b3ta.com user ohmyliver
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*mumble mumble mumble*

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» Scary Neighbours

I once made the mistake of living in a bedsit, with a 50 quid deposit
To set the scene, it was the early 90s in Brighton (when it was a cheap place full of gayers, druggies, excentrics, and the clinically insane, rather than the home for white collar workers who can't hack London/Barley by sea it is now). My closest neighbour, well I didn't realise that she was mad, untill my Landlord asked me how I was getting on with her, to which I replied: 'fine, she seems to have loads of mates, shes allways on the phone to them' to which there was a long pause, and the landlord calmly said 'ahh, there is no phone line in the room' (this being in the days before affordable mobiles). She used to have an imaginary lover in the shower called 'Wayne'. Unfortunately the shower room was directly above my room. She also used to dress in full on heavy winter gear, irrespective of the heat/cold outside causing local shop owners in the heat of summer to visably wince when they saw her. Just before she got sectioned, she and the junkie who lived upstairs (just got back from india, took so much acid that he got into smack to sort his head out) used to have terrible fights outside my door. When she moved out, a skinhead from Crawley moved in 'to avoid the heat'. He was quite quiet, but when I was invited in for a smoke, the first thing I noticed was the handgun on the sofa, to which I quickly agreed that 'no I hadn't seen it either'.

However the neighbour from hell out was the cheeky scouser who suplemented his income support by selling the white, and the brown. I'm 99% certain that him or one of his mates burglarised my room. I was invited in for a smoke at about 3am (well ok, ordered to share my weed with him). What greeted my eyes was a scene from a Chanel 4 docudrama. Him, and his mate were pacing up and down with their shirts off, talking loudly, occasionally stopping for a line of charlie. In the dead centre of the room was a sofa, with a 2 year old sat upon it. Wide awake and bored out of her skull, being completly ignored untill out of sheer boredom she started painting herself with her food. This caused said skaggy scouser's mate (apparently the father) to explode with rage, no physial violence but alot of shouting. A couple of weeks later Mr Scally was taken away by the police, only to re-ermerge a couple of days later. Unfortunately I was the only person to answer the door, he then threatened me with a large knife, so I hid in my room, with my finger hovering over the 9 key on the phone. I came down stairs the next morning to see the door and various bits of pannelling in his room (well the door was open) had been completely stripped.

yeah, lenght girth issues I know
(Wed 31st Aug 2005, 14:05, More)

» Crappy Prizes

Cheese is Christ
In a fit of deli-counter boredom, I entered a competition to win a cheese platter. A couple of days later I got a phone call informing me of my need to collect said cheese platter.

I duely turned up, and was given a plastic tray, with attendant seethrough plastic dome. It was full of every permutation of cheese that the deli counter stocked, all wrapped up in clingfilm. Oh and a cursory bunch of grapes. Unfortunately no claret/port to go with the Stilton, bloody savages.

Unfortunately I had bicycled down there, and started bitching about how the hell was I supposed to get it home. At which point I was soundly ticked off for being such an ingrate, and grudgingly given a very thin black plastic sack.

It was while crossing a large carpark that the bag split, causing all manner of cheeses to distribute themselves around said car park. After collecting them and tieing up the bag again, I set off again.

Unfortunately the bag split again, this time as I was crossing a busy road. Again causing cheese to distribute themselves all over the road. I spent the next 5 minutes deftly dodging traffic to retreive said mercifully unharmed cheeses. I was then informed by a passerby that did I not know that cars were dangerous. After not swearing at her, and pointing out the remaining scattered cheeses, and that I'd just won them, she helped me get the remaining cheeses. I gave her the cambozola by way of thanks.

I lived on cheese for the next 2 weeks.

erm the end.

appologies for lenght, girth, the weather, etc
(Wed 10th Aug 2005, 13:54, More)

» Common

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Being concerned with what is common, and what isn't common is so déclassé.
(Fri 17th Oct 2008, 10:56, More)

» Accidental innuendo

a simple misspelling...
When I was eleven, I once wrote a science essay on the 'first orgasms on earth'. I couldn't work out why the teacher was laughing so much.

Ahh the joys of dyslexia...
(Fri 13th Jun 2008, 11:03, More)

» My sex misconceptions

and now for the science bit
During the first year of GCSE combined science we were doing a module on 'human reproduction'. All falopian this, testes that, and 'stop sniggering at that back' the other. But anyhoo I digress, at the end of this module, the teacher said rather nonchallantly 'oh you've got a practical next week'.

For some reasons while the boys in the class, were excited and enthused by this news, a wave of fear and worry decended upon the girls, like a poetic metaphor written by a tortured teenage poet in late autumn.

Imagine my disappointment when it actually turned out to be growing bacteria in milk. Something I'd perfect during my student days, so I guess it wasn't completely useless.
(Tue 30th Sep 2008, 10:30, More)
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