Bad Ideas
"Let's get all the fireworks and pile dog shit on top of them". I can't believe I actually said that, and I still can't believe I was the one who lit them and couldn't run away in time. Tell us about your spectacularly misjudged ideas.
Suggested by Pig Bodine
( , Thu 24 Jul 2014, 13:15)
"Let's get all the fireworks and pile dog shit on top of them". I can't believe I actually said that, and I still can't believe I was the one who lit them and couldn't run away in time. Tell us about your spectacularly misjudged ideas.
Suggested by Pig Bodine
( , Thu 24 Jul 2014, 13:15)
This question is now closed.
We slashed and we burned and laid waste to it all
For the glory and the vanity of rock n' roll.
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 15:24, 1 reply)
For the glory and the vanity of rock n' roll.
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 15:24, 1 reply)
Me and my wife and daughter went on holiday in Portugal
.......
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 15:16, 4 replies)
.......
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 15:16, 4 replies)
I was in a bar in the red light district of Amsterdam with a couple of friends.
While whiling away the day trying to achieve a state of advanced refreshment, the topic of conversation had turned to film.
It turned out that one of our group had never seen Blazing Saddles. Seeing as it's a film we knew he would find very funny, we started to tell him about it, specifically the scene where the sheriff is approaching the town, and the guy on the bell tower keeps shouting,'the sheriff is a nigger', but a bell keeps ringing, so the people of the town hear the sheriff is a near.
He was greatly amused by this story, and started saying the sheriff is a nigger in quite a loud voice. Meanwhile, a group of scousers had entered the bar, one of who was black. My other friend and I thought then would be a good time to leave, so we headed out to see what the day would bring.
As we walked up the street, we walked past a rather large dreadlocked black gentleman who was stood at the opening to a small alleyway in the business of trying to sell 'cocaine' to tourists. As we passed him, one of our group shouted out,'the sheriff is a near'. An American walking towards us answered this by shouting at the top of his lungs,'NO, THE SHERIFF IS A NIGGER'. The three of promptly legged it, but I looked back to see our colonial cousin being manhandled into the alleyway by the 'drug' dealer.
I've often wondered how his tour of Europe ended.
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 14:40, 8 replies)
While whiling away the day trying to achieve a state of advanced refreshment, the topic of conversation had turned to film.
It turned out that one of our group had never seen Blazing Saddles. Seeing as it's a film we knew he would find very funny, we started to tell him about it, specifically the scene where the sheriff is approaching the town, and the guy on the bell tower keeps shouting,'the sheriff is a nigger', but a bell keeps ringing, so the people of the town hear the sheriff is a near.
He was greatly amused by this story, and started saying the sheriff is a nigger in quite a loud voice. Meanwhile, a group of scousers had entered the bar, one of who was black. My other friend and I thought then would be a good time to leave, so we headed out to see what the day would bring.
As we walked up the street, we walked past a rather large dreadlocked black gentleman who was stood at the opening to a small alleyway in the business of trying to sell 'cocaine' to tourists. As we passed him, one of our group shouted out,'the sheriff is a near'. An American walking towards us answered this by shouting at the top of his lungs,'NO, THE SHERIFF IS A NIGGER'. The three of promptly legged it, but I looked back to see our colonial cousin being manhandled into the alleyway by the 'drug' dealer.
I've often wondered how his tour of Europe ended.
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 14:40, 8 replies)
Brothels in Lanzarote
About 3 years ago I went abroad with my uncles, they owned a villa in a rather nice area in Lanzarote they were selling it and I flew out with them for a week of sun, sand, beer and renovating and clearing out the villa.
It all started relatively well, on the beach front there was a kind of complex with restaurants and cyber cafés and little bars etc and also a strip club that just seemed to be in the middle of all the more family orientated stuff. It was always closed when we were out eating and having a few beers, most nights we were back at the villa for about midnight.
One evening after a superb steak with Roquefort sauce I had been chatting to a couple of young lasses from Newcastle and when the older folk headed back to the villa I stayed out with these two, only to discover they had a nice bag of shite coke. A few more sherbets and some dodgy coke and a good old dance...I didn't pull so decided to walk back to the villa. By the time I left the lasses I was a good couple of miles down the beach front from the local complex that was about 600 metres from the villa. I would have got a taxi but had about €20 to my name and I was saving that.
