Wrist Watches
Hi.

I'm Panteneman, and my addiction is wrist watches.

It all started off for me when I just had the one watch, and being the scatter head that I am I would waste time running around the house trying to look for my watch when I was in college in the mid 1990's. In my infinite wisdom, I thought:

"Aha! I shall buy another, this way if I can't find my main one, I have a back up watch".

And then it snow balled out of control. I love the different styles of them, and mechanisms that they use (fully mechanical, automatic wind, LCD display, LED display). I like the fact that I can chuck a different one on each day like putting on a different shirt or something.

The addiction seems to knows no bounds. Just when I *think* I am happy with a watch, I will soon track down another that catches my eye. I've bought them for myself even outside the realms of my birthday or Christmas.

I really like my gadgets (PC's, mobile phones, amateur radio, Hi-Fi etc), and the watch collecting thing is probably an offshoot from it. I recall feeling that I was the dogs bollocks when I was a kid all because I had a Trafalgar calculator watch (and I was equally gutted when it got sea water in it, as it wasn't water proof). Probably to do with my Dad being a manager of Comet once upon a time, and being the manager of a Hi-Fi shop when I was small and wee.

I even went as far as taking months to track down a certain model of Fossil watch, and ended up buying the model I was after from America on eBay because I couldn't get it anywhere.

Here's a piccy of SOME of what I own:

Top left: Accurist Chronograph with World Time (Breitling a like in black "Ion Plated" bracelet), Pulsar Spoon (circa 2000 vintage), Fossil "Blue" BQ-9279 (watch has hidden "LED" time readout underneath the hands upon button press, lovely bit of kit), Fossil JR 9465 "OLED" (colour LED animated display), Identity LED watch, Seiko Automatic divers watch (the "James Bond" watch as my mates call it), and another (but more conservative looking)Seiko Automatic.

Bottom left: Citizen Automatic (Japanese import, displays date & time in Japanese and English), Casio 928-PGW30 "Pentagraph" sports watch (circa 1992), Casio Waveceptor (atomic clock accurate, self setting), Fossil JR9464 "OLED" watch, Paketa manual wind watch (Russian with 1-24 hour dial instead of 1-12, millitary style), Damas "Jump Hour" automatic (circa 1970's original), Fossil JR 8712 "Big Tic" (displays seconds behind hands in Old English style text), A "Cowboy Style" watch (used to wear quite a lot with biker jacket, jeans etc), and lastly a Sekonda where I replaced the strap with a funky green one.



(apologies for quick and shit picture, but you get the jist of what I have).
(Panteneman Isn't entirely sure why he bothered on, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 21:30, 18 replies)

My father is, embarrasingly, addicted to Viagra.
What the adverts don't state is that it's a mild opiate at about half the strength of vicodin. Normally, it relaxes the veins and allows blood to flow to certain parts of the body, but when mixed with alcohol has the effect of a muscle relaxant. It's now available in the US without a prescription, and my dad's been popping them for weeks. Just yesterday he had a scare and I'm hopeful, but doubtful, that it'll get him to quit.

Apparently veins and muscles which are closest to the skin are affected first by the relaxant, particularly in the face and chin. I walked in to find him with a flushed and ruddy appearance, which quickly migrated southward, causing mild spasms. He was choking!

He'd gotten a Viagra stuck in his throat, and had a stiff neck all day. Athankyou.
( Digeridude Lord Wellington's Beef Trapeze, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 21:20, Reply)

Gravy
I swear, I'm addicted to the stuff alright. I get upset if there's nothing to cook with gravy. It HAS to be able to stand a spoon in it, too!

Just now, I ate corned beef covered in mash and cheese with a pint of gravy. I even had to put it in a jug and bring it with me so I could put it on gradually, as it wouldn't fit on the plate.
( Methylene Blue - electrohead, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 20:17, 3 replies)

I visited the Doctor last week......
I visited the doctors last week.

I said 'Doctor, can you take look at my genitals they appear to have turned orange and I'm deeply concerned by it'

'What do you do for a living Sir?' The doctor replied.

'Nothing doctor, I'm unemployed' I said

'So what do you do all day?' The doctor said in a suggestive tone.

