Profile for That Boy Joe:
Not quite sure what to write here. I am 5 and a half foot in height, made of a pinkish-greyish spongy matter, frontal features not entirely displeasing.
There.
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- a member for 18 years, 5 months and 21 days
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Not quite sure what to write here. I am 5 and a half foot in height, made of a pinkish-greyish spongy matter, frontal features not entirely displeasing.
There.
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
» Your Weirdest Teacher
Oooh, just remembered....
Alan, my A level history teacher, would march into class in big black boots and a long black coat, getting worryingly excited about the history of 20th century Germany.
One day he apologised, claiming: "I'll be a lot less excitable once I get this brain tumor removed". You could have heard a gnat fart.
Calmed down a lot after that. One of the best teachers I've ever had.
(Wed 16th Nov 2005, 11:12, More)
Oooh, just remembered....
Alan, my A level history teacher, would march into class in big black boots and a long black coat, getting worryingly excited about the history of 20th century Germany.
One day he apologised, claiming: "I'll be a lot less excitable once I get this brain tumor removed". You could have heard a gnat fart.
Calmed down a lot after that. One of the best teachers I've ever had.
(Wed 16th Nov 2005, 11:12, More)
» Shame
2 late entries.....
...there are too many blokes embarressing themselves here, so I remembered stories of two of my girlfriend's friends....
1. Friend #1 went out, pulled bloke, went back to his flat, did stuff in bed. Bloke goes to work in the morning, girl feels the need to pinch one out.
Goes to toilet. Pinches one out. Toilet either won't flush or the bastard just won't drown, I can't remember which.
Girl scoops out said turds, fully intending to put them in outside bin, out of embarresment's way. About to leave the flat, bag of poo in hand, she writes a quick note thanking lovely bloke for a lovely night, and leaves it by the front door. Closes door. Puts spare key through letter box. Realises she's left the bag of poo on the floor next to the note.
2. Friend #2 was training in forensics. In a lesson, everyone's told to take a swab from their own mouths and look at the DNA under a microscope, or whatever it is forensics do. She swabs, she looks, and she sees something she doesn't recognise. Calls tutor over. "That, my dear, is a sperm".
Oh, the shame.
(Thu 1st Dec 2005, 10:02, More)
2 late entries.....
...there are too many blokes embarressing themselves here, so I remembered stories of two of my girlfriend's friends....
1. Friend #1 went out, pulled bloke, went back to his flat, did stuff in bed. Bloke goes to work in the morning, girl feels the need to pinch one out.
Goes to toilet. Pinches one out. Toilet either won't flush or the bastard just won't drown, I can't remember which.
Girl scoops out said turds, fully intending to put them in outside bin, out of embarresment's way. About to leave the flat, bag of poo in hand, she writes a quick note thanking lovely bloke for a lovely night, and leaves it by the front door. Closes door. Puts spare key through letter box. Realises she's left the bag of poo on the floor next to the note.
2. Friend #2 was training in forensics. In a lesson, everyone's told to take a swab from their own mouths and look at the DNA under a microscope, or whatever it is forensics do. She swabs, she looks, and she sees something she doesn't recognise. Calls tutor over. "That, my dear, is a sperm".
Oh, the shame.
(Thu 1st Dec 2005, 10:02, More)
» Your Weirdest Teacher
Piano Man
We tortured all our secondary school teachers - we got our first one fired, our second one developed diabetes and the third died of alcoholism. In 4 years! Thats pretty good going.
None got it as bad as The Lurch, and strange Frankensteinian cross between a young Patrick Moore and.... well, and Frankenstein. A mad glazed stare pierced the room from under massive black perma-cocked eyebrows.
And we tortured the FUCK out of him. Throwing keyboards around playing 'Reggae Demo Number 2' at bowel-emptying volumes... we were evil incarnate.
When the lesson reached this chaotic frenzied peak of what we thought was unbridled creativity (but what the police would call wanton terrorism) he sat behind his piano, staring at the ceiling, playing some classical piece, probably repeating some calming mantra that his therapist taught him under his breath.
Then I saw him a few weeks ago busking at Angel tube station. He plays the violin. Look out for him - thats The Lurch.
And boy did I ever feel guilty. I almost went and apologised.
(Thu 10th Nov 2005, 17:14, More)
Piano Man
We tortured all our secondary school teachers - we got our first one fired, our second one developed diabetes and the third died of alcoholism. In 4 years! Thats pretty good going.
