Golden ascent to heaven
After the usual Friday night of mayhem with the lads I woke up in my loft room bathed in golden light and with the distant sound of a heavenly choir singing "God is great". "Oh shit" thinks I, "that last pint and kebab killed me". A feeling of utter panic ensues until a tiny logic bubble pops up. "hang on" I think, "if I was entering the kingdom of heaven would I feel this shit?"

So I jumped out of bed, the sun was shining through the window in the roof, hence the golden light and the Salvation Army were marching past my house singing happily away!
(davestillravin, Sun 17 Jun 2012, 19:04, Reply)

I survived the fire
of B3ta. Which also melted the servers of the forum that Mr Entity posted on.
We were forced to talk to each other!
( Mrs Entity is in hiding., Sun 17 Jun 2012, 17:12, Reply)

let's face it, time is not on our side
we've bred and spread so much that the planet can barely support us. the ecosystem is becoming increasingly fucked up. despite recycling, pollution is still a major problem and our food is a finite resource.
we are screwed.
unless, that is, the human race as a whole can learn to share, curb its excesses, ignore greedy urges and clean up after itself in a sensible way. simplistic perhaps, but it'd at least give us a chance.
but how likely is that? we're mostly territorial, aggressive, greedy creatures who will hoard what we have and prefer to let it spoil rather than give it away to others who have less. i've come to the conclusion that, some time in the next 50-60 years, there's going to be a mass global cry of "oh, why didn't we do something sooner?" as the entire planet goes terminally tits up.
if the only thing that can save us is cooperation, we are so dead.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Sun 17 Jun 2012, 17:12, 6 replies)

Folks, I give you...
.....the My Little Pony fleshlight.

We are, as a species, fucked.
( Amorous Badger NAKED BEA ARTHUR PHOTOS 4U, Sun 17 Jun 2012, 16:31, 22 replies)

Was out walking the dog the other day..
...when the landowner appeared and started yelling 'GET ORF MOI LAND! DON'T YEW KNOW TH'END O' THE WORLD'S A'COMIN'?'
I wasn't even on his land, I was using the footpath.
That Farmer Geddon is a utter cunt.
( Amorous Badger NAKED BEA ARTHUR PHOTOS 4U, Sun 17 Jun 2012, 16:28, 5 replies)

My first name, can be a surname
and my surname, a first name.

Over the last year or so, more and more unrelated people keep telling me they know someone who's name is the reverse of mine. As far as i can tell we're both the only ones with our particular names

Therefore i can only contend that before long, we must do battle for the fate of the universe. I dont even know which side i am...
(court escaper, Sun 17 Jun 2012, 14:06, 9 replies)

Scariest dream I've had
I'm stood on a street near my parents' house. No idea what the rest of the dream was about, but I look up towards the skyline and watch a mushroom cloud curling up.

Even now I can remember that feeling. Everything I wanted to do in my future was over, all my hopes and dreams and desires were pointless.

I'll take a scary monster chasing me any night now.
(chuckle_h0und You furnish the pictures, I'll furnish the war, Sun 17 Jun 2012, 12:33, 1 reply)

Slightly related.
In history, we were watching a public information film made in 1939 about what to do to prepare for the war. it said "do not buy any extra food, your rations will keep you going."

Yet less than 5 minutes later it said "always keep a small supply of food as well as your rations for emergencies."

Make your fecking mind up winston!
(D.I.pshit solved another case on, Sun 17 Jun 2012, 12:13, 2 replies)

I lived through an apocalypse once.
There was fire and brimstone coming down from the skies, rivers and seas boiling, forty years of darkness, earthquakes, volcanoes, dead rising from the grave, human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together... Your everyday mass hysteria really.

I would post pictures but my camera broke.
(Vigilante Man weeps because you're stupid., Sun 17 Jun 2012, 10:50, 8 replies)

So far I've survived.
The threat of Nuclear Armageddon in the 1980's
The Millenium Bug.
The Rapture of last summer.
the end of days December 2012.....Hmmm I think i'll be alright.
(Gru being trolled since 1998, Sun 17 Jun 2012, 9:17, 4 replies)

I don't think there is a right thinking individual among us
who didn't hear the "Miami Cannibal" story and get just a little bit excited that it might be a zombie.

It's not as if most of the human race isn't staggering around, desperately trying to consume things that it doesn't really need to survive anyway, the only difference would be that it would be actively encouraged to shoot them in the head, rather than frowned upon as it is now. Give me a zombie apocalypse over what we have now any day - Ugg boots, the only way is essex, professor fucking green, the whole world is disappearing up it's own arse - a zumba apocalypse. It's horrible. At least zombies would be exciting in the few days before they broke through the doors and ripped our intestines out.