I replied in a confused manner 'Well, everyday I just get up, sit on the sofa, eat Wotsits and watch porn'
(Sir_Digby_Chicken_Caeser [email protected], Mon 22 Dec 2008, 20:13, 4 replies)

bmtorrents.net
a mate put me on to this site, i like a bit of porn but i'm far from addicted. i think it was the act of getting it free. i wont do pirate movies because i don't believe in stealing creative work from others. but for whatever twisted morality i may have i don't count porn in that. I work as a creative and i have actually had portfolios sent to me in job applications with my own fucking work in them! flattering maybe, but it makes my piss boil nevertheless.

last summer i ran a dedicated mac hooked up to a broadband connection at home.

I downloaded about 300gig of varying quality filth (most good to be fair)

i think there might be 100 or more hours of fucking, fisting, sucking, licking, swallowing, buggering and god knows what else. no shitting, snuff or kiddie obv.

mrs spimf - the ever patient mrs spimf, quietly pointed out i had been downloading porn for around 9 weeks solid. she didn't mind but she also observed i wasn't actually watching much of it and as much as it was 'kind of me to search for a lesbian dvd that would turn her on' it seemed slightly obsessive (her desires towards women are transient and *fuckle™ to say the least, they usually also involve much booze).

i think i might have actually watched 2 hours tops of the stuff... in erm, short bursts.

lets move on:

i'm shipping all my gear to dubai shortly so i have a cd wallet with around 50 or more DVD's crammed with great swathes of unwatched jiggy - jiggy that i can't take with me - not in disc form anyway, i stuffed a stash of it on my laptop naturally then hid the folder.

so if anyone wants the pornanza gaz me your address and i'll bung the lot in the post


*fuckle: when ones wife claims to be 'absolutely' up for a threesome but 'only if you can produce Nicole Kidman pre-botox or Jessica Alba in the Sin City chaps outfit' - then goes off the idea a week or so later because she seen them in a tabloid pic looking 'a bit funny'

meh!
( spimf ™ is whoever you want him to be, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 19:49, 7 replies)

scratching
i just can't stop.

I've got terrible eczema, it just won't go away, i trim my nails to the bed, i take or tried anti-histamines, steroid creams, moisturizers, coal tar, marigold oil, e45, doublebase, diprobase,

it's currently spreading, it stings to sweat, itches like hell, looks unsightly, gets worse with stress and hot environments.

Had it all my life, all i want is rid of it, but it keeps coming back with a vengeance.
( schizophrenic_sheep, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 19:22, 5 replies)

Picking my snout
Yeah yeah, I know that its really bad - but its the one thing I just can't stop!

I have a few 'minor' addictions such as world of warcraft and computers in general but none are as bad as picking my nose.

I remember being told off as a child to stop, which I would ignore thinking that I would simply out grow it.

It occurred to be when I was about 15 that I didn't out grow it. I remember thinking to myself "I'll quit when im 18, I'm still allowed to be a kid at the moment"

12 years later and I'm still at it.

I can't go long without having to inspect the green dungeon. I get some kind of perverse pleasure out of finding a 'good one' and I get very irritated if I can feel a one up there that I can't shift.

Even when im at work sitting at my screen my subconscious demands that I clear out the snout.

I'll quit when I'm 30 and I'll be telling my own kids to stop it :P
(ldwater otherwise known as a 'jive turkey', Mon 22 Dec 2008, 17:14, 2 replies)

sdrawkcab sgniht gnitirw ot detcidda m'i
pleh!
( waffle1 is lurking on, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 16:27, 10 replies)

Ballroom Dancing
Yes, that's right. I'm a dancing machine. I love getting my groove on with the ladies.

All the sequins and fake tan is not in the least bit addictive...

