» Dressing Up

We were at work one day
...in a telesales office of a Friday afternoon, around 3 of the clock, quaffing warm tea and chatting nonchalantly.
As a little diversion from the phones and spreadsheets, I chose to offer a challenge to my colleagues: I was going to a Halloween party that night, and I wanted a really good, really scary costume idea.
Jill from accounts suggested I dress as a frightening clown, maybe with specks of blood on my face. Oooh, scary, said Diane in sales, I hate clowns.
Pete from marketing suggested I dress entirely in black and attach flat panel speakers to my front and attach a head-worn microphone, meaning my every word would be disconcertingly amplified. Interesting, freaky, everyone liked the idea.
Then Chris from purchasing, a quiet lad, loudly made a suggestion from the other side of the office (an office full of middle aged women, quiet accountants, unassuming receptionists):

"A baby. A baby covered in spunk."

The room went quiet. Everyone pretended to be busy. A sob escaped from Janine in HR.
So that was my costume.
(Thu 25th Oct 2012, 21:20, More)

» Corporate Idiocy

Answer Phone
I am currently in the unenviable position of trying to borrow a large sum of money from a high street bank. As such, I need to call my business bank manager quite regularly. The fact that I am given his mobile number is considered a special privilege - I feel greatly honoured. However, when I call him, I never get directly through to him, I only get his answer phone message.

This is the message:

"Hello, this is Darren Twatface (or similar), of [enter high street bank name] Business Bank, on the [enter that specific day's date]. I am currently unavailable, but if you leave a message I will make sure to return your call within 3 working hours. Alternatively..." blah blah

I have NEVER received a call back within 3 working days, let alone 3 working hours.

So, basically, every day he takes the time to record a new answer phone message making a promise to call back within 3 working hours. Every day he fails to do so. EVERY DAY HE LIES.
(Fri 24th Feb 2012, 23:15, More)

» Where Did It All Go Wrong?

It's all gone down hill here
Since this happened:

www.deagostini.com.au/ilovehorses/

:-(
(Tue 5th Mar 2013, 23:28, More)

» Biggest Sexual Regret

I've seen
a grown lady/man naked :(
(Sun 11th Dec 2011, 21:07, More)

» I Hurt My Rude Bits, Again

This is an odd story, and quite unbelievable, but bear with me
A long time ago, post- leaving uni but pre- getting anything like a proper job, I lived in a flat with a friend and his girlfriend. She was (and is) an artist, and quite an eccentric one at that. As such, she had taken to painting topless in the kitchen on roller skates and there were huge extremely graphic paintings of genitals lying around everywhere. This is not particularly relevant but does put the whole thing into context.

Anyway, she went through a period of wanting to paint nudes, and she asked me to be one of her subjects. Being young and quite fancying her, I was up for it. However, her boyfriend wanted to be around to stop any funny business. Fair enough.

So this meant me being in the kitchen naked with a lady painting me and her boyfriend (a friend of mine) basically just sitting around drinking beer and taking the piss out of the whole situation, as it was clearly quite absurd.

Being naked in front of other (clothed) people can be quite liberating, so I took the opportunity of doing something of a party trick. My penile banjo string at that time was exactly that: a string attaching my foreskin to my bellend. Being in a mischievous mood, I decided to make use of this for showing off purposes and managed to hang a set of keys from said aforementioned string, much to the delight of my friend and his missus. All non-sexual good fun. However, understandably it bloody hurt, and I realised that it was a stupid thing to do, though a great story to tell the grand kids.

Anyway, a week or so later, I was engaging in vigorous intercourse with a ladyfriend and suddenly discovered masses of blood between her legs. At first I thought she'd started her period mid-shag until I observed that I was in excruciating pain. Pulling out of her, I looked down to see the bloodied remains of what had once been my banjo string, but had now become a dangling flap of banjo gristle. Presumably, not helped by the hilarious keyring-cock-dangling acrobatics I'd recently engaged in, I had weakened and ultimately torn that sensitive part of my gentlemanhood.

It healed very quickly, didn't hurt for long, and has caused no lasting damage. Never knew what that bit of skin was for anyway :-/
(Sat 9th Mar 2013, 23:42, More)