» Desperate Times

Lego
The lowest I sunk during my early teenage years was an attempt to build a wanking machine out of lego.

This was long before I had the slightest chance of experiencing a woman's touch, yet I was desperate to fulfil that need.

It was an ultimately unsuccessful, but nonetheless interesting, engineering challenge. A number of years later I achieved a noble B in GCSE design and technology for a poorly realised carrying case. I should think that a working wanking machine would have been well worth an A.

Fortunately, in hindsight, I didn't have any Meccano...
(Fri 16th Nov 2007, 1:10, More)

» Customers from Hell

Difficult Cuntstomers.
Once worked for a McDonalds. Like several umpty billion other students. Anyway, during one of my last shifts for the fucking awful place, about 10pm(ish) some woman wanders up to my till and asks for something which involves fries. Can't for the life of me remember what else she wanted although I do recall the miserable bitch was quite fuckable, but she had clearly had a shit day and was looking to take it out on someone. Cue, your's truly.

Anyway, I assembled her meal and upon asking for payment she claimed that I had handled her bloody fries with my fingers. Now (a) there is a perfectly servicable fry scoop for sticking their manky chips into a bag and (b) well, there is no (b) because (a) is such a bloody good argument. I made this point, she had none of it, and being quite a nice person I decided to cook her a nice fresh load of fries and made a deliberate show in front of her of scooping up her fries without a single bit of soya and shite ever approaching my fingers.

Well, once again and now spectacularly unbelievably she claimed I had man-handled her sodding chips into the bag. So, I asked the manager to deal with her and fucked off.

So, awkward fucking woman in McDonalds, L/Spa about 11 years ago... I am now a NASA astrophysicist, and you are probably still a difficult cow moaning about a bag of shitty chips in your local chav eatery. Fuck you and fuck off, etc.
(Fri 5th Sep 2008, 3:04, More)

» Food sabotage

Party games
Not one of mine, however...

One of my mates told me about some aquaintances at his old uni who used to liven up house parties by playing an amusing little game they liked to call 'hide the poo'.

As the name suggests one would avail themselves of the host's facilities, or possibly bring along one they had sculpted earlier, and then use all of their creativity, ingenuity and cunning to hide their log somewhere about the house.

The rules: the owner of the last poo to be discovered is the winner.

Usually they were found in pretty short order as the participants were always pissed and put them in crap hiding places (pun indeed intended). Anyway, part of the fun(?) was that they were supposed to be found during the party. Ideally by the unsuspecting.

At the end of one party, however, a single poo lay undiscovered and remained so for several days.

When pressed as to where he had concealed it the lad would not say, but it's hiding place was eventually revealed...

In a fit of genius he had lifted a tub of margarine from the fridge, emptied it out and placed his offering inside, put the margarine on top and returned the tub to the fridge.

It took several mornings of toast for breakfast before before the final poo was discovered!
(Mon 22nd Sep 2008, 12:14, More)

» Family Holidays

Caravanning woe
We always went on camping holidays when I was a kid. Usually somewhere wet, like Wales or the Lake District or anywhere else in Great Britan in the summer. After one too many 'holidays' with only a tent to shelter us from the monsoon raging outside and having to swim to the shower block, my folks decided to upgrade to a caravan.... Unfortunately, they insisted on towing with a succession of woefully underpowered cars, culminating in our final caravanning holiday when the 'Tard family heap conked out halfway up a very steep hill somewhere in Wales.

Imagine the situation, if you will; a narrow mountain road, a precipice falling away to unseen depths on our left and a mighty wall of rock to our right, the four 'Tards (not a bad name for a band, actually) and our vehicle, stranded, and a queue of impatient and angry traffic starting to form behind.

After a bit of a rant and a swear, Dad had a bright idea; he would unhook the caravan and single-handedly manoeuvre it into the convenient layby a few yards back down the hill. However, he had obviously underestimated the power of gravity in Wales, because when the brake on the caravan was released it promptly took off down the hill faster than a tour de France winner being chased by a drugs tester, with poor old Dad a helpless hanger-on! Fortunately, he managed to slam on the brake mere metres from the edge of the cliff, before the caravan (and he) disappeared over the edge.

In the end he turned the caravan around, towed it back down the hill, found another way to the campsite and discovered it was on the top of yet another hill that the car didn't have a hope of climbing.

Many, many hours later we found somewhere to stay and, in total, it took over 11 hours to travel from our home in the Midlands to a grotty campsite somewhere in Wales. You can fly from London to LA in 11 hours ffs!!

Thankfully, after that, they gave up, sold the caravan (and the car!) and started going abroad.

Length? Hmmm.... About 15 years worth of holidays times 3 weeks a pop equals 45 weeks of misery under canvas. Correcting for rain-induced time dilation equals about 1000 years!
(Tue 7th Aug 2007, 21:12, More)

» School Projects

Brekky
Our home economics teacher told us to think of a dish to prepare in class the following week. The lesson was at 9am on a Tuesday morning, so while the other groups cooked their interesting and exotic dishes, we sat there having a delicious fry up!
(Fri 14th Aug 2009, 16:41, More)