Actually the only reason I do it is because it's the only way members of the opposite sex will converse with me. I'm such a virgin.
(jackhiggs no longer a v!rgin as of..., Mon 22 Dec 2008, 16:23, Reply)

Well
So there i was. cold shivering, walking through town in the dead of night, flicking at my mobile phone, the battery dying but anxiously waiting for a call to come through. I see a bench, vacant, like me, and i'm weary, this is my 3rd day awake in a row, i shuffle over to it, my arms and legs limp and raw, my fingers start buzzing, My phone! At last, i paw at the keys, it connects, and i hear a voice rasp, "yeah", i'm not impressed, i've been waiting for this call for hours and he has the nerve to sound like some retard chimpanze that's just come out a of a coma, but i keep my thoughts to myself. "You got the stuff?", i enquire, my teeth chattering in the cold, "Sure it's right here in front of me". Well fucking great, another 4 mile walk just to get ripped off, but i'm not complaining, he's been always been there for me to take my money, whatever time of night or day, not unlike the other class of scum that's on the street, they're not even old enough to have their own house yet, selling out of someone else's garden, i bet they're all tucked up in bed with their computer games and dumb school girl friends, easy money to them, sell some drugs here, take a few there, "the good life" or so they say, but i'm rambling now, "ok, i'll you in a bit" i mutter down the phone, i hang up, switch off the phone in the safe knownledge that i'm not popular or wanted enough to be called back tonight, or any other for that matter, put the coat in my pocket and set off into the night.

It's not a bad night tonight, the drunken parties ended about an hour ago, just as i was coming too in an empty carpark, and everyone's going home to be happy tommorow, the joy of christmas, or so they say. A chill breeze slithers through the streets, i pull my worn leather jacket around me, a thin holey t-shirt and some baggy jeans that haven't been washed for days, i'm also at his house now, i walk up to the intercom, press it twice, a call sign, the police only ring once, he answers, not waiting for him to speak i say "it's me". I'm in, walking up four flights of stairs, the door's on the latch and i walk right in, he's sat alone, which was strange, day or night there's always a few people knocking around, but apparently hospitality isn't high on his list tonight, i reach into my jacket, and toss him a half torn, worn out £20 note, it's all i have left, there are 4 needle's out on the table, i look quizzically at him, "merry christmas" is all he says, i don't argue, free drugs are never to be passed up on, but there will be no enjoy, as i need these to stay awake, i need these to feel something, just that one last token hit of magic, "yeah and a happy fucking new year", i say back, i scoop up the needles and head to the bathroom.

Bent spoons and used needles lie in the path, torn towel everywhere, first timers, need to get their veins to show, i've done this a thousand times before, i check the needle, and slip it into my lifeless arm, i wait for the rush to come, that pin prick of life to course through me, this is my happy ending, well until tommorow, 10 seconds pass, nothing, 20... i look down at the fresh hole in my arm, it's hard to spot at first, scar's scracthed away from years of abuse, it's seeping a bit of blood.. why can't i feel anything.... I grab a strip of towel wrap it round my arm and pull it tight, the vein, almost destryoed, surfaces gently and weeps a single droplet of blood, i grab a 2nd needle and jab it into my arm... FUCK, WHY CAN'T I FEEL ANYTHING, shit, this is bad, bad drugs, no way, he's always been good to me, and it's christmas, it's not supposed to happen this way, i grab the last 2 needles desperate claw for a vein. My wrist starts throbbing, it's as good a place as any, i stab both of them into my wrist, i don't even care anymore if they hit a vein, these have to work...

i wait, theres nothing more to it now, i mean 4 needles in as many minutes, i should be on cloud fucking nine by now, suddenly my head goes light, and i feel warm and wet, theres a dull throbbibg in the my head, i must of hit it as i fell off the toilet, a bright light comes on, and i drift off to have my bit of life.



"Shit!", fucking junkies, i mean he can't of been there long, 5 - 6 minutes max, i'm staring at a soon to be body of a regular customer, his leather jacket around his slim frame, but his weight isn't my main concern, it's the worrying amount of blood seeping out of his wrist with 2 needles in it that are my main concern, i lean down and gingerly pull the first one out, i reach for the second and drag it clear, FUCK, theres blood everywhere, the needles now disgarded in the bath, i have to get him out of here, trust reliable junkies to go and OD and bleed out on my night off... There has to be a way out of this, i drag his body through my apartment, blood's going everywhere, i pick him up and throw him over my shoulders, i've had to lift heavier bags of shopping, i walk down the steps and out into the night, he starts to choke, i don't know if this is a good or bad thing, he's stopped moving on my shoulders, all i wanted for once was some peace and quiet, and i get stuck with this waster. I drop him into the back of my car. I don't know if he's breathing, you can never tell, and this pissing wind isn't helping, i close the door and go round, turn the engine on, it splutters to life and all i can think is "drive".