As I neared the complex I realised the light for the strip bar was on, all other bars in the locality were closed, as I neared the strip joint in my flip flops and combat shorts and dodgy primark t shirt (or saink) I realised there was a lady on a stool outside with a peephole bra on and the full stiletto suspenders get up going on. I was high, it seemed like a good idea I walked in, sat at the bar and enquiries to the price of a drink as lots of lovely ladies paraded around. At this point I bought a corona, at the price of €10 a bottle. The lone guy sat on the still next to me gave me a nod, I asked if they sold fags behind the bar and the barman just handed me about 6 loose fags. I sparked up. As I sparked a fag a beautiful blonde the likes of which I had never seen before sat next to me, I tried to explain I had only come for one last drink and a smoke. I glanced towards the door I had walked in and saw about 4 huge and I mean FUCKING MASSIVE black men in white best tops, it was also at this time I saw two women leading two men from behind a curtained area, the men were still doing their jeans and flies up.
Something clicked...I had walked into a brothel, the guy sat on the still had just placed another bottle in front of me, which he refused to accept payment for and telling me he was the manager and I could just pay afterwards, after what I thought...I was being eye balled after giving the blonde the brush off...I panicked, pretended my phone was ringing and headed towards the door. Only to be stopped by the men with the muscles explaining that I hadn't paid, I have them the last €10 I had and insisted I had to take the call.
I walked back passed the bondage woman (who was more scary than te guys in the bar) I walked out and started to pretend to have a long and boring conversation on the phone all the time being watched by miss fucking whiplash like a hawk. Her attention was momentarily distracted, I kicked my flip flops off and fucking legged it.
The next day we went down for breakfast to a cafe pretty much on the doorstep of this brothel, and there outside the door were my flip flops, a bottle of corona and 4 loose fags. Like some kind of mocking calling card.
I didn't go down there again for the next 2 days instead opting to hide in the villa with "a belly ache"
Tl;Dr get fucked
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 13:32, 5 replies)
About 3 years ago I went abroad with my uncles, they owned a villa in a rather nice area in Lanzarote they were selling it and I flew out with them for a week of sun, sand, beer and renovating and clearing out the villa.
It all started relatively well, on the beach front there was a kind of complex with restaurants and cyber cafés and little bars etc and also a strip club that just seemed to be in the middle of all the more family orientated stuff. It was always closed when we were out eating and having a few beers, most nights we were back at the villa for about midnight.
One evening after a superb steak with Roquefort sauce I had been chatting to a couple of young lasses from Newcastle and when the older folk headed back to the villa I stayed out with these two, only to discover they had a nice bag of shite coke. A few more sherbets and some dodgy coke and a good old dance...I didn't pull so decided to walk back to the villa. By the time I left the lasses I was a good couple of miles down the beach front from the local complex that was about 600 metres from the villa. I would have got a taxi but had about €20 to my name and I was saving that.
As I neared the complex I realised the light for the strip bar was on, all other bars in the locality were closed, as I neared the strip joint in my flip flops and combat shorts and dodgy primark t shirt (or saink) I realised there was a lady on a stool outside with a peephole bra on and the full stiletto suspenders get up going on. I was high, it seemed like a good idea I walked in, sat at the bar and enquiries to the price of a drink as lots of lovely ladies paraded around. At this point I bought a corona, at the price of €10 a bottle. The lone guy sat on the still next to me gave me a nod, I asked if they sold fags behind the bar and the barman just handed me about 6 loose fags. I sparked up. As I sparked a fag a beautiful blonde the likes of which I had never seen before sat next to me, I tried to explain I had only come for one last drink and a smoke. I glanced towards the door I had walked in and saw about 4 huge and I mean FUCKING MASSIVE black men in white best tops, it was also at this time I saw two women leading two men from behind a curtained area, the men were still doing their jeans and flies up.
Something clicked...I had walked into a brothel, the guy sat on the still had just placed another bottle in front of me, which he refused to accept payment for and telling me he was the manager and I could just pay afterwards, after what I thought...I was being eye balled after giving the blonde the brush off...I panicked, pretended my phone was ringing and headed towards the door. Only to be stopped by the men with the muscles explaining that I hadn't paid, I have them the last €10 I had and insisted I had to take the call.
I walked back passed the bondage woman (who was more scary than te guys in the bar) I walked out and started to pretend to have a long and boring conversation on the phone all the time being watched by miss fucking whiplash like a hawk. Her attention was momentarily distracted, I kicked my flip flops off and fucking legged it.
The next day we went down for breakfast to a cafe pretty much on the doorstep of this brothel, and there outside the door were my flip flops, a bottle of corona and 4 loose fags. Like some kind of mocking calling card.
