A replica US Army 1840s revolver.
I don't even like guns that much.

But I was on my way back from the Sierra Nevada (Spaghetti Western country) and it was 45 Euros from a petrol station/cafe/purveyor of huge knives, as is the trend in Spain.

My friend Ade bought a 60-Euro belt, I got my revolver and Greg bought a leather waterskin which looks suspiciously like a bull's scrotum that he'll probably catch Tuberculosis from.

Fuck knows why.

The worst thing is that now I have Gunny, I find myself watching TV and whoa! He's in my hand? How did that happen?

Bad Gunny.
(Miraclefish How appropriate, you fight like a cow, Tue 26 May 2009, 17:03, 3 replies)

Sweetie's post below reminds me...
A few months back I received a sexy text from my good lady, Liz, while I was at work on a slow Friday:-

JUST PICKED UP SOME FLAVOURED LUBE FROM BOOTS - WANNA TRY IT OUT LATER? X X X

Later, I meet Liz in the pub for a few jars. A few jars turns into quite a few jars. And quite a few shots. And a kebab.

We go back to ours and start making the beast with two backs. I start edging my way down her body, fancying a spot of cunning-linguistics. Then I remember the flavoured lube; might be a bit of a giggle. I ask Liz where she's stashed it. She explains, rather drunkenly, that its on the table next to the bed.

I fumble round in the dark, find the tube, squirt a liberal amount of the slippery stuff on her gash and start lapping away like a thirsty St. Bernard on a hot day attacking a bowl of cool water.

Yuk - the fucking lube tastes awful. Its doing strange things to my insides too. Oh, well. I eat the rest of the stuff off my good lady's puffy vertical smile and get down to some serious oral.

Fast forward to the morning. We wake up in a hung over heap.

Liz looks over and sees the unopened flavoured lube tube next to the bed. She looks at me questioningly.

I shrug.

Then I notice the tube on the floor next to the bed, squeezed in the middle, a little of the contents running out the end like thick, yellow toothpaste.

"Oh, you didn't..." says Liz.

But I had...

Athletes foot cream tastes fucking awful.

And, to make matters worse, I spent most of that Saturday morning on the bog, shitting out my small intestine and quite possibly a large part of my colon.
( SpankyHanky, Tue 26 May 2009, 16:57, 9 replies)

Random programming books
When I am in a book shop, I think oh, I could learn that, and that, oh thats interesting, I'd like to learn COBOL. Lets buy a book for some extortionate amount of money and then never read it.

Its like you think you are somehow learning it by just buying the book.
(thrain, Tue 26 May 2009, 16:25, 1 reply)

I joined the gym
I joined the gym. I paid £500 up front. And then went twice in a year. So £250 a visit. Still, I did nick a towel a visit, so it wasn't all bad.
(thrain, Tue 26 May 2009, 15:54, 1 reply)

Acting on Impulse
Tenuous, as no money exchanged hands, but this definitely involves Impulse.

20+ years ago, during my nurse training I did a stint on the Emergency Admissions ward (watered down A&E). A highly embarassed young lass came in with a "delicate problem". Y'see, she'd been indulging in a drop of ladies' cocoa with a can of Impulse body spray. The lid had *come* adrift in her young, nubile clopper.

She was in floods of tears, her imagination running riot as to what hideously invasive procedure might be entailed.
How did we remove the lid? Common sense, which had the lassie squirming even more with humiliation. At the suggestion of the doctor on duty, I went upstairs to the regular wards to procure a can of Impulse from the deceased's belongings.

Then the doctor explained the "procedure" to this poor girl. He removed the lid from the "new" can, slathered it liberally with KY jelly before plunging it into her clunge and "docking" with the missing lid. You could say he'd found a purchase.

"Why didn't I think of that?" she wailed.

"Next time, leave the lid off and use it the other way round", I suggested helpfully as she scuttled out.
( Tourette's ( . )( . ) has a monkey hair in her fried egg, Tue 26 May 2009, 15:28, 14 replies)

Bullets
A real, 100% genuine 7.62mm bullet.

It cost me 50pence from some ex-military stall at an airshow.

I was 8, my dad had let me wander off (it was safe for us kids to do that when I was a lad) so I spent 50p of my £1.00 pocket money on a bullet.

I've no idea why I wanted a bullet but I thought it was the coolest thing ever to actually own one. Seriously, a real bullet!!! How ace was I!!!