I watch from my parked car as the paramedics load his body into the ambulance, i'm not half a mile away from where i live, the black bag he's in is twice his size, his skeletal frame barely making a dent in it. They couldn't tell when exactly he died or where, just that it was somewhere between 3:30 - 4:30am on christmas morning, his name was Edward, and he was 23.
(My name was taken by me Is Sleeping With Your Sister/ Daughter/ Mother On, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 16:22, 4 replies)

Soppy post alert
I just want to say thank you so much to everyone who replied to my message (http://www.b3ta.com/questions/addicted/post334476), either there or by gaz, and offered me advice and support and good luck; you have no idea how much it has helped me to get through the last couple of days and, although I'm still feeling pretty weird about the whole thing, the advice you have all given me has made it so much easier to figure out what to do (not that I really have entirely).

I thought I'd just update you quickly, too; the friend who agreed to work his shifts today while he started the process of kicking it bailed on him and he couldn't face working without so he plans to have his last this afternoon and then spend the next couple of days getting past the worst with some Subutex. He's hoping not to be too sick with it by Christmas Day, but I don't know how realistic that is.

Anyway, thank you so much. You lovely internet people have been such a lifeline for me over the last couple of days. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it.
(clumsyeloquence is a girl, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 16:01, 36 replies)

sad fact of life...
Fat naked people on trampolines...

*hangs head*

I like the wobble...
(myiasis *hangs head*, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 15:57, 3 replies)

I'm addicted to 2007,
and it's not as easy to find as it used to be.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 15:49, 1 reply)

Flat pack furniture
..yes, it's true.

I'm addicted to putting flat-pack furniture together.

When I heard that MFI was closing down I was gutted.

I went to Tesco to get something to cheer me up: my favourite dish.

When I was there I was told that Tesco were looking into buying the troubled retailer.

When I got home I found that rumour to be true.

The chicken I picked up from the frozen section had one leg missing.






[takes off coat from the last time, puts it on and leaves]
(dchurch bah, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 15:32, 2 replies)

I’ve been scanning these pages looking for an alternative.

Looking for something else with which to attract (or distract) my explosively addictive personality, instead of my existing weaknesses.

Because, to be honest, my curent addictions are a bit boring. Effective, but dull and predictable.

They are: Cider…& Chinese food.

These two seemingly standard comestibles somehow contain magical properties when entwining down the party route that is my crap factory via tingling tastebud valley…

Nothing can stop me in my relentless pursuit of nomming inhumane amounts of these sublime victuals whenever possible.

The gastro-intestinal thermo nuclear cataclysm that regularly occurs in my rotting innards as a result of my overdosing on this fabled food / drink combo…does not stop me.

The amount of weight I’ve gained…that has turned me from a lithe, sprightly youngster into an unfit, waddling, wobble-arsed equivalent of the Rock of Gibraltar… does not stop me.

The fact that due to my knacked kidneys I have virtually no immunity system as it is, and my ‘little vice’ serves to keep me on the level of perpetual illness previously only enjoyed by AIDS victims…does not stop me.

The fact that I spend around £250 a month on said delights, and I could really do with spending my money on slightly more worthwhile things…does not stop me

The fact that due to my ‘self-styled dietary requirements’ I am continually wracked with bastard Gout of such biblical proportions that it would have made Henry VIII saw his own legs off at the armpits...and the tablets I quaff till I rattle still can’t keep up with the amount of chow & booze that I continue to shovel down my rancid gullet…

It still does not stop me.

The fact that last month my Doctor told me that if I carry on like this I will be dead in 5 years…drowned in a noodle infested, apple-scented, swollen liver swamp of my own making…

It still does not stop me.

Dash it all…why do they have to make these things so moreish?
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Mon 22 Dec 2008, 15:22, 12 replies)

Metal Mickey!
I was addicted to piercings for a while. Luckily I started when I was in my early thirties so wasn't able to express myself fully due to the fact I wanted to keep my job at the time. Had I started much earlier on in life then I'd probably be walking round like a pin cushion. I'm not much of a thrill junkie but the adrenaline rush of getting pierced is great and especially so when it's in a more intimate place. I've managed to keep to 6 peircings for a while now and shrunk down my stretched earlobes.

