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- a member for 20 years, 2 months and 18 days
- has posted 22 messages on the main board
- has posted 0 messages on the talk board
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- has posted 8 stories and 22 replies on question of the week
- They liked 24 pictures, 2 links, 0 talk posts, and 11 qotw answers.
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» Things to do before you die
Last Week
I abused your trust by saying that I would post googly eye pictures if you clicked 'I like this'. Work was busy, I know it's no excuse but I just didn't have the time, and then it was too late. The new compo was up and I hadn't uploaded any pictures of googly eyes. For that I am sorry. Click I like this only if you like this picture of Cheryl Kerl man pet with googly eyes, on a phone box next to central station in Newcastle, her spiritual home. I don't want to get in trouble so I suppose I've always wanted to add googly eyes to posters before I die.
Check it out you can almost see her tit. That is one googly eyed malaria ridden shiny haired hot piece of radgie ass.
(Fri 15th Oct 2010, 19:18, More)
Last Week
I abused your trust by saying that I would post googly eye pictures if you clicked 'I like this'. Work was busy, I know it's no excuse but I just didn't have the time, and then it was too late. The new compo was up and I hadn't uploaded any pictures of googly eyes. For that I am sorry. Click I like this only if you like this picture of Cheryl Kerl man pet with googly eyes, on a phone box next to central station in Newcastle, her spiritual home. I don't want to get in trouble so I suppose I've always wanted to add googly eyes to posters before I die.
Check it out you can almost see her tit. That is one googly eyed malaria ridden shiny haired hot piece of radgie ass.
(Fri 15th Oct 2010, 19:18, More)
» Never Meet Your Heroes
Dr Karl Kennedy
I was out with a load of my friends on new years eve 2001 in a trendy bar that used to be a fire station. It was quite empty for some reason and we were one of only two big parties in there. Suddenly we heard a furore from over the other side of the room, it was squeels of delight from some of my friends who'd been at the bar and had noticed none other than "Dr K". I was extremely sceptical of it being him but in my drunken state I went over and started loudly stating that it couldn't be him and he was just some middle aged sleaze who was using his passing similarity to the "Love Dr" to hit on 18 year old girls. The guy took it in good humour (well, he didn't hit me) and after the believers had solicited signatures we moved on. The first thing I noticed on exiting the door was a large advert on a bus stop for a panto starring Dr Kennedy in Sheffield.
I don't know if this is considered long so I will apologise just in case.
(Sun 28th May 2006, 14:56, More)
Dr Karl Kennedy
I was out with a load of my friends on new years eve 2001 in a trendy bar that used to be a fire station. It was quite empty for some reason and we were one of only two big parties in there. Suddenly we heard a furore from over the other side of the room, it was squeels of delight from some of my friends who'd been at the bar and had noticed none other than "Dr K". I was extremely sceptical of it being him but in my drunken state I went over and started loudly stating that it couldn't be him and he was just some middle aged sleaze who was using his passing similarity to the "Love Dr" to hit on 18 year old girls. The guy took it in good humour (well, he didn't hit me) and after the believers had solicited signatures we moved on. The first thing I noticed on exiting the door was a large advert on a bus stop for a panto starring Dr Kennedy in Sheffield.
I don't know if this is considered long so I will apologise just in case.
(Sun 28th May 2006, 14:56, More)
» Public Transport Trauma
The Poker Face
During my student years I regularly used to get the train from Newcastle to Sheffield, and being chronically disorganised I would always fail to book tickets early. I would check ticket prices online, whinge about how expensive they were and decide to make the trip for free. As neither station has gates I would usually either buy a ticket that would get me half way then pretend to be asleep (incredibly stressful, especially when the possibility of actually falling asleep and missing my stop was factored in) or not buy a ticket at all and go for the old 'expressionless mask' whereby you simply ignore the conductor when he comes along the train checking tickets (ridiculously stressful, not remotely worth it). I finally decided to start paying my way when the conductor fell over on top of me as the train rounded a corner while he was checking tickets. He then went to open the doors for the next station and on his next round he asked for my ticket. While I was going to my pocket to get my non printed ticket that I saved for emergencies (would never, ever, work) he said "Oh aye I've seen yours, I fell over on you didn't I", I nodded and realised that I'd been given a warning. I now buy a ticket for every journey, not least because when you have one and a good book public transport is an incredibly nice way to travel (if you're not on it during rush hour). Still dodge the fare on the Metro though, that's just too easy. Having said that I once vaulted over the platform wall to avoid ticket inspectors and fell about 12 feet into some bushes. In my haste to avoid paying the £10 first offence fine I almost broke both my legs. Worth it.
