horny teenager, however, I was in a moral dilemma. Would I pay for sex? The inner dispute took about three seconds to come up with the answer : Hell yeah!

The only problem was, I couldn't decide which 'lucky lady' I was gonna have some fun with. Did I want, fat, thin, blonde, brunette, old or young? It's like you've been asked to choose which whiney-faced James-Blunt-carbon-copy singer-songwriter should be savaged by a pack of wild dogs. Too much choice...

I decided to go with the one that caught my eye, that seemed to stand out. As I turned a corner, one of the girls in the windows performed a dance with her hands at her waist, firing them like pistols. This made me laugh, so I stepped up and asked how much.

"50 eauros dahrling" she said in a dodgy italian accent.

"Lead on" said I.

We moved into the back room, a squalid, yet somehow clinical affair. The place stank of sweat and baby oil. I handed over the money to my hired whore, taking the time to look her over as she counted it.

She was tall, leggy, with long brunette hair, strong features, and a very full bra. She looked good, though I now put this down to a combination of bad lighting and the number of joints I had smoked throughout the day. I was wasted.

"You get undreassed, dahrling?" she said huskily. At this point, I did notice her voice was lower than what I was used to, but figured it must be the same in all Mediterranean women.

I promptly stripped, and joined her on the leather couch. She then proceeded to start sucking on my already hard member, without using a condom. I lay back, enjoying the sensation. It shamefully remains, to this day, one of the best blowjobs I have ever had.

After a while I decided I was ready for action. I tapped her on the head and motioned I was ready for sex. After helping me on with the condom (it's worth repeating that I was pretty fucking wasted) she proceeded to turn her back to me, took my cock in her hand, and helped guide it into what I thought was her 'lady-chamber' (or, for all you foul-mothed fuckers out there, her cunt).

I was really getting into the sex, thrusting away, and she was responding well, making all the right noises. I felt myself approaching the point of no return, so decided it would be a good time to change positions. I stopped, and indicated with what I'm sure was a ridiculous hand motion for her to turn over onto her front.

She looked at me uncertainly. "You suare?" she asked. "What about..." She nodded downwards, I looked down, and her hand seemed to be covering something over her crotch. At this point, I still hadn't cottoned on. I actually said "What about what?" in a genuinely confused tone.

'She' removed her hand, and at this point I probably don't have to tell you what was under there. If you haven't guessed it already, I'll spell it out for you. It was a cock and fucking balls, meat and two veg, George Bush and his advisers.

She/he looked at me with concerned eyes. "Is okay?"

A million questions swarmed through me at once. Does this make me gay? Can I ever look at myself in the mirror again? Is it too late to ask for my 50 euros back?

Then I realised I had 5 minutes left, and I didn't have enough money for another actual girl. So I shrugged and asked her/him to finish me off with a blowjob. I'll say it again, I was really fucking wasted.

As she/he was sucking away I glanced down and noticed her/his 'full' bra was actually full of toilet paper, and, to make matters worse, the long brunette hair was a long brunette wig. This wasn't even a transsexual, it was a guy in drag.

Somehow, I closed my eyes and climaxed. Afterwards, I couldn't put my clothes on fast enough, and as I was going through the door, all I could say was "That was...interesting"

I went to my hotel room, and took the longest shower I have ever had in my life. The smell of baby oil seemed to linger for days.

Upon returning home, whenever anyone asked me how my holiday was, I said "Fine" and quickly changed the subject. To this day, the smell of baby oil makes me quesy.

So now you know my deepest, darkest, guiltiest secret. Just don't tell anyone. Please?




P.S I don't apologise for length, but she bloody well should have.
(Pavlov's Frog figures no-one really reads sigs anyway, Thu 6 Sep 2007, 4:29, Reply)

oh dear
I'm not a natural ginger.

Sometimes I think Drew Carey is attractive.

I watch "Dirty Jobs" too much for my own good.

Once I had a threesome with two blokes -- twins! (I'm a girl, btw.) And I liked it!

I have seen Duran Duran live more than once (and 20 years apart).

I used to go to Star Trek conventions, and I own a Beverly Crusher costume.

Worst of all -- I never learned to drive a car with manual transmission! Waa!
( cynfulcynner ...another American nutter, Thu 6 Sep 2007, 3:40, Reply)

some of what I've done...
...is actually worse than a rachelswipe story. quick list

1. Broke a drunk guys leg at the beach
2. Had sex with friends gf the night they broke up
3. Told people I had cancer so I could get money for a coke.
4. many more stories (most involving sex)
(irgod, Thu 6 Sep 2007, 2:59, Reply)

A certain photo....
A few years back and a few (2) mates and i decided to have an ale or 6 in local pub one saturday night, queue lots more than 6 ales. journey home went normally (stagger, sing etc etc). i was living with folks at the time at it wasnt unusal for me to invite drunk friends to sleep on couch while i trundled off to bed drunk. so friends sleep on both of the couches we have in lounge. we all woke in morning with bad heads and the usual post drunkeness stuff. they leave, i suppose your wondering where this is going...

ok, couple of months later, parents ask me to print out holiday snaps on their digital camera that was residing on mantle piece like it always does, and much to my dismay with folks looking over shoulder while i develop said pics on pc was a photo of 1 of my aforementioned friends passed out on a couch having pissed himself with his nob out.

now im a very liberal minded chap but i havent had the guts to ask other friend about what happened.....

scarred for life......
i will carry this to my grave i hope
(swifthips, Thu 6 Sep 2007, 1:24, Reply)

Pooflake
The test card girl used to and still does freak me out as well, there was the look of the devil in her eyes! I think partly as well it was due to the fact that of course being a youngster and being the first up ready for going live or whatever was going on at the time, i was on my own and it wasn't quite daylight yet. Recently i'm sure i saw a flashing animation on tv maybe as part of a theme tune to a show involving said test card which made the hairs stand, if anyone can recall it can you please inform me what it was from?
(Joey Stall, Thu 6 Sep 2007, 0:53, Reply)

ass yo do
when ever I read a post with 'as you do' in it, I stop reading immediately.