But every time I pop to Manchester for a bit of shopping, the urge to nip into my favorite piercers is still there. I quite fancy a surface piercing.........hmmmmm needles.
( girlinthehole, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 15:06, 1 reply)

posting puns on b3ta.
Yes, I'm addicted to online corn.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 14:43, 5 replies)

Drinking...
My mum used to drink heavily.

Some days she'd drink 3 or 4 bottles of Vodka, but with the so-called credit-crunch, she's had to cut back.

She's started to drink brake fluid.

I've told her that clearly she needs to get help, but she reckons that she can stop at any time.








[gets coat]
(dchurch bah, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 14:38, 8 replies)

Metal Gear Solid
Played the demo, didn't get it. Got the game. Oh...my...god. Meryl, sniper wolf, the revelation that Master wasn't who he seemed! Yea this game rocked!

Few years later and a friend shows me the mgs2 demo...fuck.

I pre order the game, take a few days off school and...the game arrived. It was awesome! Sadly, I finished it in 3 days and that was pretty much it for games. I'm 22 now, none have had that power since. Untill gt4 perhaps...bring on those endurance races :P

I'm not really one for addiction now, tried smoking, ecstacy, weed, alcohol, i can live without chocolate and masturbation loses it's edge occasionally, but mgs had me in it's vice like grip of cut scenes and occasional bits of gameplay.
Actually cheesecake...yea cheesecake...oh, and ben and jerrys...and god help anyone who asks me to give up metal music or lolcats!

Have a merry xmas xxx
(suicidalducky has too much time on his hands, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 14:26, Reply)

Im probably still addicted to an extent
I typed up a very long winded, detailed version of these events but its christmas so I'll try and keep it short and sweet.

Age 10, started drinking due to irresponsible parenting.
Age 12, started drinking heavily with boyfriend who was all of 3 years older than me. Then started drinking during the week on my own.
Age 15, boyfriend becomes physically abusive. I drink some more.
Still 15, start to dabble with cocaine, speed and heroin.
I dont go to school anymore, I skive by walking halfway there and turn around and go and lie in my bed all day and get drunk.
Age 16, my mum finds me unconcious on the kitchen floor at 1 in the afternoon because of drink. She takes me to hospital.
Tried to make me go on a rehabilitaion programme. No. No. No :)
Still being knocked about on a regular basis I decided that something had to be done.
I stood up for myself and managed to sort my life out but still with that tosser in tow.
Left me for a 28yr old, pregnant slapper.
I got drunk again.
I took him back.
I realised I didnt need him and that I was better off on my own.

Ran as fast as I fucking could away from him and never looked back :)

I still like to get drunk sometimes though.

Length? About 8 years.
(i should have joined myspace, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 14:26, 4 replies)

also
I am addicted to the internet, but I guess most people on here are as well.

I cannot go a day without the internet worrying that im missing something important. Even though it will always be there when I get back.
(Kierz, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 14:19, Reply)

Petrol
I cannot go to the petrol station without opening the window and fully inhaling those beautiful vapours.
(Kierz, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 14:19, 2 replies)

Money
I do actually really like the smell of money. I read somewhere that almost every note in circulation has trace amounts of cocaine on it, but I'm sure that has nothing to do with it.
(7inchcodpiece, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 13:51, Reply)

Mew Mew Power
on the PopGirl Sky TV channel. I know all of the words to the theme song, I can do the little dances and poses that each character does before they commence battle... Oh, and it has hot Japanese schoolgirls in tiny skirts and garters, transforming into a catgirl, a wolfgirl, a monkeygirl and a fishgirl, then beating up aliens.

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tokyo_Mew_Mew

S'great.

Also, Smallville (sorry).
( Bert Monkeysex is waiting for the mods to delete him, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 13:37, 5 replies)

VICKS
I adore vicks vapo-rub. I rub it everywhere when i'm ill and also when i'm not. I go through litres of the stuff. It's sooo lovely, my wife thinks i'm a freak but i dont care. After a few months on the tub i kick it for a few weeks then all i need is one faint whiff and then i'm back on again fully lathered in the stuff...
(whuppingboy, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 12:50, Reply)

Bread.
I just love it. Freshly baked. Any kind really - white, brown, malted, whole grain.

