» Have you ever paid for sex?

Of course
It cost thirty pounds, I gave her a fifty pound note, which reminds me, can you ask your Mum to give me my twenty pounds back.

p.s.
she was rubbish ... your Dad was better ... and cheaper ... and didn't cry ... much.
(Thu 19th Jan 2006, 13:18, More)

» Fancy Dress

How can THAT win it?
My mum could handle a sewing machine with a lightness of touch which would have pleased the Gods. I was used to winning, it was in the blood.
First year it was a dog, simple but so very beautiful. The competition was beaten before I took to the stage, they knew it, I knew it. Eat my dog.

Next year it was Daffy Duck, yes you heard, Daffy effing Duck in your face losers, I win, easy, EASY, EASY.

Can you imagine the pride I felt when I took to the stage in my exact replica E.T costume. It was the sort of pride that Nelson must have felt when taking his fleet to battle, unbeatable that’s what I was. One of England’s greatest heroes. Three years on the trot, I’d retire after this, go on the interview circuit, write my memoirs. The school’s greatest ever fancy dresser, they’d name buildings after me. I stepped onto stage and drew gasps from the crowd, I even heard gentle sobbing from the front row, probably. That’s it, I’d done it the room nearly rippled with anticipation. Now, surely all that were left were formalities … until she showed up. Struggling up the steps she came like some drunken mongoloid, one box, no arm holes and the crappiest paint job since Rolf embarrassed the queen. A rubik’s fucking cube which could only have been painted by Joey Deacon, my twin brother could have done better and I don’t even have a twin brother. I suppose it goes without saying that the greatest travesty of justice then occurred, she took the book token and with it spilt my milk of human kindness. My only saving grace was that my full face mask, with the uncanny ET likeness, captured my tears (in my mother’s used tights)

Next year my sister won as Princess Leia, it was a hollow return to form. Too late to rescue me from a lifetime of hatred.

And to this day I still hate you, I hate you all, just go, leave me alone you bastards.
(Fri 13th Jan 2006, 16:44, More)

» Urban Legends

Dad Facts
My dad reckons that if you tie a scarf round your head it indicates that you are a baptized Seikh. Is this true or is it just another turban legend ?
(Fri 6th Jan 2006, 14:08, More)

» It's not me, it's the drugs talking

All the fun of the fair.
Best: lying in a garden with a mate who was tripping on a purple heart during an intense electrical storm. He kept on at me that his hallucinations were like wild lightning, unaware that the skies were filled with wild lightning. He wouldn't shut up, I, being lightly stoned on weed just giggled the night away. I went to bed leaving him to his come down, I awoke the next day to find an arm chair full of bread which he had liberated from the local Spar. It was my best ever acid free trip.

Worst:Whilst sailing on the good ship Microdot receiving a phone call from a girl who made me weak at the knees. After being passed the phone I proceded to freak out, I could hear someone speaking my name but I couldn't see them. How did they know who I was? To solve the problem I yelled abuse down the phone and smashed it against the wall. Needless to say, I never got my hands on her norks.

p.s.
whilst on acid I swear you can hear coffee granules chat, go on, try it, you know you want to.
(Thu 15th Dec 2005, 16:56, More)

» Misunderstood

Sign of the times
In British Sign Language, rather than having to spell your name you can choose a sign name, something about you which is easy for your friends to remember.
The whole class had to chose and they mostly chose references to their appearance (one person chose the sign mouse even though they were the size of a whale). When it came to my turn the gesture I chose was to circle my head, which I thought would make reference to my abnormally sized head.
My teacher started to laugh her tits off, slowly followed by the whole class except for me, I just went red. When she had calmed down, it became apparent I hadn't chosen the name 'big head' but instead chosen the name 'handsome' and what with my big head I am not overly blessed in that area. I spent the rest of the course breaking out into cold sweats whenever I had to sign.
At the end of the course I failed my exam whilst translating a story about a mother sending her son out to pick up some bread. I misunderstood and translated a story of a boy who went skiing to buy some ciggies and a milkshake.

I had the last laugh though even though I cannot sign, I can hear perfectly well.
(Wed 12th Oct 2005, 16:31, More)