Not very.
( SpikeyPickle wishes he was mabazaritchie, Tue 26 May 2009, 15:24, 16 replies)

A ticket to the states
I bought a non refundable ticket to Washington state for £600ish to meet a girl off the Internet. Her mother told me I could come and all was well. Her dad found out and forbade it. Bam money gone.

What really rubs salt in the wound is 9 years later (which is now fellow b3tards) she comes to Cornwall here in the UK and is currently spending 6 months staying with a friend of mine in a house about 3 miles away and hasn't even made the effort to come visit me once and she's been here about 3 months now. Grrrrrr
( Peej, Tue 26 May 2009, 15:12, 12 replies)

Nazi Glider
I picked it up on the way into school, having shelled out my lunch money on this instead of something unnecessary, like food. It was one of those small polystyrene gliders with the realistic plastic propeller jobbie on the end that spun when you chucked it. Although it meant I was going to go hungry that dinnertime, I was as happy as the proverbial pig in shit walking to class that morning, first assembling and then playing with my small glider toy. It was a German one; so I pretended to shoot down shitloads of imaginary spitfires as I went – not being a particularly patriotic eight year old boy.

When I eventually arrived at school we had assembly first thing. I walked into the hall, still clutching my new toy, showing it off to the other kids like I was Billy Big Bollocks. And head, Mr Ozier, went through his usual boring drone about fuck knows what. Then, after he’d finished his bit, he asked if anybody had anything they’d like to show the rest of the school. (This was part of the routine at assemblies).

My hand shot up and I let out a little whimper. I was beckoned forward.

“Look!” I said, holding aloft my mighty new glider toy. The other kids were awed – I could tell.

Mr Ozier, the head teacher smiled down at me. “That’s nice, Spanky. What type of plane is that?”

I steadied myself, desperately tried to remember the name on the glider packaging, suddenly it came to me and I screamed as loudly as I could: “ITS A FUCKING WOLF, SIR!!! A FUCKING WOLF!!!”

My form tutor nearly fell off her chair. Some of the other kids chuckled and murmered.

Mr Ozier took my hand and led me off stage. He said to me quietly: “Focker Wulf, Spanky... Focker Wulf...”
( SpankyHanky, Tue 26 May 2009, 14:48, 4 replies)

Being a girl
means you should all click this cuz Im a girl. And if I win it will make me feel good and I may show you some pics of me, what with me being a female and everything. (Seems to be the thing to do this week).
Seriously though, my boyfriend hates the fact that I fill up the bathroom with bottles and potions. I just can't walk past a shop that sells gloop in a container without buying some. The other day I bought some stuff from the bodyshop that needed to be refrigerated. It smelt like avacado and honey. After I'd had a shower I found my boyfriend spreading some on some toast. I thought about letting him eat some before telling him. But chickened out in the end and stopped him. The last thing I wanted was a boyfriend throwing up all over the place.
(Sweetie, Tue 26 May 2009, 14:01, 10 replies)

Ebay is to blame
...for a lot of people's impulse buys, mine is no different. A quick search for a new case to house my moderate guitar pedal collection produced pretty much exactly the item I required within the first three results. Ever eager to find a bargain I scrolled through the first couple of pages only to notice, about half way down the second page, one of the thumbnails appeared to depict a skeleton. A quick click revealed the item was indeed 'Large wooden display case for sale... contains actual human skeleton'. £98 Buy It Now. Bargain! £98 for a whole person! Getting her (It's a female skeleton, her name is Jo) from London back to my house near Oxford was a bit of a pickle but totally worth it as the reaction she gets from first time guests is awesome.

When we move house I want to remove a few obviously human bones and hide them under our patio for the new owners to find... My girlfriend is very much against the idea though :(
(brainmeat ... and that's why it burns when you pee., Tue 26 May 2009, 13:49, 6 replies)

BMI Baby
After a late night drunken conversation with my brother who lives overseas I decided to book a plane ticket to go and see him the next day. Problem was, I was supposed to head for the airport four hours after the call to get the 7am plane. I was awoken at 9am by a call from my brother at the airport asking me why I wasn't on the plane. Whoops.
(ed-z, Tue 26 May 2009, 13:40, 2 replies)

wabbits
went to a garden centre to buy a replacement stone bench thing for a neighbour, came away with no bench but bought a couple of bunnies instead, the cute little bastards.

they're both girls but take delight in taking turns humping each other, this upsets my wife for some reason. I'm making rabbit porn and selling it on ebay.

the original bench was horrible, i'm glad i broke it.
(amazinglasercow now sporting terawatt mining lasers, Tue 26 May 2009, 13:20, 4 replies)

I signed up to ebay
To buy a replacement cornflakes world cup football cereal bowl.The boy dropped the last one and I thought it was a childhood treasure to him. Turns out it was quite a recent acquisition for uni, and only cost tokens saved from the cereal boxes.