Crusty, soft, floured, poppy seeded, sesame seeded.

Favourites are Ciabatta, tiger bread and soda bread, but I also love Baguette, Foccacia, salt and pepper bread, pain de campagne, bagels, bloomers, subs, pain flute, naan, muffins (breakfast type and plain 'bread roll' type), crumpets and probably loads more.

If I had to go without bread for more than a few days, I think I'd go insane.
( Mike Fishcake teamfishcake.co.uk - better than your mum's face, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 12:46, 1 reply)

Travian
(Warning: this (sad, cautionary) tale reads like a prose version of the nights on Red Dwarf when Rimmer would read aloud from his ‘Risk’ campaign book; ‘then Atkinson rolled a five, and the fate of the Urals hung by a thread, I had a to roll a six…’).

Travian, for those who are unfamiliar with it, is a time-consuming, life-consuming, all-consuming free browser based multiplayer game based around resource management, diplomacy and, I discovered, displays of petulance normally associated with chav toddlers denied a treat but not denied sugar and additives for breakfast.

You start with a village and build up a little town and then a city. If you do well, you can expand into adjacent game squares and build a little community, you can then set up alliances and decide whether to become a megalomaniac world conquering tyrant crushing the skulls of your enemies beneath your jewelled sandals. Or not. I was, at this point, merely a recreational user.

I spent weeks bimbling along, trading, ignoring my neighbours (mistake!) and building up my village. Over the weeks I was getting more and more into the game, the more resource you have the closer you need to manage it to prevent waste. Eventually I would be visiting every half hour.

Then came the day I marshalled my resources and founded a neighbouring village. I set my workers to work, posted guard, invested resource and went to bed, secure in the knowledge that while I slept, my minions would toil. In the morning I would have a new village.

In the morning I had a smoking pit where my new village had been, a decimated capital, a new mortal enemy and a habit that consumed my time like fat kids consume happy meals.

The next two weeks were a futile, joyless war of attrition against alliances that hugely outnumbered me. I would build my forces, launch an attack, then defend against the counterattack. What made it worse was that a timer showed when incoming attacks were due. The bastard tactic was for villages in the alliance to launch an attack that would arrive at three in the morning. I was staying up late to fight off attacks and getting up at sparrowfart to assess the damage. I was grumpy and irritable, fuming and mentally composing crushing messages to send to my enemy after humiliating him on the field of battle.

Oddly, when I stopped acknowledging the gloating messages that came after the battles, the attacks dropped off and I resumed farming. (A failure of the game, I felt, was that a smoking village did not automatically generate a hero-class muscle-bound warrior with an Osstrian occent almost as thick as his thighs who would go on a bloody rampage of revenge).

Then two weeks later another village raids mine. I respond with many many raids and reduce his shabby little hamlet to ruins. His alliance respond and for the next weeks I battled truly overwhelming odds. The very odd thing was that by now, I was in a state eerie calm. Yet I still couldn’t stop.

Then the game stopped. Some other player somewhere had won by building a golden village hall or something. I was free at last.

I didn’t bother signing up for a new game. To win you have to make alliances and to do that you have to ally yourself with the sort of odious little goits that take it all seriously enough to manage dozens of villages and mastermind hundreds of attacks. Given the sort of monster I turned into trying to manage one village, I suspect that anyone successful at this lists their hobbies as: Travian, pot noodle and wanking.*

*Not themselves either. Ugggh.
(Macnabbs may contain traces of exaggeration on, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 12:45, 5 replies)

Sex "addicts"
They're just showing off, aren't they?

Smug bastards.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 12:26, 1 reply)

Today's addiction
This morning I have done almost nothing barr staring across the office at a most delightful colleague who is looking hot-hot-hot.

Late 30s, all in black, knee-length skirt and high heels.

I think I might have to knock one out in the bogs at lunchtime or I'll not get any work done today.
(Reverend Fister "a disciplined fuckwit", Mon 22 Dec 2008, 12:01, 5 replies)

I have a friend...
...who writes down everything I say.

Oh, hang on.
(ThomsonsPier consumes, Mon 22 Dec 2008, 11:26, Reply)