Profile for danniekavanagh:
So you're sniffing around my profile eh?
Well, I'm a bit new to B3ta, well officially anyway as I've been more of a lurker for a couple of years now.
I was originally drawn to b3ta by the games - or 'fun shit' as it's apporopriately named, however, upon further investigation into the site, I've become a regular in the QOTW section where I spend many afternoons at home laughing like a lunatic, whilst my future Mrs Kavanagh, and our children look at me like I should be sectioned under the mental health act.
As for me, when I'm not at home watching my kids whilst Mrs Kavanagh is busy working in the hell-hole she calls 'work' - once the weekend appears, I'm usually found behind one of the many DJ stands that feature in a little-known hamlet in Yorkshire called 'Halifax'*
Here I attempt to continue my trade of 15 years entertaining the masses, and getting free beer, loads of cash and the occasional cigarette for my troubles.
Apart from that, I'm your average geek, who spends way too much time on the internet, usually reading the many stories here on b3ta.
*with exception to that bank place that's now owned by Lloyds..
Recent front page messages:
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Best answers to questions:
[read all their answers]
- a member for 6 months and 10 days
- has posted 2 messages on the main board
- has posted 0 messages on the talk board
- has posted 1 messages on the links board
- has posted 21 stories and 173 replies on question of the week
- They liked 2 pictures, 1 links, 0 talk posts, and 27 qotw answers.
- Ignore this user
- Add this user as a friend
- send me a message
So you're sniffing around my profile eh?
Well, I'm a bit new to B3ta, well officially anyway as I've been more of a lurker for a couple of years now.
I was originally drawn to b3ta by the games - or 'fun shit' as it's apporopriately named, however, upon further investigation into the site, I've become a regular in the QOTW section where I spend many afternoons at home laughing like a lunatic, whilst my future Mrs Kavanagh, and our children look at me like I should be sectioned under the mental health act.
As for me, when I'm not at home watching my kids whilst Mrs Kavanagh is busy working in the hell-hole she calls 'work' - once the weekend appears, I'm usually found behind one of the many DJ stands that feature in a little-known hamlet in Yorkshire called 'Halifax'*
Here I attempt to continue my trade of 15 years entertaining the masses, and getting free beer, loads of cash and the occasional cigarette for my troubles.
Apart from that, I'm your average geek, who spends way too much time on the internet, usually reading the many stories here on b3ta.
*with exception to that bank place that's now owned by Lloyds..
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
» Festivals
Hot Water...
First B3ta story, please be gentle..
I'd always fancied attending these huge events, the appeal of getting the chance to see massive bands, soak up the atmosphere with thousands of other like-minded people, and I'd even risk the opportunity of tasting the wares of the greasy burger sellers.
The thought of hitch-hiking through back roads, using nothing but the dulled sound of huge PA systems as our only means of navigation, and the Ray Mears-esque technique of finding water by following the herds of backpackers, hooded partygoers and hippies wearing tie-dyed tights got the better of me when I suggested to the missus that I really fancied getting tickets to see a Festival.
Fast-forward a couple of weeks, and with the attitude of an excited puppy, the missus comes bounding into the front room, clutching some pieces of paper, screaming 'Suprise' - I got these for you, hope you like them!!
So there they were, my golden tickets, I rejoiced as I was about to bear witness to the popping of my festival cherry, thoughts of a day trip to Millets flooded my mind, and a massive order of the ever popular toiletries, noodles and other substances not seen on GMTV were swiftly purchased.
A couple more weeks later, stuffed in the back of my mates Fiat Panda like sardines, sandwiched between rucksacks and them wierd metal tins with the folding handles, we're heading down the motorway, tape player on full blast (did'nt have the luxury of an IPod or CD player) we eventually turn up to what seemed to be a colossal village, surrounded by security, queues of traffic, coaches, articulated lorries and people wearing the most bizarre outfits that appeared to have been concoted by a seriously tripping Gok Wan.