I didn't go down there again for the next 2 days instead opting to hide in the villa with "a belly ache"
Tl;Dr get fucked
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 13:32, 5 replies)
I wrote a letter to Jim'll fix it
Asking to be painted be Rolf Harris.
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 13:22, 5 replies)
Asking to be painted be Rolf Harris.
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 13:22, 5 replies)
BMXing
Seemed like a good or at least, not bad idea at the time. This only happened a year ago and is still a very painful memory. A new skateboard park was opened a few years ago and is quite extreme, so I thought I might as well have a go at the ramps. I got the kit and got into it. Now a word of warning, if you weren't bought up on BMX from an early age, don't do it at a later age. For reasons not entirely understood you will likely have a massive accident. At the time I was having some time off work due to a corrective dental brace (this is relevant) so could spend the odd afternoon there. I had got the hang of entering the main bowl that had sides about 7ft high and all in all was wondering what further marvels awaited. Now a word about the dental correction - the Ortho was having some trouble due to the extent of movement needed and the amount of actual leverage or pull that could be exerted on the rear teeth. Too much and they moved forward, too little and the front ones stayed proud. It didn't look good.
I was about to provide some personal improvisation. I was building up to a vertical entry for the main bowl and had got the lines worked out but I forgot to lower the seat prior to riding around the park. As the bike tipped in the seat whacked my backside and jacked me up, had me way too high out of the seat and instead of landing wheels down I did a face-plant onto flat concrete - from a head height of about 11ft! Cue massive blood from a 2" cut to the forehead, ambulance called but the best was yet to come. The upper jaw, left side had also taken a huge hit and had pushed the front teeth in and together. The brace had bent into an 'S' shape because of the movement. Several teeth were loose and when I saw the Ortho 5 weeks later he was somewhat shocked and resigned. I was of the mind that it had pushed things in the right direction and since he also dealt with sports injuries, whereby the same thing could happen he was used to it and "Just do what you would do in the same circumstance etc". He got on with getting back to some kind of routine and before long they actually looked OK. A year later they look super and the Ortho has been really enthusiastic about the final result of the treatment, which is a great change from when I first called about correction when he was almost cracking jokes about my request.
So when I'm asked about the cost of dental realignment I say £323,000. £3000 paid to the Orthodontist and £320,000 from the Council for building the Skate park (without them it couldn't have happened). As for it being a good or a bad thing, well I wouldn't do it again but I can't complain of the results.
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 12:38, 7 replies)
Seemed like a good or at least, not bad idea at the time. This only happened a year ago and is still a very painful memory. A new skateboard park was opened a few years ago and is quite extreme, so I thought I might as well have a go at the ramps. I got the kit and got into it. Now a word of warning, if you weren't bought up on BMX from an early age, don't do it at a later age. For reasons not entirely understood you will likely have a massive accident. At the time I was having some time off work due to a corrective dental brace (this is relevant) so could spend the odd afternoon there. I had got the hang of entering the main bowl that had sides about 7ft high and all in all was wondering what further marvels awaited. Now a word about the dental correction - the Ortho was having some trouble due to the extent of movement needed and the amount of actual leverage or pull that could be exerted on the rear teeth. Too much and they moved forward, too little and the front ones stayed proud. It didn't look good.
I was about to provide some personal improvisation. I was building up to a vertical entry for the main bowl and had got the lines worked out but I forgot to lower the seat prior to riding around the park. As the bike tipped in the seat whacked my backside and jacked me up, had me way too high out of the seat and instead of landing wheels down I did a face-plant onto flat concrete - from a head height of about 11ft! Cue massive blood from a 2" cut to the forehead, ambulance called but the best was yet to come. The upper jaw, left side had also taken a huge hit and had pushed the front teeth in and together. The brace had bent into an 'S' shape because of the movement. Several teeth were loose and when I saw the Ortho 5 weeks later he was somewhat shocked and resigned. I was of the mind that it had pushed things in the right direction and since he also dealt with sports injuries, whereby the same thing could happen he was used to it and "Just do what you would do in the same circumstance etc". He got on with getting back to some kind of routine and before long they actually looked OK. A year later they look super and the Ortho has been really enthusiastic about the final result of the treatment, which is a great change from when I first called about correction when he was almost cracking jokes about my request.
So when I'm asked about the cost of dental realignment I say £323,000. £3000 paid to the Orthodontist and £320,000 from the Council for building the Skate park (without them it couldn't have happened). As for it being a good or a bad thing, well I wouldn't do it again but I can't complain of the results.