None got it as bad as The Lurch, and strange Frankensteinian cross between a young Patrick Moore and.... well, and Frankenstein. A mad glazed stare pierced the room from under massive black perma-cocked eyebrows.
And we tortured the FUCK out of him. Throwing keyboards around playing 'Reggae Demo Number 2' at bowel-emptying volumes... we were evil incarnate.
When the lesson reached this chaotic frenzied peak of what we thought was unbridled creativity (but what the police would call wanton terrorism) he sat behind his piano, staring at the ceiling, playing some classical piece, probably repeating some calming mantra that his therapist taught him under his breath.
Then I saw him a few weeks ago busking at Angel tube station. He plays the violin. Look out for him - thats The Lurch.
And boy did I ever feel guilty. I almost went and apologised.
(Thu 10th Nov 2005, 17:14, More)
» Shame
Regrets, I've had a few...
...but then again so fucking many that I'll be here all day if I write them all down.
For example, I lost my virginity on a building site (and no, before you ask, I wasn't buggered by a builder).
The night that really sticks in my mind was when me and my flatmate Chris downed an enormous bottle of cheap-as-chips French vodka before heading off to Fabric (a large meat-market-ish 'superclub' in London, for those lucky enough never to have heard of it).
We were in, watching David Holmes do his 60s psycadelic (?? Spelling) thang, had a smoke and both, in unison, staggered back and slumped against the wall, then down onto the ground.
The next 6 hours proceeded like this: my flat mate sat cross-legged on the dance floor, shaking, sweating, and farting like its going out of fashion, clearing a space around him about 10' in diameter.
I proceeded to be sick in every available bin, corner, stairwell, coat and bag I could lay my hands on. The one exception was when I stood behind a girl with an open-backed dress (a cute girl with a very cute back, if there is such a thing) and had to swallow my sick again, knowing that if I was sick down her back, I could never show my face in public again.
We ended up passing out next to each other on the sofas upstairs, although we didn't know who the other person was til we pieced everything back together again the next morning.
It had a happy ending though. I was kicked out and proceeded to spend £27 on sandwiches to fill my by now very empty stomach. And I do love a good sandwich.
(Fri 25th Nov 2005, 10:33, More)
Regrets, I've had a few...
...but then again so fucking many that I'll be here all day if I write them all down.
For example, I lost my virginity on a building site (and no, before you ask, I wasn't buggered by a builder).
The night that really sticks in my mind was when me and my flatmate Chris downed an enormous bottle of cheap-as-chips French vodka before heading off to Fabric (a large meat-market-ish 'superclub' in London, for those lucky enough never to have heard of it).
We were in, watching David Holmes do his 60s psycadelic (?? Spelling) thang, had a smoke and both, in unison, staggered back and slumped against the wall, then down onto the ground.
The next 6 hours proceeded like this: my flat mate sat cross-legged on the dance floor, shaking, sweating, and farting like its going out of fashion, clearing a space around him about 10' in diameter.
I proceeded to be sick in every available bin, corner, stairwell, coat and bag I could lay my hands on. The one exception was when I stood behind a girl with an open-backed dress (a cute girl with a very cute back, if there is such a thing) and had to swallow my sick again, knowing that if I was sick down her back, I could never show my face in public again.
We ended up passing out next to each other on the sofas upstairs, although we didn't know who the other person was til we pieced everything back together again the next morning.
It had a happy ending though. I was kicked out and proceeded to spend £27 on sandwiches to fill my by now very empty stomach. And I do love a good sandwich.
(Fri 25th Nov 2005, 10:33, More)
» Cheating cheaty cheats
Minty Hit
I shit you not. I haven't had much of a rock n roll life, but the most exciting/stupidist stuff I've ever done was all crammed into the one year spanning the GSCEs/sixform cross over.
I have very little memory of this time, and rely on the information of other, more sensible people.
My life has been very boring in the 7 years since then.
(Wed 23rd Nov 2005, 16:50, More)
Minty Hit
I shit you not. I haven't had much of a rock n roll life, but the most exciting/stupidist stuff I've ever done was all crammed into the one year spanning the GSCEs/sixform cross over.
I have very little memory of this time, and rely on the information of other, more sensible people.
My life has been very boring in the 7 years since then.
(Wed 23rd Nov 2005, 16:50, More)