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» My sex misconceptions
Pubes
Picture the scene. It was a long hot summer in Wiltshire, 1985... Live Aid was on the telly and, filled with ideas of saving the world, I ran round to my mate Chris's house. Instead of giving food to some Ethiopians etc, we decided to climb the big local tree with the local bully/wanker known as Andrew Ainsley. Me and Chris were eight years old at the time. Andrew Ainsley was nine.
We got to the top of the tree, and then, apropos of nothing much in particular, Andrew Ainsley looked at me and asked whether I knew if the hair around my willie was pubic or astronomical.
Astounded at his use of language, I was immediately stumped. And a little hesitant in answering. To be honest, I didn't have any hair around my willie and sensed a bit of a ribbing if I got the answer wrong. Or maybe even if I got it right. So I thought long. And I thought hard. And then I looked at Chris who just looked back at me and shrugged.
"Mmmm..." I paused - stalling for time. "I'd have to say... Astronomical?"
"ASTRONOMICAL!! You fucking dickhead!" shouted Ainsley, belying the innocence of his nine years.
He gurgled with giddy pleasure and at that very moment fell out of the tree, smashing his knee on this ground, yelping with pain. He crawled away, continuing to laugh and as snot bubbles of pleasure and pain addled his mixed up brain. And then for some reason, even though he clearly had no idea what the fuck any of us were talking about, Chris started to laugh and asked me why I had astronomical hair around my willie. I had no idea and so did what any sensible 8 year old would do, and started to cry.
Chris jumped from the tree and hauled Ainsley to his feet. The two of them skipped off singing about how I had astronomical willie hair and I ran home. It was a terrible end to the day.
I am now 31 and it is 23 years later. When I think about it, I realise I do actually have really long pubes. Probably longer than the average man too. But I wouldn't say astronomical.
So maybe Andrew Ainsley was on to something all those many years ago... He didn't have to be such a cunt about it though.
Cheers - first post and all. **POP**
(Tue 30th Sep 2008, 23:33, More)
Pubes
Picture the scene. It was a long hot summer in Wiltshire, 1985... Live Aid was on the telly and, filled with ideas of saving the world, I ran round to my mate Chris's house. Instead of giving food to some Ethiopians etc, we decided to climb the big local tree with the local bully/wanker known as Andrew Ainsley. Me and Chris were eight years old at the time. Andrew Ainsley was nine.
We got to the top of the tree, and then, apropos of nothing much in particular, Andrew Ainsley looked at me and asked whether I knew if the hair around my willie was pubic or astronomical.
Astounded at his use of language, I was immediately stumped. And a little hesitant in answering. To be honest, I didn't have any hair around my willie and sensed a bit of a ribbing if I got the answer wrong. Or maybe even if I got it right. So I thought long. And I thought hard. And then I looked at Chris who just looked back at me and shrugged.
"Mmmm..." I paused - stalling for time. "I'd have to say... Astronomical?"
"ASTRONOMICAL!! You fucking dickhead!" shouted Ainsley, belying the innocence of his nine years.
He gurgled with giddy pleasure and at that very moment fell out of the tree, smashing his knee on this ground, yelping with pain. He crawled away, continuing to laugh and as snot bubbles of pleasure and pain addled his mixed up brain. And then for some reason, even though he clearly had no idea what the fuck any of us were talking about, Chris started to laugh and asked me why I had astronomical hair around my willie. I had no idea and so did what any sensible 8 year old would do, and started to cry.
Chris jumped from the tree and hauled Ainsley to his feet. The two of them skipped off singing about how I had astronomical willie hair and I ran home. It was a terrible end to the day.
I am now 31 and it is 23 years later. When I think about it, I realise I do actually have really long pubes. Probably longer than the average man too. But I wouldn't say astronomical.
So maybe Andrew Ainsley was on to something all those many years ago... He didn't have to be such a cunt about it though.