I still have high hopes that some enterprising boffin is frantically busying himself splicing bath salts into viruses to see what happens.

I'm less enthusiastic if it all goes like Mad Max 2 though. Don't fancy trying to outrun some heavily muscled men in leather uniforms through rural scotland in a honda civic.
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Sun 17 Jun 2012, 2:49, 9 replies)

Used to being in frigid weather with no power, so not a big deal
I live in a more rural area, for the past several winters we have commonly lost power in ice storms and it has taken up to a month to get the powerlines back up so we are learning to deal.
Last year for example we had a storm and lost power for 26 straight days. The kicker was the temperatures hovered around -28F with windchills reaching around -78F below alot.
Yes people it IS indeed cold where I live, not that silly pansy cold that some endure, but REAL cold in which, yes your skin can freeze onto cold metal if you keep your gloves off too long doing chores, ( I live in a ranch)
We have 2 huge fireplaces and a coal stove and also 3 backup generators fueled by diesel, gas and one by compressed pellets. We keep about 500 gallons of both gas and diesel on hand to ensure we will not run out during a long spell being off the grid.
We also have a very nice underground root cellar that stays a constant 50F all year round that we keep stocked with foot stuffs, ie we keep about 300 lbs of cleaned wheat for making flour, oats, flax, all the grains etc.
We have alot of root crops that we keep stocked as well
We also keep about 5,000 rounds of ammo for various rifles, pistols, shotguns etc on hand, I have a federal firearms license which allows me to store more ammo then the average person so I take full advantage, do I need all this ammo? not really,but I do make a fair profit selling ammo to tourist hunters who want to attempt to try to hit a deer, unfortunately the vast majority of european and foreign tourists cannot tell a mule deer from a white tail so they have to be babysat as they trudge thru the badlands. Usually they make so much noise they don't even see a deer lol, but I digress.
I would say we store enough food on a consistant basis to be able to last around 6 months without resorting to panic and fear buying.
It is common to be snowed in for several weeks at a time so not many here panic, one must be tough to live where I do.
Those that need to pop off to the shops on a weekly basis usually pansy out and move back to their sissy lives in the cities lol
(zhinka If you don't rescue,don't breed!, Sat 16 Jun 2012, 21:56, 18 replies)

Complete Spoon
I've finally cleared out my collection of 286-era PC hardware, complete with 5 1/4" floppy drives, PS/2 keyboards and a 14.4kbps US Robotics modem.

If I'm truly honest with myself, I think I'd been keeping them to assemble in the wake of an mid-80's-style global nuclear war. The modem was to establish a rudimentary communications network with other survivors in the new underground age.

You know what's going to happen now that I've thrown them away...? T'uh, eh?
(Minsky, Sat 16 Jun 2012, 21:18, 2 replies)

My ex did a degree in English literature
but then turned to psychology, and from there to science, where she's doing very well.

Those who know her will realise that the human race is doomed.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sat 16 Jun 2012, 20:41, 8 replies)

The coming dark age
I had an interesting - if very depressing - conversation with my father a couple of years ago. He's a keen historian, and his area of interest is classical Greek and Roman history.

He was telling me how it only took a hundred years for the Roman Empire to fall, and that we were discovering technologies up to (I think) about the 19th century that the Romans had already developed a thousand years before. The dark ages were called the dark ages because of the very sudden massive loss of knowledge and information that the Romans provided (Bloody Romans!).

He is concerned for his grandchildren, as he feels that the world is so massively reliant on computing that all it takes is for the electricity to go and we're basically all completely fucked.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Sat 16 Jun 2012, 18:53, 10 replies)

maunder winter
there seems to be a building feeling (based on a japanese study into a decline in sunspots and more besides) that we are entering a little ice age this winter.