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 12:38, 7 replies)
Going back to a girl's flat with unexpected results
I thought I'd legitimately pulled her; it turned out that a) she was a crackhead, b) she shared a house with an enormous and terrifying crackhead man, and c) they expected some money from me for crack. I ran as fast as I could and to this day I'm grateful they didn't catch me. Fuck knows what they would have done to me.
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 12:37, 5 replies)
I thought I'd legitimately pulled her; it turned out that a) she was a crackhead, b) she shared a house with an enormous and terrifying crackhead man, and c) they expected some money from me for crack. I ran as fast as I could and to this day I'm grateful they didn't catch me. Fuck knows what they would have done to me.
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 12:37, 5 replies)
Sat on a train in the Quiet carriage
Thought I could get away with lifting one cheek and silently letting out a fart that had been building up for the past two hours. It was not silent by any means. It lasted about 20 seconds and was a high-pitched noise between a creak and a squeal. Sadly I had another hour left on my journey. On the plus side the smell was non-existent.
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 12:09, Reply)
Thought I could get away with lifting one cheek and silently letting out a fart that had been building up for the past two hours. It was not silent by any means. It lasted about 20 seconds and was a high-pitched noise between a creak and a squeal. Sadly I had another hour left on my journey. On the plus side the smell was non-existent.
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 12:09, Reply)
'Ignore 2.0? How's that coming along there?'
'Not bad Rob, it'll definitely stop all the bullying, sniping and people looking like pathetic losers. Now, where's Fido gone?'
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 12:05, 1 reply)
'Not bad Rob, it'll definitely stop all the bullying, sniping and people looking like pathetic losers. Now, where's Fido gone?'
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 12:05, 1 reply)
I shared some experiences from my life on the internet
and some people were mean to me. It didn't happen on here, of course, because you're all LOVELY.
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 12:04, 2 replies)
and some people were mean to me. It didn't happen on here, of course, because you're all LOVELY.
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 12:04, 2 replies)
I thought it would..
make me really likeable and cool if I signed off all my posts with 'cheers'
cheers
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 11:52, 1 reply)
make me really likeable and cool if I signed off all my posts with 'cheers'
cheers
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 11:52, 1 reply)
Years ago I posted a genuine story on QOTW that in hindsight makes me look like a bit of a self-righteous tit and/or borderline paedo
and now people keep referring back to it and WAAAAHHHHH
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 11:45, 4 replies)
and now people keep referring back to it and WAAAAHHHHH
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 11:45, 4 replies)
I was having a bath, and before I emptied my bladder, thought I'd have a quick tug.
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 11:41, Reply)
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 11:41, Reply)
I thought it might be a nice idea for my son to wear some smart trousers to a Christening.
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 11:40, 2 replies)
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 11:40, 2 replies)
...
In a life littered with bad ideas, relentless failure and shattered dreams, I still find time to screw up on an industrial scale.
Last year, I spent a huge portion of my time and an even larger portion of my money, building Stoke's first genuine pizza-oven. My misguided dream was based around the 'if you build it, they will come' mantra of my favourite film - Field of Dreams. Unfortunately, nobody came and nobody cared, which when I think back isn't surprising. You see, no one wants to come to a decrepit ex-council semi in the shittest part of one of the shittest towns in the country - pizza oven or not.
So now I sit here alone again, finding solace in convincing a half-dead messageboard that I am in fact a multimillionaire international consultant, who invented the mobile phone.
Sometimes though, when I look through the kitchen window, beyond the bags of festering rubbish and my collection of local supermarket trolleys, sometimes, I see a raging fire in the oven, I see people, I see wine, I see friends and I see happiness. But as quickly as the tears cloud my eyes, the vision disappears and I return brokenhearted to my awful reality.
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 11:10, 9 replies)
In a life littered with bad ideas, relentless failure and shattered dreams, I still find time to screw up on an industrial scale.
Last year, I spent a huge portion of my time and an even larger portion of my money, building Stoke's first genuine pizza-oven. My misguided dream was based around the 'if you build it, they will come' mantra of my favourite film - Field of Dreams. Unfortunately, nobody came and nobody cared, which when I think back isn't surprising. You see, no one wants to come to a decrepit ex-council semi in the shittest part of one of the shittest towns in the country - pizza oven or not.
So now I sit here alone again, finding solace in convincing a half-dead messageboard that I am in fact a multimillionaire international consultant, who invented the mobile phone.