Cheers - first post and all. **POP**
(Tue 30th Sep 2008, 23:33, More)
» Real-life slapstick
Stevie Wonder
My mate sent me a jpeg on email at work. It was of a smiling Stevie Wonder wearing a t-shirt, emblazoned with the words "I am a cunt". I thought it was quite funny - but being fairly new at work I din't want to get into any sort of bother by forwarding it on. So I printed it out instead and showed my workmates down the pub that night. They, like me, also found much mirth in the said picture of old Stevie.
Fast forward a couple of weeks. I was walking down the street with my wife and rummaging around in my pockets for god knows what. I come across this piece of paper, open it up and realise it's only the picture of Stevie Wonder that I must have stuffed into my jeans and completely forgotten about. I took another look and started to giggle. Yup - still as funny as before.
My wife leans over and asks me what I'm laughing at.
"You won't like it," I tell her, guffawing away. Quick as a flash she grabs it off me and looks at the picture of our hero, Mr Wonder. She doesn't smile - not once. She just tuts, shakes her head and hands it back to me.
"I'm just really disappointed you find things like that funny, you know. You shouldn't laugh at the blind," she tells me very seriously.
This makes me start laughing even more. So much in fact, that I sort of double-over laughing as I'm walking along, and continue to "ha ha" my way down the street. It's only after about 5 yards of more hee-heeing that I straighten up and ***SMASH** walk fully into a lamppost, knocking myself over and out for a few seconds.
As I come to, the picture of Stevie is flapping about in the wind like a mysterious omen, my wife is now doubled-over laughing herself, and some strangers are pointing at me from the other side of the street with tears running down their faces.
Stevie had it wrong. Clearly, I was the cunt that day. And I haven't laughed at him since*
*may not be entirely true
(Mon 25th Jan 2010, 3:34, More)
Stevie Wonder
My mate sent me a jpeg on email at work. It was of a smiling Stevie Wonder wearing a t-shirt, emblazoned with the words "I am a cunt". I thought it was quite funny - but being fairly new at work I din't want to get into any sort of bother by forwarding it on. So I printed it out instead and showed my workmates down the pub that night. They, like me, also found much mirth in the said picture of old Stevie.
Fast forward a couple of weeks. I was walking down the street with my wife and rummaging around in my pockets for god knows what. I come across this piece of paper, open it up and realise it's only the picture of Stevie Wonder that I must have stuffed into my jeans and completely forgotten about. I took another look and started to giggle. Yup - still as funny as before.
My wife leans over and asks me what I'm laughing at.
"You won't like it," I tell her, guffawing away. Quick as a flash she grabs it off me and looks at the picture of our hero, Mr Wonder. She doesn't smile - not once. She just tuts, shakes her head and hands it back to me.
"I'm just really disappointed you find things like that funny, you know. You shouldn't laugh at the blind," she tells me very seriously.
This makes me start laughing even more. So much in fact, that I sort of double-over laughing as I'm walking along, and continue to "ha ha" my way down the street. It's only after about 5 yards of more hee-heeing that I straighten up and ***SMASH** walk fully into a lamppost, knocking myself over and out for a few seconds.
As I come to, the picture of Stevie is flapping about in the wind like a mysterious omen, my wife is now doubled-over laughing herself, and some strangers are pointing at me from the other side of the street with tears running down their faces.
Stevie had it wrong. Clearly, I was the cunt that day. And I haven't laughed at him since*
*may not be entirely true
(Mon 25th Jan 2010, 3:34, More)
» Cringe!
Children's party game
I was about 13. It would have been my little sister's eight birthday party. Lots of young girls, being all hyper on jelly and e-numbers. Good times.
We were playing that game where you make up a story with a partner, but you can only say one word at a time, and then your partner says the next word. Geddit? It's pretty fucking simple.
So it's my turn to play. With my mum. It goes like this:
Me: I.
Mum: WENT.
Me: TO.
Mum: THE.
Me: DENTIST.
Mum: TO.
Me: HAVE.
Mum: MY.
Me: TESTICLES... eh?
Oh good Christ. I didn’t mean to say that at all and froze to the spot. Why did I say testicles? I meant TONSILS. Sort of sounds the same. In a way. And why would I go to the dentist to get tonsils taken out anyway? My pubescent brain was so utterly confused.