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Little_Ice_Age

so over the last couple of weeks i have started to assemble kit for THE SNOWCOPALYSE! SO! I am plotting how to fit a woodburner into our central heated house (oil shortages are going to be an issue), adjusting my BOBs (bug out bags) for colder weather and working out if we can get the decent tent on a sledge (and building pulling harnesses). Means a lot more food and water too dammit.


man i love stuff like this! :D
(DreddPirateBob has watched every scifi film ever on, Sat 16 Jun 2012, 18:32, 10 replies)

Wind up wonders
For years now ive been collecting useful equipment that need no batteries or electricity to make them work.
So far ive got a manual sewing machine with a collection of needles, solar phone chargers, wind up chargers for phones/ipods/torches/wind up torch collection, solar and wind up watches and radios both long and short wave,, steel lighter(metal flint and 'match'), a full complement of survival goodies, rope of varying lengths and guages, snow shoes, 2 axes and a motley collection of goodies which will all help me and mine to survive any holocaust, including a zombie invasion!
Havent stored any food though but perhaps i should?!!
(BlackMagicWoman, Sat 16 Jun 2012, 17:43, 3 replies)

When the Apocalypse came some turned to God.
The summer of 1987 was the summer I spent bumming around Europe. The plan had been to spend the hot months working in bars around Marbella and then the autumn would be spent picking grapes and getting my end away with as many locals as I could. But at the beginning of September I met Paz. She was a walking Spanish cliché: long dark brown hair, bottomless chocolate brown eyes, long slender lithe limbs, spoke very little English, a good devout catholic girl, and utterly enchanting. I spent all of September trying to talk her into my bed with no success – she was hung up on ideas of love, fidelity, God, marriage, and the church. I was eighteen and wanted as much Spanish pussy as I could get. The closest I could get was when she let me apply Piz Buin to her back on the beach. Unlike the British girls who stayed for a couple of weeks of sun, sangria, and sex, Paz didn’t sunbathe topless. None of the Spanish girls did, and only a few of them would go skinny dipping. The Brits spent most of their two weeks naked and working their way through all the waiters and bar staff. I’ve got dark hair and fairly olive skin so I would get chatted up initially because the girls thought I was a local, then they’d be thrilled to discover I was actually from London and understood them. A good tan and a moped loosens a lot of knicker elastic.

Paz was entirely different – she was Spain for me. Hot, sultry yet pure, and just out of my reach. So what’s this got to do with the Apocalypse?

Paz invited me to a bull fight up in the hills near Grenada, I think. It wasn’t the usual touristy version; this was the proper Picasso hard on affair. I wasn’t sure – I’d given a few coppers to anti-vivisection charities and all my female friends from Sixth form had only purchased Beauty Without Cruelty cosmetics – it was a thing in the 80s. But this was with Paz. “Come. Come with me, Richie. I show you Spanish passion.” Paz looked and sounded a little like Penelope Cruz…but then most Spanish girls in their late teens do. We went. We saw the bull fight and I’d like to say it appalled me, that I cried for the murdered and tortured animals, but the reality was that sitting there in the blazing September sun with Paz gripping my thigh every time the matador waved his cape, I got a hard on, just like Picasso promised. Unfortunately Paz’s grandmother was sitting the other side of me in her black widow’s weeds and she noticed. She told Paz’s father and the upshot was that it became quickly obvious that leaving Spain was a good idea unless I wanted to get married. My money was getting low too so I came home for the bank of Ma and Pa.

So that’s how I found myself back in England by October 1987. I’d put off going to uni for a year and I found some work housesitting for a friend of my parents. They lived in a large chalet style bungalow on the south coast. I slept in the loft room which had an amazing view out over the channel and all I had to do was to watch tv, read books, and wank as I was under orders not to take home any local talent.

On the 15th October there was a knock at the door. Paz had followed me to England – she’d been to my parents’ house and they told her where she could find me. She’d had a massive row with her father and walked out. She said she’d had enough of being the perfect catholic girl, following all their rules, being the dutiful daughter….okay, her English still wasn’t that good. What she actually said to me was, “Richie, I am hot for you”….Okay, in my dream she said that. I think she told me she loved me and dumped her suitcase on the doorstep.

Oh boy.

Still, I was eighteen and all my brain function was filtered through my cock. Still is, to be honest.

This didn’t count as local talent.

Being a gentleman I made pizza and oven chips and we watched a video – Nine and Half Weeks had just appeared at the local video rental shop, £2.50 for the night. I wasn’t bothered about watching the news on BBC 1; I didn’t see the fateful weather forecast by Michael Fish….

I took Paz upstairs to my room. We sat on my unmade bed. I kissed her gently and held her hand. Then she put her hand on my thigh, and I began to kiss her neck. “Si. Si.” Paz whispered into my hair. I slipped a hand under her U2 t-shirt and discovered that she wasn’t wearing a bra. I loved Walnut Whips.

I wanted this to be a proper Erica Jong zipless fuck, but when you’re eighteen they never are. Instead we spent hours heavy petting – no one does that anymore! Just like white dog turds, it’s all gone now.