Sometimes though, when I look through the kitchen window, beyond the bags of festering rubbish and my collection of local supermarket trolleys, sometimes, I see a raging fire in the oven, I see people, I see wine, I see friends and I see happiness. But as quickly as the tears cloud my eyes, the vision disappears and I return brokenhearted to my awful reality.
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 11:10, 9 replies)
Gah.
In an effort to sooth my sore throat before an evenings heavy drinking, through the course of a day I went through five packets of sugar-free cough sweets (Warning: contains phenylalanine, excessive consumption may have a laxative effect.)
I then saw no issue in trusting a fart a few hours later.
I instantly forgot about the sore throat, on the account of having deposited a large quantity of liquidy shit into my underwear.
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 10:46, 8 replies)
In an effort to sooth my sore throat before an evenings heavy drinking, through the course of a day I went through five packets of sugar-free cough sweets (Warning: contains phenylalanine, excessive consumption may have a laxative effect.)
I then saw no issue in trusting a fart a few hours later.
I instantly forgot about the sore throat, on the account of having deposited a large quantity of liquidy shit into my underwear.
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 10:46, 8 replies)
Seeing what it would feel like if I put the gum I was chewing in my hair.
In my defence I was about 4 at the time.
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 9:50, Reply)
In my defence I was about 4 at the time.
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 9:50, Reply)
posting on /talk
in retrospect, if I'd actually looked even a few posts down that board, I'd have worked out that only truly special people are allowed to post without suffering a tirade of abuse from the resident trolls. This is also the main reason why qotw has declined. In essence, what made this site was funny is now just mildly amusing and soon there will be little left to come here for.
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 3:30, 35 replies)
in retrospect, if I'd actually looked even a few posts down that board, I'd have worked out that only truly special people are allowed to post without suffering a tirade of abuse from the resident trolls. This is also the main reason why qotw has declined. In essence, what made this site was funny is now just mildly amusing and soon there will be little left to come here for.
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 3:30, 35 replies)
We stripped my brother-in-law naked on his stag do and cable tied him to a lamppost with a "please help, i`m getting married" label.
In Soho.
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 0:42, 1 reply)
In Soho.
( , Fri 25 Jul 2014, 0:42, 1 reply)
Repost - Wreckheads in minor misjudgement
Over the last two years I have delved in and out of a massive drugs problem (thankfully now done with). The drug in question was mephedrone which you may remember as being the subject of one of the biggest tabloid moral panics the UK has seen for quite some time. For those that don't know, the drug is somewhere between MDMA and crystal meth both in chemical structure and also in terms of the subjective effects.
As you might expect, there were many days where going to bed simply did not happen, and many occasions where good judgement went on an extended holiday, because after all, EVERYTHING is the BEST IDEA EVER.
After the drug was banned in the UK I continued using it quite prodigiously, and this story concerns a time well after it had become illegal.
I have a female friend (we'll call her R) who is somewhat eccentric, she's got dreadlocks in which she keeps interesting things she's found, such as pegs, springs, coloured bits of plastic etc. She likes finding absurdly tasteless '70s dresses and wearing them with enthusiasm, and she pretty much refuses to wear shoes.
One Saturday morning, after a Friday night on the mcat had bled through into the next day, it was decided that we should leave R's house and sit in the park in the sunshine. R decided that she would take an ornamental sword with her, because EVERYTHING is the BEST IDEA EVER. I was apprehensive enough to suggest it might not be wise, but not so apprehensive that I didn't pose like Conan the Barbarian next to a car I judged particularly manly.
So four of us wandered towards the park, R with no shoes, "individual" hair and multi-coloured clothes flapping in the breeze. My girlfriend and I took a detour to our flat, and met up with R and the other gentleman outside the Tesco convenience store. It should be noted that at this point R was sitting on the pavement with her legs stretched out halfway across the pavement, bare feet on display and the sword leant against a lamppost. Saturday morning shoppers milled around us as she explained rather too loudly how the other gentleman had successfully stolen some red wine from Tesco.
As we walked towards the park, she mentioned how the police never bother stopping her for drugs or anything because she looks so unusual that they assume she can't possibly be a miscreant.
Or so she thought.
So there we were, 10am in the middle of the park with stolen wine, some other booze, at least a gram or two of mcat on us each and a sword proudly sticking out of the ground.
Imagine my surprise when a policeman suddenly appeared, and made a lunge for the sword before grabbing it and throwing it well out of reach. Imagine my further surprise when I realised that he had several friends with him, three of whom were in full riot gear waving bloody sub-machine guns at us.
