b3ta.com user jinglebellsmotherfucker
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Je suis LURKER.


DO NOT FEED.

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Best answers to questions:

» Embarrassing Injuries

not me, but...
... a true story about a mate:

My good friend (we'll call him Ben) and his lovely girlfriend (we'll call her Kat - and this is the story as told to me by her) had recently started dating each other, and they were somewhat into kinky sex. Kat was stark naked spread and tied to a bed for Ben to do what he pleased (all consentual) - unfortunately on his way over to her in his best sexy swagger his stumped his toes on the wooden bed leg and let out a manly (hah) little scream and began hopping around on one leg. He then tripped on a pair of hair-straighteners or a hair-dryer or something that was lying around (I forget exactly) and smacked his head off of the bedside table and knocked himself out cold.

I'm not sure I could imagine Kat's terror as she is naked and tied down and unable to do anything about Ben who is bleeding from his face, unconscious on the floor - though after about ten minutes ben came round and managed to pull himself onto the bed where he managed to untie one of Kat's hands before slumping back to the floor. Now able to free herself Kat managed to phone an ambulance and was so busy trying to tend to Ben that they were both still starkers when the paramedics arrived who took Ben to A&E - hefractured his cheekbone and has an impressive scar. He says it was worth it for the great story though.
(Thu 2nd Sep 2004, 15:21, More)

» Job Interviews

I went for an interview...
... at Cambridge University to try and get an offer of a place on a maths course. I eventually found my way though the maze of some backward king's college administration building to meet a mad old professor.

I was told it wasn't unusal to ben interviewed by three people but he was on his own in a dusty old room full of books and bit's of paper covered in notes all over the floor. Despite being asked some horrific questions about my opinion on the nature of maths (wtf?) and having to justify why I thought the proof for 0! = 1 is incredibly stupid the interview went quite well.

It ended, I stood up and shook hands and thanked him and turned to the door opened it walked in and shut it behind me. I was daydreaming/looking at the floor/insane for I had walked into the closet. A bookshelf of ancient books, several jackets and canes were lying about, but no exit. Perhaps he hadn't noticed, I stayed in the closet for about a minute then opened the door and backed out.

Thankfully the professor was snoring loudly on his desk (was I that dull?) and I escaped red faced. Cambridge offered me a place which I rejected to take engineering at Edinburgh which I promptly dropped out of.
(Sun 23rd Jan 2005, 17:04, More)

» Near Death Experiences

death, pahahaha - I laugh in your face!
Some time ago, I was involved in a rather nasty incident, some scoundrel had placed a small claymore landmine in my tophat and hat replaced my tin of moustache wax with a tin of napalm.

I know have half a face, but Jeeves is still hot on the trails or the scallywag.
(Thu 25th Nov 2004, 13:54, More)

» My Worst Vomit

mmm.... chilled
once at a rather tipsy barbecue fest, had a little too much wine and meths and was ordered to fetch some more burgers from the freezer. I don't actually recall what apparently happened next but my friends assured me about thirty minuytes later when I hadn't returned they found me asleep at the freezer with my hands trapped in the door - it was one of those chest-type freezers and I had vomited quite prodigously into it. needless to say I wasn't invited back and kept off the meths from then on...
(Fri 20th Aug 2004, 12:57, More)

» My Worst Vomit

hospital induced vomiting
when I was yey high, about three or four years or so old - I had returned from'Tumble Tots' a foam-clad padded climbing playground day-care type centre for young kids. My mum had only left my own my own for a minute and half while she was on the phone or something. I managed to climb onto the kitchen surface (a mean feat in itself) and then stack several tins and boxes and reach up to the high cupboard where medicines were kept. I'd downed a handful of 'sweeties' before mum came back and found me with an empty bottle of prescription painkillers.

One speedy drive to hospital later and a male nurse with dued blonde hair (you remember the darndest things) gave me a a throw-up pill and sent me packing.

A few hours later, happy as larry plying with my mate jamie from next door I spewed all over his mums expensive persian rug and couldn't stop vomiting for ages. Jackie (Jamies mum) was none too pleased as I remember, the best vomit of my life.
(Sun 22nd Aug 2004, 19:21, More)
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