So we're parked up, we've queued up and the all too familiar booming of the music, sound checks and people with whistles and horns is making our ears tingle with excitement, we've got through the security checks, sniffer dogs and avoided the local scamps trying to trade us dodgy wristbands, when we get to some massive security gorilla covered in ID tags, who demands to see our tickets, and as a nice bloke as I am, I eagerly hand them over..
"Come with me sir" he bellows, and ushers me to some small tent in a corner...
I'm thinking "What the fuck?, I'm not carrying anything dodgy, it's all stuffed in the missus's bra - they'll NEVER search there"
Oh no, it was'nt drugs he was after - upon opening the tent, it dawned on me what was happening, as there in front of me was a small table, with a red hat on it, covering what looked like a cordless kettle.
It turns out that in her eagerness, the missus had treated me to tickets to see a 'Fez-Tefal' and I'd fallen victim to another pun.
Length? - About a year of lurking...
(Tue 9th Jun 2009, 10:16, More)
Hot Water...
First B3ta story, please be gentle..
I'd always fancied attending these huge events, the appeal of getting the chance to see massive bands, soak up the atmosphere with thousands of other like-minded people, and I'd even risk the opportunity of tasting the wares of the greasy burger sellers.
The thought of hitch-hiking through back roads, using nothing but the dulled sound of huge PA systems as our only means of navigation, and the Ray Mears-esque technique of finding water by following the herds of backpackers, hooded partygoers and hippies wearing tie-dyed tights got the better of me when I suggested to the missus that I really fancied getting tickets to see a Festival.
Fast-forward a couple of weeks, and with the attitude of an excited puppy, the missus comes bounding into the front room, clutching some pieces of paper, screaming 'Suprise' - I got these for you, hope you like them!!
So there they were, my golden tickets, I rejoiced as I was about to bear witness to the popping of my festival cherry, thoughts of a day trip to Millets flooded my mind, and a massive order of the ever popular toiletries, noodles and other substances not seen on GMTV were swiftly purchased.
A couple more weeks later, stuffed in the back of my mates Fiat Panda like sardines, sandwiched between rucksacks and them wierd metal tins with the folding handles, we're heading down the motorway, tape player on full blast (did'nt have the luxury of an IPod or CD player) we eventually turn up to what seemed to be a colossal village, surrounded by security, queues of traffic, coaches, articulated lorries and people wearing the most bizarre outfits that appeared to have been concoted by a seriously tripping Gok Wan.
So we're parked up, we've queued up and the all too familiar booming of the music, sound checks and people with whistles and horns is making our ears tingle with excitement, we've got through the security checks, sniffer dogs and avoided the local scamps trying to trade us dodgy wristbands, when we get to some massive security gorilla covered in ID tags, who demands to see our tickets, and as a nice bloke as I am, I eagerly hand them over..
"Come with me sir" he bellows, and ushers me to some small tent in a corner...
I'm thinking "What the fuck?, I'm not carrying anything dodgy, it's all stuffed in the missus's bra - they'll NEVER search there"
Oh no, it was'nt drugs he was after - upon opening the tent, it dawned on me what was happening, as there in front of me was a small table, with a red hat on it, covering what looked like a cordless kettle.
It turns out that in her eagerness, the missus had treated me to tickets to see a 'Fez-Tefal' and I'd fallen victim to another pun.
Length? - About a year of lurking...
(Tue 9th Jun 2009, 10:16, More)
» I don't understand the attraction
Women..
who go to great lengths to look fantastic, just to take offence when a guy sees her, walks over and tries to chat her up.
I would'nt mind, but I even waited until she'd flushed before I opened the cubicle door...
*sigh*
(Thu 15th Oct 2009, 16:05, More)
Women..
who go to great lengths to look fantastic, just to take offence when a guy sees her, walks over and tries to chat her up.
I would'nt mind, but I even waited until she'd flushed before I opened the cubicle door...
*sigh*
(Thu 15th Oct 2009, 16:05, More)
» Presents
Practical Secret Santa..
When I was a spotty teenager, fresh out of college, I was working as an office assistant at an engineering firm, I had to do the secret santa thing at work, and I got one of our engineers out of the hat (well, paper bag..)