But still, novelty football shape! Now I'm watching a snap, crackle and pop bowl to go with it... this can't be good.
(Mrs Ballunatic counting calories, not votes., Tue 26 May 2009, 12:05, 4 replies)

As has been said here before, not really an impulse buy:
More of just an impulse. I found this site and signed up on an impulse and now can't seem to stay away.

It's fun though, usually.
(MichaelS wasn't picked again, Tue 26 May 2009, 11:59, Reply)

EAZY DOES IT
“Where’s Eazy?” I said.

“I don’t know, I thought he was with you!” said my co-volunteer, Jo.

“EEEEAAAAZZZZYYYYY!!!” I said, losing it ever-so-slightly as I went stalking off looking for the little shit.

Now, despite the obvious problem this kid had – that his parent’s were drugged up hippies who had named him Eazy; his real name, the poor little fucker (we also had another kid with the first name of Snow; a bit weird but not too bad, not until you find out her surname was White), well Eazy also had Asperger’s and needed constant supervision. Unfortunately, so did the other kids we were with - all eight of them - and there were only three adults. It was a logistical fucking nightmare.

We were on a day out to London Zoo – I’ve volunteered working with autistic kids for about ten years now - so, off I go looking for Eazy who’d done his usual Steve McQueen in the Great Escape routine and fucked off to go and do his own thing – I was only glad the little bastard didn’t have access to a motorcycle.

With my arsehole fluttering, hoping Eazy hadn’t wandered into the lion enclosure, I eventually tracked him down next to the penguin pool. He was just stood there, grinning, clapping his hands and saying:

“Zoooooooo! Zoooooooo! Zooooooo!” to himself in a very low chirp,- a very contented twelve year old kid.

With Eazy safely rounded up we go back to the group and spend the next hour or so walking round, checking out the furry critters, petting the farm animals in the kids zoo; me never wanting a plate of lamb chops or a bacon sandwich more than at that moment in my life.

But eventually it’s time to go.

We leave, go to the car park, get the kids into the minibus. One of the other volunteers, a lad named Sean who’s driving, slides behind the steering wheel and checks out the rear view mirror. Then he stops and his eyes go a bit wide.

“There’s something moving!” He says. Jo and I turn our heads and look. And, sure enough, there is something moving. Eazy’s Jar-Jar Binks satchel shaped like the cunt-destroyer-of-the-new-star-wars-movies head is jerking about on the sear next to Eazy, who’s staring down at it and grinning.

Being a macho kind of man, I turn to Jo and say: “Jo – go and see what’s in the bag, will you.”

She whispers back at me so the kids can’t hear: “Fuck off, Spanky – Eazy was your responsibility.”

So, I edge forward, ask Eazy what he’s got in the bag – he just grins at me a bit more. So, I unzip the satchel and –

- leap backwards, absolutely scared shitless.

“What is it?” Sean asks, as he and Jo come round to have a look.

And we all stare...

A penguin.

A fucking penguin.

Stares back at us, its head cocked to one side. Regarding us with its beady little eye.

I reach forward and fumble with the zip on Jar-Jar’s head. The penguin, looking a bit perturbed, tries to nip at my fingers. But it’s pretty docile and I manage to trap it back inside.

Sean and Jo look at me as if to say: “You’re gonna have to take it back.”

And I do. Eazy still grinning like a twat as I trudge off as if to say: “I’m the cleverest kid in the entire world, me!”

With a kiddies Jar Jar Binks satchel on my back I walk back to the main entrance, find someone in a green London Zoo sweat shirt and say: “Errr, I’ve got a penguin in here... sorry...”

“What?”

“I've got a penguin in here,” and I indicate the satchel.

“Are you sure?”

“YES!”

"Are you absolutely certain?"

"YES! Its definately not a sodding pidgeon." And then I explained what had happened.

And, after a bit of a kerfuffle, the bird’s returned.