Very sharply I turned a bright shade of beetroot red as lots of 8 year old girls stopped and looked at me blankly. My mum just looked disappointed for bringing the game into such disrepute.
It was then that Nancy Cole burst out laughing.
And as Nancy was almost thumping the floor with laughter convulsions, my sister – on behalf of most of her young friends I imagine - asked her what "testicles" were.
"I don't know!" Nancy replied.
And suddenly my day brightened. I vowed not to play any more silly games and decided instead to nick off for a big wank and play with my nice hairy tonsils.
(Wed 3rd Dec 2008, 7:28, More)
Children's party game
I was about 13. It would have been my little sister's eight birthday party. Lots of young girls, being all hyper on jelly and e-numbers. Good times.
We were playing that game where you make up a story with a partner, but you can only say one word at a time, and then your partner says the next word. Geddit? It's pretty fucking simple.
So it's my turn to play. With my mum. It goes like this:
Me: I.
Mum: WENT.
Me: TO.
Mum: THE.
Me: DENTIST.
Mum: TO.
Me: HAVE.
Mum: MY.
Me: TESTICLES... eh?
Oh good Christ. I didn’t mean to say that at all and froze to the spot. Why did I say testicles? I meant TONSILS. Sort of sounds the same. In a way. And why would I go to the dentist to get tonsils taken out anyway? My pubescent brain was so utterly confused.
Very sharply I turned a bright shade of beetroot red as lots of 8 year old girls stopped and looked at me blankly. My mum just looked disappointed for bringing the game into such disrepute.
It was then that Nancy Cole burst out laughing.
And as Nancy was almost thumping the floor with laughter convulsions, my sister – on behalf of most of her young friends I imagine - asked her what "testicles" were.
"I don't know!" Nancy replied.
And suddenly my day brightened. I vowed not to play any more silly games and decided instead to nick off for a big wank and play with my nice hairy tonsils.
(Wed 3rd Dec 2008, 7:28, More)
» Workplace Boredom
Top trumps
Dave-o, Stupot and myself needed a creative outlet at work for our many talents. We'd played Brain of Britain to the Nth degree (always shit at it), gone hours on the Chopper.swf application (fucking HOURS) but it eventually came to the point where we needed something new.
We settled upon top trumps. Except we made these beauties up. And they consisted of us rating all our co-workers. Looking back, it was a rather silly thing to do, but seemed to make sense at the time.
Categories included: Fuckability, looks, sense of humour, smoking skills, and general work ability.
Our boss eventually found them. Being the lowest card, he wasn't all that impressed.
(Fri 9th Jan 2009, 4:24, More)
Top trumps
Dave-o, Stupot and myself needed a creative outlet at work for our many talents. We'd played Brain of Britain to the Nth degree (always shit at it), gone hours on the Chopper.swf application (fucking HOURS) but it eventually came to the point where we needed something new.
We settled upon top trumps. Except we made these beauties up. And they consisted of us rating all our co-workers. Looking back, it was a rather silly thing to do, but seemed to make sense at the time.
Categories included: Fuckability, looks, sense of humour, smoking skills, and general work ability.
Our boss eventually found them. Being the lowest card, he wasn't all that impressed.
(Fri 9th Jan 2009, 4:24, More)
» Best and worst TV ads
Kia Ora
I grew up in England and moved to Melbourne a few years back. Mate of mine did the same thing and now he lives in Ferntree Gully on a street called Kia Ora Avenue. I love going to see him cos every time I turn onto his street I think how great it would be to be his dog...
www.youtube.com/watch?v=5LvLn9PWln8
(Sat 17th Apr 2010, 13:40, More)
Kia Ora
I grew up in England and moved to Melbourne a few years back. Mate of mine did the same thing and now he lives in Ferntree Gully on a street called Kia Ora Avenue. I love going to see him cos every time I turn onto his street I think how great it would be to be his dog...
www.youtube.com/watch?v=5LvLn9PWln8
(Sat 17th Apr 2010, 13:40, More)