Needless to say, the budget was a fiver, which I went slightly over on, and he got from me:
1 Roll of Gaffer Tape (Silver - Wide)
1 Roll of Gaffer Tape (Silver - Narrow)
1 Roll of Gaffer Tape (Black - Wide)
1 Roll of Gaffer Tape (Black - Narrow)
1 Roll of Insulation Tape (Black)
1 Packet of SuperGlue
1 Black Permanent Marker
1 Pencil - One of those elliptical joiners pencils
1 Box of Chalk (White)
With these, I attached a note saying 'You can never have too much of this stuff'
He absolutely loved it - and it even put a stop to all the 'penpusher/desk jockey' jibes from his engineering crew which were aimed at anyone in a shirt & tie who happened to pass their workshop, and he even bought me a pint one night when we crossed our paths in the local boozer, I'd worked there for 3 years and we'd never said a word to each other. Ever.
Since then, I get on great with most of the lads, they've even helped me out with a few mechanical problems with my motor (I know absolutely fuck-all about cars) and even though I left the place in 1996, I still drink with the remaining few of them on a weekend.
Sometimes I guess the thought really does count, and the simplest things can go a long way.
I on the other hand, was given some flashing antlers from some twat in Telesales...
(Mon 30th Nov 2009, 17:27, More)
Practical Secret Santa..
When I was a spotty teenager, fresh out of college, I was working as an office assistant at an engineering firm, I had to do the secret santa thing at work, and I got one of our engineers out of the hat (well, paper bag..)
Needless to say, the budget was a fiver, which I went slightly over on, and he got from me:
1 Roll of Gaffer Tape (Silver - Wide)
1 Roll of Gaffer Tape (Silver - Narrow)
1 Roll of Gaffer Tape (Black - Wide)
1 Roll of Gaffer Tape (Black - Narrow)
1 Roll of Insulation Tape (Black)
1 Packet of SuperGlue
1 Black Permanent Marker
1 Pencil - One of those elliptical joiners pencils
1 Box of Chalk (White)
With these, I attached a note saying 'You can never have too much of this stuff'
He absolutely loved it - and it even put a stop to all the 'penpusher/desk jockey' jibes from his engineering crew which were aimed at anyone in a shirt & tie who happened to pass their workshop, and he even bought me a pint one night when we crossed our paths in the local boozer, I'd worked there for 3 years and we'd never said a word to each other. Ever.
Since then, I get on great with most of the lads, they've even helped me out with a few mechanical problems with my motor (I know absolutely fuck-all about cars) and even though I left the place in 1996, I still drink with the remaining few of them on a weekend.
Sometimes I guess the thought really does count, and the simplest things can go a long way.
I on the other hand, was given some flashing antlers from some twat in Telesales...
(Mon 30th Nov 2009, 17:27, More)
» Banks
Stuck Up Celebrity Bankers
We had a z-list celeb argument at work once - that ugly bloke from steps (or something) rang up complaining cause his card had been eaten by the machine. So we asked him to come down and bring some ID with him in order to try and help him get his card back.
Anyway, the silly fool sends his secretary down with his passport and driving license, she comes to the counter and starts screaming at the staff after being informed that we could'nt accept the ID on the basis that, even though it's her employers account, he had to be there.
While all the commotion is happening, I'm sat at the back sorting out a load of paying in slips, and my manager comes up to me and asked who the arrogant twat in the suit was.
"Ah ignore her" i said, "she works for H, Boss.."
*hides*
(Tue 21st Jul 2009, 11:22, More)
Stuck Up Celebrity Bankers
We had a z-list celeb argument at work once - that ugly bloke from steps (or something) rang up complaining cause his card had been eaten by the machine. So we asked him to come down and bring some ID with him in order to try and help him get his card back.
Anyway, the silly fool sends his secretary down with his passport and driving license, she comes to the counter and starts screaming at the staff after being informed that we could'nt accept the ID on the basis that, even though it's her employers account, he had to be there.
