» Secret Santa

OOoh... Aaaahhh....
My Gran is hard of hearing.

Last christmas my uncle bought her a pair of "Sexy Slippers" that made sex noises when you walk. They looked normal, so my Gran was slightly confused why people kept laughing whenever she walked around or entered a room.

"Isn't everyone having a jolly christmas!?"
"Er... yeah Gran it's pfffffft... great."
(Fri 15th Dec 2006, 12:32, More)

» Secret Santa

My ex flatmate...
Someone decided my flatmate would receive a fake vagina as his present, but due to the secret santa price limit they had diffuculty finding a suitable one.

They improvised.

He received a melon (with a hole cut in it, above which a picture of a lady from a porn mag with her legs akimbo had been glued). It had a big ribbon and bow round it and ooh la la Melony painted on the back in tippex.

Melony died a tragic, lonely death in the upstairs toilet sink. By the time we decided to give her a proper burial she was nothing more than a mouldy melonskin full of rotting mush and fruit flies. She smelt so bad it made flatmate puke even though he was wearing a teatowel covered in vicks over his face.

She's reputed to have died a virgin, but I question my flatmates honesty on this matter.

RIP Melony
(Fri 15th Dec 2006, 13:33, More)

» Rock and Roll Stories

I used to want to be a DJ (sorry).
I went through a phase of leaving a box of records in the boot of my car on the chance of a party.

Some mates and I went out clubbing as usual and got wind of a massive house party. When we turned up it was manic, the old turn of the century house was packed full of everyone from town that wanted to party past 2am. You could hardly move in the place it was so busy.

I mananged to get a slot, had quite good fun playing records and afterwards retired to the kitchen where the intoxicants of the previous couple of hours really began to kick in. I pulled a major whitey and knew puking was iminent. Due to the density of people, the toilet was out of the question. So I started to puke out of the window.

Which was directly above the front door to the house.

Needless to say I wasn't popular.

I carried on being very pale, sweating, feeling sick and generally not to well for a couple of hours when a guy came up to me:
"you were Djing earlier"
"Uhh... yeah"
"you've got to do some more"
"No chance mate, look at me, I'm on a big fat whitey, I even puked on some people out the window"
"You think that's bad, I've got to go to work in an hour, I'm a postman"
"Oh"

So back I went to the decks, covered in vom, shaking, white as a sheet, sweating like a rapist and played some more records.

I knew it was time to leave when I saw a girl with a big puke stain running from her shoulder to her waist point at me and say something to her big bastard boyfriend. He started making his way towards me with an "I'm going to sort you out" look in his eye. I made as if I was going to get a record out my box, but instead packed up (leaving a record playing) and cralwed out of the room pushing my record box in front of me. I legged it from the house in such haste I slipped on my puke and banged my coccyx on the way out.

The pain made me puke some more.

I run away from confrontation
I can't handle my drugs
Pain makes me puke

Very rock and roll, me.
(Fri 30th Jun 2006, 13:41, More)

» Puns

Kids With Puns
I was trying to explain to my neices (8 and 5) how jokes work (because "why did the teapot need a wee... because it had tea in it!" isn't funny).

So I explained about puns and punchlines and illustrated my explanation with the pun based classic:

Why did the baker have brown hands?
Because he kneaded a poo!

Needless to say they found it funny (might have been solely because of the word poo being used). And all was good...

...until the last comic releif.

The kids had a school assembly and each child (in front of teachers, classmates and parents) has to get up and tell a joke. So one of my neices gets up and tells the baker/poo joke.

Apparently it's not acceptable for 8 year olds to use the word poo in a school assembly.

I'm not allowed to tell my neices jokes any more, even though it could have been so much worse...

I was walking in a cemetery this morning and seen a bloke hiding behind a gravestone. I said "Morning."
He replied, "No, just having a shit."
(Thu 5th Mar 2009, 16:54, More)

» Well, that taught 'em

Cuppa tea mum?
Whilst I was busy being a moody, inconsiderate nightmare of a teenager my mum had ongoing problems with her knees.

She started taking painkillers for them, but these really monged her out, which she didn't like as she's a busy run around kind of person. She decided to stop taking them, and deal with the pain. I can't really blame her, but she turned into a megabitch overnight. Something had to be done.

After a couple of days of putting up with mum it all got too much (my sister agreed). So I made her a tea. A Ralph's special tea.

About half an hour after drinking it my sister comes and tells me to go and look at what mum's doing.

I find her hiding in the porch humming the dambusters theme tune and occasionally jumping out the door (as she does the dambusters theme gets louder) to throw conkers (of which she has a handfull) at my dad who is on his way back from church. She's blatantly off her tits and intermittently giggling like a loon between dambuster crescendo/conker launching.

That eveing she lightened up alot, she was back to her chatty self, enjoying life and had a great nights sleep for the first time in ages. I kept quiet about what I'd done.

A couple of months ago I was at my folks house, when my mum said she'd quite like to try some pot (it was in context at the time, not just some random outburst).

"Well er... actually mum, you have."

I told her the story above, and her response?

"Well at least I can say I've tried it"

WTF! Who is she going to tell?!?!?

I live in fear of the womens institute turning up one night and asking for special tea.

[Obligatory length apology here]
(Fri 27th Apr 2007, 14:16, More)