Finally around 1am we were naked under the duvet and my trusty packet of three had come off the subs bench. I’d kept up with my reading during the summer and had wanked my way through Anais Nin, so I knew what Paz would like. I licked and sucked every inch of her until the room began to shake. I paused, there was total stillness like we were inside a church. Gently I pushed into her – no sliding just yet, this was her first time. We kept kissing and kissing and slowly we began to fuck. Never before and never since have I had an experience like it. The room began to shake again, then the bed seemed to come up off the floor in time to our banging. My entire body was fucking this exquisite Spanish girl who wanted me like a badger wants honey. As I shot my bolt the roaring started….I couldn’t feel, hear or see anything else except the white blindness of coming into a tight pussy and it seemed to go on for ages.

It was then that we both realised that the earth wasn’t moving because of this incredible hot teenage sex we were having. There was a fucking hurricane going on outside. We didn’t sleep at all that night – not because we were humping like a pair of dogs on heat but because I was chasing the barbecue around the garden.

In the morning the scene of devastation was apocalyptic. No power, no water, no telephones. Most of the roads around us were blocked but by the evening things improved a little and I drove her back to my parents’ house where she stayed until she could get a flight home. The hurricane was our fault, apparently; God’s sign that Paz should have been married before she lost her virginity. She stayed in touch for a short time but while I was in university she decided to take up Holy Orders. And that’s how shagging me made a Mother Superior.
(Stiff Richard, Sat 16 Jun 2012, 15:07, 3 replies)

i've not faced the apocalypse in any form yet
but when it arrives i hope i've had some part in it.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Sat 16 Jun 2012, 14:47, 8 replies)

Apologies if someone has already posted something similar...
I used to work with this guy called Darryl, and we always had a right laugh in the office - everything from telling each other obscene jokes to discussing how well or badly our fantasty football teams were doing (how well for him, how Portsmouth for me).

One day during the fuel crisis back in 2000, he said to me about his girlfriend: "I asked Zoe to dress up as a nurse last night." I started mentally preparing myself to congratulate him on whatever kinkyness he was about to describe to me, though I think I would've stopped just short of a high five. "She winked at me and jokingly asked me why, and I told her because I needed her to get me some petrol."

I instantly realised that he'd heard it on the radio or something that morning, but that didn't stop me pissing myself laughing and fighting the urge to high five him anyway.

It won't surprise you to learn that I can be quite easily pleased at times.
(TheAmazingMeatMan ™ can't sing, but he's got soul, Sat 16 Jun 2012, 12:11, 2 replies)

Halfway through an English lesson..
..sometime in the early eighties, around the time I was convinced nuclear war could break out at any moment, the town's air raid siren went off. I'd never heard it used before and had no idea that the council were merely testing it to make sure it still worked. What really, really didn't help was our teacher putting down her chalk and calmly turning to the terrified class to say,

"Okay, you have four minutes to gather your things."
(Haywood Manley, Sat 16 Jun 2012, 8:39, Reply)

Blew a conch shell; killed a kid.

(boozehound is drinking your bar dry, Sat 16 Jun 2012, 7:42, 11 replies)

Bushfire
It’s long one....but worth telling.

My family lived in the bush, on a few cleared acres at the base of a mountain, surrounded by dense Eucalypt forest. A semi-rural, idyllic Australian life. I was one year old, still at home with my Mum, and on this particular day my elder siblings were all at school in the town and my Dad had gone to work in our only car.

Mum was at home with me, listening to the radio while cooking a saucepan of custard for my lunch.

The summer had been especially dry and hot. There were reports on the radio of fires all over the state, and as it turns out, a great number of them had been deliberately lit (some simpletons get a kick out of initiating mass destruction by fire).

The radio announcer had changed from giving updates on the bushfires, to telling everyone to evacuate to town...now!

Mum decided to get the hell out of our death-trap bushland house and into the safety of town...now!

Now what follows...

My Father’s version of events has always been this;
“The wife called me from home to come and get her. I rushed home, she took too long to get ready, mucking around the house, frigging around instead of leaving, cooking up some fucking custard. I grabbed her and baby Oath, jumped into the car and headed down the road. Thanks to her, we were were too late. The firestorm leapt the road ahead of us and behind us. I saw a stormwater drain down in the gully, we crawled into it and thanks to my quick thinking, and we all survived.”


Years later, my mother is visting my house and I am re-counting this story of paternal heroics to my wife. My Mother quietly said, “Actually, I remember it very differently”.