While all the commotion is happening, I'm sat at the back sorting out a load of paying in slips, and my manager comes up to me and asked who the arrogant twat in the suit was.
"Ah ignore her" i said, "she works for H, Boss.."
*hides*
(Tue 21st Jul 2009, 11:22, More)
» Conspiracy theory nutters
Prison Break...
My dad was a bit naughty when he was a lot younger, and as a result he eventually ended up doing a bit of bird for 'relieving a shop of it's weekly takings'
Anyway, whilst inside, his cellmate was, by all accounts 'a bit of a nutter' - not in a violent way, but more in a prophetic sense if you know what I mean.
My old man told me that this guy used to come out with some right corkers, stuff like 'there's aliens on the other side of the moon and they use it as an observation centre to keep an eye on us' - y'know, stuff like that.
Anyway, one particular stir crazy day, he came up with this gem..
Apparently there's enough sugar in Kendal Mint Cake to keep mountain climbers full of energy if they get stuck on their rocky travels, and by all accounts, apart from the inevitable dental pain from such a huge amount of sugar, one gets some kind of energy rush as well, similar to that you'd get in say, a full case of Red Bull.
Well his idea was to get one of his relatives 'on the outside' to send him a large Pork Pie, only instead of our swine flu donating animal friends innards contained within, he'd ask for the filling to be one great big lump of Kendal Mint Cake.
Apparently, It wouldnt show on the prisons X-Ray machine, and cause' it's food, no-one would think any wiser of it.
Then he'd wait until their visiting hour, eat the whole thing on one go - and using the resulting overload of sugary energy, he'd simply run as fast as he could round all the guards, leaving the prison, on foot at break neck speed..
My dad laughed at the guy, after all - who'd have thought that a cons pie racy theory to escape out of the door in that fashion would be that simple?
BONUS POST:
By the way, unlike my work of fiction above, this is actually true: My Grandfather (God bless him, if there is one..) used to think that the council was always listening in on him, one day he was decorating his room, and he pasted a layer of tin foil under his wallpaper in order to combat any 'bugs'
Length? - about 4 metres and very, very shiny...
(Mon 31st Aug 2009, 13:40, More)
Prison Break...
My dad was a bit naughty when he was a lot younger, and as a result he eventually ended up doing a bit of bird for 'relieving a shop of it's weekly takings'
Anyway, whilst inside, his cellmate was, by all accounts 'a bit of a nutter' - not in a violent way, but more in a prophetic sense if you know what I mean.
My old man told me that this guy used to come out with some right corkers, stuff like 'there's aliens on the other side of the moon and they use it as an observation centre to keep an eye on us' - y'know, stuff like that.
Anyway, one particular stir crazy day, he came up with this gem..
Apparently there's enough sugar in Kendal Mint Cake to keep mountain climbers full of energy if they get stuck on their rocky travels, and by all accounts, apart from the inevitable dental pain from such a huge amount of sugar, one gets some kind of energy rush as well, similar to that you'd get in say, a full case of Red Bull.
Well his idea was to get one of his relatives 'on the outside' to send him a large Pork Pie, only instead of our swine flu donating animal friends innards contained within, he'd ask for the filling to be one great big lump of Kendal Mint Cake.
Apparently, It wouldnt show on the prisons X-Ray machine, and cause' it's food, no-one would think any wiser of it.
Then he'd wait until their visiting hour, eat the whole thing on one go - and using the resulting overload of sugary energy, he'd simply run as fast as he could round all the guards, leaving the prison, on foot at break neck speed..
My dad laughed at the guy, after all - who'd have thought that a cons pie racy theory to escape out of the door in that fashion would be that simple?
BONUS POST:
By the way, unlike my work of fiction above, this is actually true: My Grandfather (God bless him, if there is one..) used to think that the council was always listening in on him, one day he was decorating his room, and he pasted a layer of tin foil under his wallpaper in order to combat any 'bugs'
Length? - about 4 metres and very, very shiny...
(Mon 31st Aug 2009, 13:40, More)