» Pointless Experiments

Scat cat
Question: What will happen if I swing my grandparents cat by its back legs?

Answer: I will get covered in shit.
(Thu 24th Jul 2008, 14:58, More)

» Get Rich Quick

Glastonbollox
Part 1 - Nice one matey!

Back in the day or 1993 if you prefer, my mate Erad had an old ambulance. A plan was hatched to get into the Glastonbury festival which involved:
tarting up said ambulance
a flashing blue light for the roof
siren noises
ambulance driver uniforms

So the ambulance was cleaned and buffed with T-Cut, windows blacked out, new go faster stripes applied. Magnetic flashing blue light was purchased from industrial suppliers. Speaker was placed under bonnet and wired to £1 special effects key-ring. Blue caps and pullovers were purchased from same industrial suppliers.

We were ready to go but how does this relate to money making? That was in the form of a massive stack of crates of the most piss-weak lager known to man purchased from Netto for the princely sum of 25p per can.

Worked like a dream, two in uniform in the front, another 5 hidden in the back. We drove in through the exit, light flashing, siren sounding pretty iffy but who's to question it? Security just waved us through. Found a nice quiet spot obscurred by some big traveller buses and the selling of the wank-beer could begin.

Sold out in no time, had to put the price up from £1 per can to £1.50. I remember one chap asking "is it any good?". "No it's piss" I replied. "I'll have 4 please" said he.

Great weekend spending our ill-gotten gains.

Part 2 - Bastards!

Tried the same trick again next year but made the mistake parking in an area that had to be cleared to erect a stage. Thrown out. Beer confiscated. Ambulance impounded costing £150 to get out which we didn't have so I phoned my girlfriend and her dad paid it, the shame.

The police interrogation was quite a laugh, lots of daft questions like "do you turn up at the scenes of accidents?". Yeah we're necrophilliacs. The Chief Super or whatever he was called said "If I see you again this weekend I'm going to shove you right up my arse", some West Country custom? "Can I have that in writing" I said. He went a slightly more purple shade of purple.

Happy daze.
(Thu 31st Jul 2008, 19:09, More)

» Celebrities part II

I used to live near Rod Hull
One day, I was walking the dog past his house and I saw that Rod was up on his roof. He appeared to be fixing his TV aerial. I shouted "Oi! Rod" and waved. He just disappeared down the other side of the roof, didn't wave or anything. Miserable bastard.
(Fri 9th Oct 2009, 16:57, More)

» Unemployed

Thankyou helpful bloke with beard
Don't know your name, sorry.

I put down on my jobseeker form that I was interested in accounting and computer programming roles even though I'd never had any sort of job since saturdays at Tesco when I was in the Sixth Form.

I enrolled on a book-keeping evening course at the local college but those few weeks convinced me that accounting wasn't for me so IT it was then.

When I went to sign on, I asked woman with an attitude whether there were any computer programming courses I could go on. "We don't do anything like that" she said in her condescending tone.

A few weeks later I signed on at helpful bloke with beard's desk. He looked at my notes and said "I see you're interested in computer programming, we offer a course in C++, would you like to go on it?".

So for 16 weeks I travelled to Cambridge most days. Couldn't afford every day as £35 per week Income Support plus the extra £10 they gave me for attending the course didn't leave much change after the £7 per day rail fair. I did complete the course though and thoroughly deserved my NVQ4 in C++ programming.

This enabled me to get my first proper job as a Junior Developer and has put me on a path of ever increasing salaries and eventually contracting. I now find myself sat at home for a few weeks between contracts with a pile of dosh in my business account, playing games and reading B3ta.

So, helpful bloke with beard, thanks for helping me and thanks for giving me a career.

And, woman with an attitude, I can but hope that you are as miserable on the inside as you are on the outside and that you are no longer employed in a role that allows you to fuck up young people's chances of getting the help and encouragemnent that they need.
(Fri 3rd Apr 2009, 13:54, More)

» Public Sex

Wanking did you say?
"The Homecoming"

I was once driving from Nairn (near Inverness) down to Hertfordshire, a journey of over 500 miles and about 10 hours in a crappy old Daihatsu with a top speed of 85mph. I'd listened to some tapes, listened to the radio, I was bored. Very bored. So I decided to have a little tug on the A1 as I was passing through Northumberland.

There wasn't much traffic about, it was quite late, about 9pm and winter so it was pitch black both inside and outside of the car. No one could see what I was up to as I "zoomed" southwards in the fast lane.

It was an OK wank, nothing special but it did the job and before long I withdrew my hand from my underpants. The area from my index finger to my thumb was sticky, I had no tissues or rags to hand so I licked my fingers clean. Wasn't much I could do about the mess in my pants though.

The thing I find about long journeys is it's better to get them over with as quickly as possible. I'd made this journey a few times and never stopped for a break. If I stopped, I didn't want to start again. I had to keep on going so I lit a post-onanal cigarette, wound down the window, sat back and relaxed.

Have you ever sat in a chair with your own spunk trickling down your arse crack for hours on end? I can confirm that it is not the most pleasant of sensations. Then, as the gloop starts to dry out*, a crust forms which binds your hairs together into a kind of pubic mohawk with your tip peaking out from underneath looking like a toothless one-eyed punk rocker. That's how I sat for the next 250 miles.

When I arrived at my destination thinking "thank fuck that's over", I flung open the car door and jumped out for my first stretch in half a day. "Aaargh! Fuuuck!". I had almost managed to garote my own glans with a pubic cheesewire. Thankfully, upon later inspection, my shaft had proven to be robust and instead I had managed to rip out a sizeable patch of hairs which were stuck fast and sticking out from under my foreskin.

I peeled my jeans from my arse crack and went inside.

*It takes about 3 hours to completely dry if you point the hot air blower in the general direction in case you were wondering.
(Thu 23rd Apr 2009, 14:39, More)