“Your Father was reluctant to leave town to come and get me, instead, telling me to hold tight and stay in the house. If it got really bad and the house caught on fire, I was to run across the paddock and jump into the dam with the baby, duck my head under the water when the fire hit.

Eventually I persuaded him to leave town and drive home to collect me and the baby. While I was waiting for him to arrive, I climbed onto the roof, cleared the sticks and leaves from the gutter, stuck a tennis ball in the gutter downpipe and filled the gutters with water, threw the wood stack away from the side of the house, sprayed the house down with water and finally let all the animals out of their pens (pigs, duck, goats, chooks).

When he finally arrived he was much panicked, not wanting to leave the car, revving the engine and yelling at us. We leapt into the car and by then the wind was searing hot and ferocious, the sky was orange with smoke and burning embers. Cinders were starting to land around us. Dad tore along the driveway, and turned onto the twisty road that led down the mountain into town. Progress was slow because of the dense smoke.

We could sense the fire all around us, the smoke was very thick, then it cleared suddenly, and all of a sudden a huge fireball flared up from the gully, cutting off the road in front. The road behind was ablaze too.

Your Father completely lost all sense, got out of the car, ran around to my door and wrenched it open. I thought he had a plan to escape, but in fact, he screamed to smash the baby’s head against the road thereby killing you instantly, then we were to plunge ourselves into the heart of the fire and die as quickly as possible.

He was beyond panic, simply gone mad with fear. We apparently had no means of escape and his only solution was to kill ourselves.

I pulled myself away from him, grabbed the baby and ran. I had to get away from him before he killed us. I slithered down a steep embankment with the intent to lie low in the ditch at the bottom and simply pray. Your Father followed, trying to grab the baby from me. At the base of the embankment was a large concrete pipe for stormwater, I shuffled inside to get away from him and kept moving along the pipe, further and further into the cool darkness. After a while, we realised that we might just survive inside the pipe.

There was a breeze coming up the pipe as the fire was sucking all the air through it from miles below, and despite the inferno outside, there was a small trickle of water running through it. We wet one of the baby’s blankets in the trickle of water and held it up to the entrance, and lay down as the fire raged outside. After what seemed like an eternity the fire moved through. We waited, and waited then finally crawled out to greet a scene of hell. Every house around us had exploded, there were no trees, only ash, the petrol in the tank in the car had boiled dry, and the tyres had completely melted. “


But, despite being surrounded by desolate smouldering carnage, my Mum felt safe. She knew everything had burned, and therefore the fire couldn’t come back to get us. They had survived, so Dad’s desire to kill everyone had dissipated somewhat. Then, my Mum suddenly realised that I hadn’t made a noise for quite some time. She had a cold chill of panic, fearing that I may have suffocated from smoke inhalation, or being smothered by her own body in the pipe.

She gave me a pinch.....and fucking woke me up.!

I’d slept through the entire thing.

Then she fetched the saucepan of custard from the car and we had lunch.


And she didn’t give any to Dad.
( Ken Oath, Sat 16 Jun 2012, 2:46, 29 replies)

i am a nut about the apocalypse
and have spread that madness to most of the folk i know. Not the mayan nonsense, just any kind of total destuction/societal breakdown where i get to be madmax. However, i find the only people who really want to ask me for advice and to discuss possible endings for us are jehovas witnesses.

arse.
(DreddPirateBob has watched every scifi film ever on, Fri 15 Jun 2012, 20:07, Reply)

Ther was this one time
I posted a new thread in /talk.
(Kushan just wants to fit in..to your mum, Fri 15 Jun 2012, 16:21, 7 replies)

Doused in Africa
and set alight, this is how the world ends not with a bang but a whoomphh and the smell of teenagers masterbating.
(Shamelesspendant Better dead then smeg., Fri 15 Jun 2012, 15:19, Reply)

Dont know about you, but im heading down to the Winchester
and waiting till it all blows over.
(magictorch, Fri 15 Jun 2012, 15:04, 3 replies)

I hate to be the one to tell you all this
But Zombies are fictional.



(Now take this coupon for a free brain examination)
( MatJ LOOK, Fri 15 Jun 2012, 14:28, 16 replies)

Not the end of the World
But my fury was apocalyptic when after several years of watching Quantum Leap they finished it all with the pissiest ending they could think of.

Even thinking about it as I type this is filling me with rage.

Wankers.
(ParaSitius is an Optimistic Pessimist, Fri 15 Jun 2012, 14:28, 7 replies)