» My first experience of porn

Robin Hood, Robin Hood Riding Through The Glen
AT LAST. A chance to tell my story.

Through my teenage years, I have had a recurring memory, which follows.

I am watching Knightrider with my family. Then, when it finishes, I watch a doctor lying on a hospital gurney, being fellated by a nurse.

I put this down to teenage hormones, maybe something I've dreamt.. dunno. But this memory would constantly come back to me, over, and over again. But it would irritate the living HELL out of me.

Well, until my Stag party in 2003, that was.

The boys were round, so was my Dad. We were drinking. All of a sudden, my Dad said "Ooooh, did I ever tell anyone the Robin Hood story?"

The story went thusly.

My Sister and I (I was around 9 or 10 at this point) were apparently desperate to watch Robin Hood. It was after our bedtime, so he recorded it for us. Next night, the boys came round, and my Father watched a porno with them. You can probably see what's coming.

Sunday comes around. We watch Knightrider. Then "DAD!! Can we watch Robin Hood? Huh? Can we?"

Video channel selected, video played. John Holmes is shoving is considerable cock down a nurses throat.

My Mum was apparently yelling "TURN IT OFF! TURN IT OFFF!!", whilst my Dad sat in complete shock, remote in hand, while my sister and I watched a bad man put his wee-wee down a lady's throat.

The relief was palpable. I had finally worked out what had been bugging me for THIRTEEN YEARS.

The results? An obsession with porn, and I vaguely remember spending time rolling round the living room floor, trying to give myself a blowjob.
(Fri 26th Jan 2007, 20:05, More)

» Clients Are Stupid

Unusual... hmmmm
Bizarre one.

I worked at Time Computer's head office in Tech Support for 2 years (yes, it was shite). We had a few interesting calls. One particularly memorable customer was this guy who kept calling in. I got him a lot of the time.

First call - he kept getting illegal operations. He was convinced, no matter how much we told him otherwise, that it was because he was looking at pr0n and he had been caught.

Second call - He wanted to put a fireball (his words) onto the computer as the illegal operations were now because he had top secret submarine plans on his computer, and the FBI were watching him. He was terrified he was going to get caught.

Third Call - people were speaking to him from inside his computer. He'd convinced himself that there were little people watching him from within the 'grey box' and were trying to steal his plans. It was they who were posting the illegal operations on the screen.

Fourth Call - He began talking gibberish to us about NASA and the way they were trying to get his plans. By now, we were just humoring him. He said 'I really need to go and reboot my eyes'. I could hear his wife crying in the background.

Fifth call - His wife called to enquire as to a refund. I was concerned, so I asked how he was. It transpired that he had decended into insanity and was committed the previous day.

So, so strange.


There are more which I may or may not post, depending on how much work I'm not doing.
(Mon 29th Dec 2003, 15:05, More)

» School Trips

Menstrual France
For some reason, I missed out on a trip to France with my year when I was in my third year at high school. I could have been ill or something - anyway, the second years went shortly after the third years came back, so I went with them instead.

I was the big boy, and everyone kinda looked up to me. I got all the sausages at meal times, and everyone would listen, enthralled as I regaled them with Third Year stories, helping them appreciate the hidden wonders of Mid-School life. I also got kudos off the ladies of the group, but sadly no handjobs.

One evening, I was scaring the shit out of a group with some spooky stories. We all retired to sleep. In the morning, we were all awoken by a scream. Hurtling down the corridor, we opened the door of one of the girl's dorms, to find blood smeared down the left hand door of the wardrobe. The issuer of the scream had just discovered it.

Everyone was questioned. No-one admitted to having smeared the blood - everyone was jumpy anyway, 'cos of my storytelling Skillz the previous evening. The teachers weren't too sure what had happened.

The next morning, another scream. There was now blood in another girl's bed, and in the bathroom.

The girl was questioned - it turns out she had her first period. Her parents must have been shit, as she had no idea what was happening to her poor 12 year old body. So she mopped up what she could with her hands, and wiped it on the wardrobe door, and, I assume, thinking she was some kind of freak, hoped it would go away. Then, obv, she slept and bled all evening. Quite a heavy one too.