(Fri 30th May 2008, 19:10, More)
The Poker Face
During my student years I regularly used to get the train from Newcastle to Sheffield, and being chronically disorganised I would always fail to book tickets early. I would check ticket prices online, whinge about how expensive they were and decide to make the trip for free. As neither station has gates I would usually either buy a ticket that would get me half way then pretend to be asleep (incredibly stressful, especially when the possibility of actually falling asleep and missing my stop was factored in) or not buy a ticket at all and go for the old 'expressionless mask' whereby you simply ignore the conductor when he comes along the train checking tickets (ridiculously stressful, not remotely worth it). I finally decided to start paying my way when the conductor fell over on top of me as the train rounded a corner while he was checking tickets. He then went to open the doors for the next station and on his next round he asked for my ticket. While I was going to my pocket to get my non printed ticket that I saved for emergencies (would never, ever, work) he said "Oh aye I've seen yours, I fell over on you didn't I", I nodded and realised that I'd been given a warning. I now buy a ticket for every journey, not least because when you have one and a good book public transport is an incredibly nice way to travel (if you're not on it during rush hour). Still dodge the fare on the Metro though, that's just too easy. Having said that I once vaulted over the platform wall to avoid ticket inspectors and fell about 12 feet into some bushes. In my haste to avoid paying the £10 first offence fine I almost broke both my legs. Worth it.
(Fri 30th May 2008, 19:10, More)
» School Naughtiness
Master criminal
I was a 15 year old middle-low social ranking student, and used to hang around with similar types. We got up to pretty standard school stuff (I recall one of my teachers chatting to my mum about how the OFSTED inspection had gone ok apart from two students being found duct taped together and having to stiffle a giggle but I was pretty much scared of authority so nothing too bad ever happened). There was one incident where we almost touched expulsion. We had spent a biology lesson writing poems about a particularly gruff lady teacher in the back of my friend Tim's (short, widow's peak, full of shit, policeman last I heard) exercise book. Good clean fun. Until he handed it in, like a dickhead. My scribbly handwriting was recognised and it was passed on up the ladder to the deputy headmaster (DH) and acting deputy head (ADH) who, in retrospect, was a bit of a dude. Luckily I didn't have to grass up the rest of the poets as Tim had already done the honours (I suspect I would have folded almost as soon as the good cop/ bad cop routine started) and the ordeal began with me having to read my poem to them. ADH was sat behind DH stiffling giggles (my poem started "Mrs ... is a guiness drinking, guiness swilling".... went on for several lines of childish twaddle and ended.... "chutney ferret. with a willy". My best mate Rob's poem started "Mrs ... is a rooting tooting love gun shooting" ... went on for several much funnier lines and ended... "oh how I'd love to wed her and bed her tonight", so I didn't envy him having to read that out! The other two culprits Tim and Tom (wideboy sociopath, succesful with girls,no idea why he was sat with us in this particular lesson) poems can't have been great as I can't remember any of them.
I'm not sure what they said to the others but I was told what I'd written was libelous and that I'd be kicked out of school... I was cacking it. My parents were called (they said it wasn't that bad and that they could tell I was just trying to fit in, and also that my poem was less offensive (the fact that the word ferret was written in different coloured ink so they thought someone else had written it played in my favour)) and in the end the only punishment we got was leaft collection for a week. The worse punishment was knowing that the lady teacher read the poems and was really upset... I still feel bad about it now.
(Thu 8th Sep 2011, 20:01, More)
Master criminal
I was a 15 year old middle-low social ranking student, and used to hang around with similar types. We got up to pretty standard school stuff (I recall one of my teachers chatting to my mum about how the OFSTED inspection had gone ok apart from two students being found duct taped together and having to stiffle a giggle but I was pretty much scared of authority so nothing too bad ever happened). There was one incident where we almost touched expulsion. We had spent a biology lesson writing poems about a particularly gruff lady teacher in the back of my friend Tim's (short, widow's peak, full of shit, policeman last I heard) exercise book. Good clean fun. Until he handed it in, like a dickhead. My scribbly handwriting was recognised and it was passed on up the ladder to the deputy headmaster (DH) and acting deputy head (ADH) who, in retrospect, was a bit of a dude. Luckily I didn't have to grass up the rest of the poets as Tim had already done the honours (I suspect I would have folded almost as soon as the good cop/ bad cop routine started) and the ordeal began with me having to read my poem to them. ADH was sat behind DH stiffling giggles (my poem started "Mrs ... is a guiness drinking, guiness swilling".... went on for several lines of childish twaddle and ended.... "chutney ferret. with a willy". My best mate Rob's poem started "Mrs ... is a rooting tooting love gun shooting" ... went on for several much funnier lines and ended... "oh how I'd love to wed her and bed her tonight", so I didn't envy him having to read that out! The other two culprits Tim and Tom (wideboy sociopath, succesful with girls,no idea why he was sat with us in this particular lesson) poems can't have been great as I can't remember any of them.
I'm not sure what they said to the others but I was told what I'd written was libelous and that I'd be kicked out of school... I was cacking it. My parents were called (they said it wasn't that bad and that they could tell I was just trying to fit in, and also that my poem was less offensive (the fact that the word ferret was written in different coloured ink so they thought someone else had written it played in my favour)) and in the end the only punishment we got was leaft collection for a week. The worse punishment was knowing that the lady teacher read the poems and was really upset... I still feel bad about it now.
(Thu 8th Sep 2011, 20:01, More)