If it's funny enough it'll be in the newsletter.


It never is.
(parker larkin is an experiment, Thu 6 Sep 2007, 0:44, Reply)

I asked to see a picture
Of Rachelswipe.
(Just joking, she's lovely)
( jim_bob can herd cats., Thu 6 Sep 2007, 0:37, Reply)

I just agreed
to go on salsa dancing lessons with my new gf and i'm delighted, i even checked out salsa music cd's in virgin today.
(TheNumpty last touched you at, Thu 6 Sep 2007, 0:06, Reply)

Dearest Brother,
Do you remember the time (when you were 8 and I was 6) that I accidently bumped into you and you fell into a freezing cold boating lake? It was a couple of days after you'd had THAT embarassing operation. You screamed as the cold water hit the newly exposed tip of your little winky and Dad had to wade in and fish you out. I'm glad Nana was there to explain to Mum and Dad how it happened. It wouldnt have been fair for them to punish me for something I didnt mean, would it?

Several years have passed since then and the trauma of that day should be well and truly out of your system. The Psychiatrist has finally signed you off and your wife says you havent had nightmares about it for a long time.

I'm very proud of you and will always be here if you need me.

Your ever loving sister xxx


p.s. Even now, after all these years, I am often reduced to tears of laughter when thinking about it. Especially the bit when you went to hit me afterwards and got a right telling off . Afterall, it WAS only an accident - wasnt it??

p.p.s. I know the second paragraph isnt STRICTLY true, but you WERE traumatised for a while.
(Mademoiselle_Nobs woof, Thu 6 Sep 2007, 0:05, Reply)

Bleurgh
Also, I once stayed round my mates house after a night on the piss and dirty dirty hashish. I wandered off from the session in the living room, and ended up being sick all over the dining table. I didn't mention this and went to kip in the spare bed. Of course it didn't stay as my own little secret for long when his young brother and sister came downstairs for breakfast a couple of hours later.
(jnewco81, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 23:16, Reply)

The dreaded xmas party...again...
I have already posted about my xmas party experience before, and the morning after that very very heavy night I woke up in a workmates flat on the sofa. With the 1 bathroom occupied, and desperate for a piss, I wandered into the kitchen and pissed into a glass that was on the sideboard. Obviously after a heavy night, I pissed for about 5 pints, pouring the full glass into the sink while grabbing my exploding cock with the other in the hope that my friend would not exit the bathroom anytime soon.

Luckily he didn't.
(Eeevil You are losers, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 22:59, Reply)

They say
That video killed the radio star.

Lies - it was me.

Leaves by the drain
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 22:34, Reply)

I killed (*)
...Pavarotti.

Jose Carreras asked me to do it.

I never should have said I'd kill someone for a tenor. (**)

(*) am anticipating his imminent passing. Sorry.
(**) even more sorry for the shit joke. Maybe now would be a good time for a new QOTW?
(Rakky (forgot her password) The muffin maverick, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 22:30, Reply)

Um
I had typed a few things in here about things that I've done on an plane with an air hostess on a number of occasions - but it wasn't so much a guilty secret as blatant bragging.

So I won't.

.
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 22:30, Reply)

Sabrina
I enjoy Sabrina the Teenage Witch....

Oh the shame

Actually I rather fancy Melissa Joan Hart

**Shakes head**
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 22:03, Reply)

.
Guilty secrets?

Having sex with my best mate's gf

Having sex with 2 women from work (not on the same night!)whilst still with gf

Experimenting with a tranny

Spending hours on the Internets at work

Finding myself very attracted to a 14 year old girl (I'm 29)

There are many more....
(Trebuchet, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 19:46, Reply)

Shortie...
Last week while having lunch in a popular restaurant with two of my work colleagues, a midget waddled towards us and sat down at the adjacent table facing us. I thought to myself "Oh SHIT!" As soon as I made eye-contact with one of my colleagues, I started giggling in amusement with laughter.

One of those occasions where there are tears running down your eyes, no matter how hard you try, you cannot stop your shoulders from motioning up and down giving the game away.

All this happened. I laughed my tits off at the poor pintsized Lilliputian, but there was a chance to avoid it. I reacted like this simply because, my colleague said the oh-so magic word (with a slight shake of the head and the making of a soon-to-appear grin...) "Don't..."

Guilty secret? Midgets make me laugh all high pitched like a little girl!!!!!
(jaymierobber, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 19:16, Reply)

My guilty secret
My guilty secret is that I don't want to join in on the current wankfest that's going on in this board about rachaelswipe.

Seriously though, her stories are good, but some of you are sounding creepy.
(I have a face also had a sig on, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 18:49, Reply)

I play Pokémon!!!
Pokémon is AWESOME
( ClanSoul, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 18:44, Reply)

You may laugh
I play pokemon
(Menlui laughing maniacally, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 17:43, Reply)

The Orient
I lived in Asia for a while. And I finally succumbed to the rampant sex industry. Daring meeself....I paid for two young ladies one night and discovered that you can pay extra for them to lick your anus (my guilty secret). A new but not unpleasant experience. Never topped that evening since and never tried.
(wackers1, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 17:26, Reply)

My guilty secret occured just last night....
When i was in bed, reading this thread on my nintendo ds.That certainly is a guilty secret.
(kids_will_be_skeletons, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 17:26, Reply)