Very embarrassing.

Not really an impulse buy, more an impulse steal...

And – thinking back – probably the most excruciatingly mortifying part of the whole episode was walking round North London for twenty minutes or-so with the big eared, googly-eyed cunt from Episode I in furry form hugging my back.

Made me feel like a complete twat, that did.
( SpankyHanky, Tue 26 May 2009, 10:37, 14 replies)

Carboot sales
Walking around looking for some good deals and ending up buying 30 videos and 3 tables...

firstly I dont have a VHS player, couldnt even find one to buy and what am I going to do with 3 tables?!
(st-evo And thats why fat people goto disney land, Tue 26 May 2009, 10:21, 4 replies)

I only went in for a sandwich...


Snaccident - when you go into M&S for a sandwich or similar snack, and then it all goes a bit wrong.

:(
(MattWPBS, Tue 26 May 2009, 10:14, 9 replies)

'Er indoors is well known for it ...
Example.

We had an old shed of an Audi estate that we used for the garden centre, taking the dogs to the vet etc ...

It finally gave up, and she said she'd pop into the local second hand garage 'to see if they've got owt' when she was next out. She came back having organised delivery of a brand new A6 estate for that weekend.

6 months later she decided that her 8 year old 20k miles Z3 wasn't the right colour. Did the same thing again, except she'd specc'd and ordered an S4 cabrio from the same dealer.

A year after that she came to pick me up after I'd dropped the A6 in for a service. She saw a mega-spec Q7 in the showroom ... three guesses ...

And don't get me started on her jewllery ....

Mind you, last year, I happened to mention that a local dealer had the particular model of motorbike I'd been after for a while (I already have 2) .. she said 'Well why don't you go and buy it then?'

I didn't need telling twice ...
(Captain Dispensible, Tue 26 May 2009, 9:52, 3 replies)

Well, this one is a little geeky...
But I decided my computer was running to warm and sounded like a hurricane. So, I looked at aftermarket coolers for my lovely graphics card (Nvidia 260, couldn't afford the 280) and plumped for the Thermalright kit specially designed to this type of card. Great, this'll do the job.
I'll just take a quick look on the thermalright website. What is this? More types of heatsink than you can shake a stick at. Hmm, I'm bound to need the rear side cooler for the grahics card. And that masive heatsink for the main processor. Well, at the same time I'll get the rear cooler for that too. And some fans. But quiet ones, mind.

Ooh, it appears Scan is the only official UK retailer of Thermalright kit - I'll just take a look there. Yes! I can get it all there. Now, good fans. These look good, specially designed bearings which float in oil! No idea what that means, but sounds wonderful. Need two.

Now, what does that some to?

£150 delivered. For cooling a processor and a graphics card. It's OK, they take PayPal - I've got some cash on that. So it's only costing me £100. For some fancy lumps of aluminium and a couple of huffers.

It's not arrived yet, but it better be worth it.
( gareth_alien will be human again at, Tue 26 May 2009, 9:19, 5 replies)

Me and a friend, pissed as feck stumbling towards the taxi bay
after a good night out. Between us and the taxis there was a kebab house which I affectionately call "Donate-a-Kebab". He sees this building of delights (and possibly smallpox) and mutters to me "I wanna kebab."
I check me pockets, barely enough to go halves with the taxi.
"I got nothing m8, you have one."
"Ahhh, I'll buy you some chips mate, no probs."
"Cheers matey" grins I. We stumble in. After a minutes wait and me mate glaring at the menu above the counter (he's got 10% vision when he's sober, the alcohol wasn't helping) he goes "I want the giant one...thing, biggest bab you got! Oh and get Jeccy some chips too."
After a few minutes they cart out this fuck-off massive tray of bacterialness, pass it to my friend and give me a small poxy tray of chips. I wasn't complaining, I was drunk and eating chips for free, so it's still a win. It cost about £12 for this mammoth kebab (which could have contained mammoth, it was a truly massive box of mess covered in salad, coleslaw, chili sauce etc).
We wonder outside, and me mate takes one forkful.
"I don't like it. Jeccy, swaps for your chips?"
"Eh?"
I dutifully swap and end up eating this huge kebab in the taxi, while he scoffs up all the chips with a big grin on his face. That'll learn him to blow £12 on a kebab when he can hardly see for fuck's sake, stupid blinder.
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Tue 26 May 2009, 8:56, 1 reply)

Not me, but the wife...
..is famous for it.
A few years back we went to buy a small pot of paint to fix a scratch on the car - and bought a new car.
Bizarrely, we also bought the paint. And the new car was a different colour.