So, yes. That was my introduction to the wonder that is Menstrual Fluid. It was also my introduction to tits (I got a sneaky glance at a rather fine pair of buds), and I sniffed a bra. Not quite sure why, but I liked it.

School trips are ace.
(Sun 10th Dec 2006, 20:46, More)

» Lies Your Parents Told You

Milk
..My father, when I was around 3 or 4, would regularly ask me where milk came from. Being an intelligent child, I replied 'Cows', which would appear to be correct.
However, my Father, being the 'funny bugger' that he is, would advise me that I was correct, but he enjoyed adding that it was possible to get milk from trees, and, in fact, that is where we got our milk from. 'Bollocks' (or some such 3 year old variant) I replied, "Milk comes from Cows and cows alone"

I went to bed one evening, and The Great Bald One (TM) had an evil gleam in his eye.

I awoke, refreshed from my peaceful slumber, and my Father, excited, pointed out of the window. "There" he cried triumphantly. "Milk. On the Tree. I'll go and pick it now". And there, lo and behold, milk bottles were hanging, white and proud from the tree. He had tied milk bottles to the tree.

After that day, for a good while after, whenever people would ask where milk came from, I would reply "cows. And Trees"

He's just that kind of man. And I have become him with my own son. Lying to children for your own amusement is very funny, it is big, and it is clever.
(Thu 15th Jan 2004, 12:22, More)

» Rock and Roll Stories

College Fun
I was in a few bands, as vocalist, at college. Mostly shite, we did Nirvana, Rage Against The Machine and Faith No More covers, as well as some of our own material, of the bouncy, grungy metal variety. The members of all the bands were me on vocals (a strapping goth-metal mutant), Ginger Paul on Geetar (a typical bedroom guitarist), Eddie Starr on rhythm Guitar(a mental 'proper' punk), Purple on Bass (strange goth-chap, now sadly dead) and Si on Drums (odd, spaced out chap who smelled of cheap beans)

Before our first gig out of college, The Four Horses of the Apocalypse (for that was our name at that point - we were also Burnt Toast, and Ten-Inch-Screws), we proceeded to meet at college at around Nine o'clock that morning, and work our way through several bottles of white lightening. We drank ourselves sober by lunchtime, then carried on, smoking weed, and drinking more White Lightening. By gig time, we were all blotto.

As this was a college thing, there were a few bands on. In addition to the Four Horses, I was also in 'Innov-8', featuring my future wife on keyboards and vocals, and I was singing 'Mustang Sally' for them. Both our respective parents were in the audience (I was sixteen), and I proceeded to introduce the song in the only way I knew how.

"Soul doesn't come from the heart - oh, no. It comes from the FUCKING BOLLOCKS", all the while grabbing my cock and balls and waving them around, sheathed only in a thin pair of combats, gothed up with face paint and covered in chains.

After putting in an admittedly impressive performance (I do a mean Mustang Sally - you HAVE to hear it sometime!), it was the main event.

The Four Horses of the Apocalypse were headlining. We climbed up on stage, and kicked out our opener, 'Breed', made famous by Nirvana. We were awful, completely pissed, and incapable of putting on a show. Eddie was more fucked than anyone else, and he proceeded to strangle his guitar, fall over, bump into everyone, and just swear into his mic. I made a big decision there and then.

I sacked him from the band, halfway through the song.

He looked at me, to gauge my seriousness. I stared him back, a 6ft Goth squaring off against a 5ft 4 Punk, dayglo multiple mohawks peppering his head. He got the message, lifted his guitar above his head, and tried to hit me with it. He missed, and he broke it on the floor. He stormed off the stage, and proceeded to steal all the mirrors from the bathroom, before glassing a bouncer who tried to get him to stop it.

We carried on, and put on a sprawling, stumbling mess of a show. People, afterwards did declare it 'brilliant' though.

He'd forgotten all about it in the morning, but we never again played a gig together.

A few years ago, I called him though. His Mum answered, and I got fits of giggles when she shouted 'EDWARD! Phone for you darling', and he replied 'Ok, Thanks Mum'. Just imagining the little chubby punk being so polite tickled me.

Sorry for length. Actually, no I'm not. Rawr. ROCK AND ROLL!!
(Mon 3rd Jul 2006, 14:34, More)