Two years ago we went out to buy cat food and parked outside a house near the shop.
"That's a nice house", she says.
Guess where we now live?
(greatoldone Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl f'tagn, Tue 26 May 2009, 7:03, 6 replies)

I bought a ghillie suit a few years ago
It cost me 125 pounds...

I've never actually worn it yet.

Dunno..
(Komsomol, Tue 26 May 2009, 2:28, 2 replies)

The one thing I wish I had never done
Is buy that kilo of heroin.
(Agent Dale Pooper k in the p, Tue 26 May 2009, 2:20, 1 reply)

I bought me a Jew's Harp
And lost the instructions, still it was only £3.
(chrisdood Why yes, I am the shizzle, Tue 26 May 2009, 0:53, 2 replies)

Blue Diamond
Drunk (obviously) the other day, I paid £150 for a box of Viagra off teh internet. I have no problem getting wood, and don't have a girlfriend. Still, when I get around to popping one of those puppies, I am going to have the Best Wank Ever.
(lardaholics anonymous, Mon 25 May 2009, 23:38, 6 replies)

Ijoy Ride
Google it if you don't know . . its basically an exercise solution (I.e. useless piece of shit) that you sit on and it moves back and forward at a variety of speeds... its for people who have more weight than they should (i.e. fat people) . . I brought one for my girlfriend, which instead of taking it as the insult it so clearly was, she took it as half genuinely thoughtful present as she was trying to loose weight and tone . . the other half was as a suggestive sex toy.
I could see why she thought this as I had made a point of showing her the fit models on youtube using it . . which is HOT. But when my Girlfriend decided to ride it naked, as a 'surprise' it looked liked someone had given a Porpoise rohypnol then fucked its blow hole.

We're getting married next year
(Untitled1, Mon 25 May 2009, 21:50, 8 replies)

Calvin Klein underwear...
I started working in a clothing retail store in September 2008, and have since, steadily declined into buying a shit load of clothes I really don't need, particularly Calvin Klein underwear - be it "Special Edition" gold, hot pink boxers, black, or red - I'll buy them all.
Today my most recent purchase was Calvin Klein's with a cool as fuck paisley design.
And I got 30% off them - which made them a mere £12.

Fucking bargain for a student!
(ColinS needs to eat, Mon 25 May 2009, 20:12, 20 replies)

My Chocolate Bed
When drunk, I enjoy watching really bad TV. Utter shite. The worse it is, the more I enjoy it. Years ago, we used to sit in our shitty student accommodation watching The Dating Channel on Sky Channel 9,000,000 for hours, drinking cheap beer and filling the room with green smoke. The entertainment value of watching video of diaries of the weird and desperate was immeasurable, combined with the fact that it made us feel a bit better about our own pathetic existences.

Nowadays, I have a proper job and everything, so my tastes are somewhat more refined. Well, they're not, but I don't have Sky. So no more Dating Channel for me. Crashing through the front door after an absinthe bender, the worst I could normally find on the box was Two Pints Of Lager. But one day, through a combination of drunken heroics and holding the remote control upside-down, I found the ultimate in TV sewage.

Price-drop TV.

Price.

Drop.

TV.

Awesome. 1-carat gold sovereign rings, kitchen appliances with fictional brand names, overly complicated "gizmos" that serve absolutely no purpose whatsoever, all peddled by a gurning twat who has been snorting prozac all day. It was everything I ever wanted.

At least, I thought it was everything I ever wanted. Until roughly 1am, when they brought on the most amazing thing that my beer goggles had ever seen. I was straight on the phone. I was £15 poorer, but in terms of cool, I was a millionaire. And then promptly forgot all about my purchase.

Two weeks later, a large package arrived. I opened it. Inside was a complete set of deep purple satin bedsheets and pillow cases. Deep purple. And satin.

I put them on my bed. I showed my housemate.

"It looks like a giant bar of Dairy Milk," was the conclusion.

For some reason, I am yet to convince a lady to stay the night with me when the bed is in it's giant Dairy Milk guise.

Having said that, I haven't tried convincing a fat bird yet...
(Sloppy Giuseppe, Mon 25 May 2009, 19:45, 7 replies)