My natural response to coppers is to go into full cooperation mode, because I am fully aware that being a cocky twat results in unfavourable treatment. In this particular incident I'm also starting to brick it about the recently-illegal and very highly witch-hunted drugs in my pocket. However, this is not R's reaction. She initially started saying that we were going to do a photoshoot involving the sword, then she tried to say that it was harmless and they were wasting their time as it wasn't even sharp.
I did my best to make apologetic faces at the coppers and make a joke of it, but R kept on about her sword, despite the three MP5s pointing at her. Much to my exasperation and growing panic, she was trying to stop them taking her sword due to its sentimental value.
Eventually, and after I had said to her very loudly that there was plenty more extent of the law available if the police chose to use it, she agreed to let them take the sword in exchange for an agreement that she'd be able to pick it up later.
As I understand it you can potentially get five years for carrying a bladed weapon and fourteen years for intent to supply class B drugs (I had quite a collection at home).
So yeah, very fucking lucky that day. :-)
( , Thu 24 Jul 2014, 23:26, 8 replies)
Over the last two years I have delved in and out of a massive drugs problem (thankfully now done with). The drug in question was mephedrone which you may remember as being the subject of one of the biggest tabloid moral panics the UK has seen for quite some time. For those that don't know, the drug is somewhere between MDMA and crystal meth both in chemical structure and also in terms of the subjective effects.
As you might expect, there were many days where going to bed simply did not happen, and many occasions where good judgement went on an extended holiday, because after all, EVERYTHING is the BEST IDEA EVER.
After the drug was banned in the UK I continued using it quite prodigiously, and this story concerns a time well after it had become illegal.
I have a female friend (we'll call her R) who is somewhat eccentric, she's got dreadlocks in which she keeps interesting things she's found, such as pegs, springs, coloured bits of plastic etc. She likes finding absurdly tasteless '70s dresses and wearing them with enthusiasm, and she pretty much refuses to wear shoes.
One Saturday morning, after a Friday night on the mcat had bled through into the next day, it was decided that we should leave R's house and sit in the park in the sunshine. R decided that she would take an ornamental sword with her, because EVERYTHING is the BEST IDEA EVER. I was apprehensive enough to suggest it might not be wise, but not so apprehensive that I didn't pose like Conan the Barbarian next to a car I judged particularly manly.
So four of us wandered towards the park, R with no shoes, "individual" hair and multi-coloured clothes flapping in the breeze. My girlfriend and I took a detour to our flat, and met up with R and the other gentleman outside the Tesco convenience store. It should be noted that at this point R was sitting on the pavement with her legs stretched out halfway across the pavement, bare feet on display and the sword leant against a lamppost. Saturday morning shoppers milled around us as she explained rather too loudly how the other gentleman had successfully stolen some red wine from Tesco.
As we walked towards the park, she mentioned how the police never bother stopping her for drugs or anything because she looks so unusual that they assume she can't possibly be a miscreant.
Or so she thought.
So there we were, 10am in the middle of the park with stolen wine, some other booze, at least a gram or two of mcat on us each and a sword proudly sticking out of the ground.
Imagine my surprise when a policeman suddenly appeared, and made a lunge for the sword before grabbing it and throwing it well out of reach. Imagine my further surprise when I realised that he had several friends with him, three of whom were in full riot gear waving bloody sub-machine guns at us.
My natural response to coppers is to go into full cooperation mode, because I am fully aware that being a cocky twat results in unfavourable treatment. In this particular incident I'm also starting to brick it about the recently-illegal and very highly witch-hunted drugs in my pocket. However, this is not R's reaction. She initially started saying that we were going to do a photoshoot involving the sword, then she tried to say that it was harmless and they were wasting their time as it wasn't even sharp.
I did my best to make apologetic faces at the coppers and make a joke of it, but R kept on about her sword, despite the three MP5s pointing at her. Much to my exasperation and growing panic, she was trying to stop them taking her sword due to its sentimental value.
Eventually, and after I had said to her very loudly that there was plenty more extent of the law available if the police chose to use it, she agreed to let them take the sword in exchange for an agreement that she'd be able to pick it up later.
As I understand it you can potentially get five years for carrying a bladed weapon and fourteen years for intent to supply class B drugs (I had quite a collection at home).
So yeah, very fucking lucky that day. :-)
( , Thu 24 Jul 2014, 23:26, 8 replies)
I was out hunting the other day
and I shot a deer... in the...
GUESS! GO ON! GUESSSS!
( , Thu 24 Jul 2014, 19:47, 21 replies)
and I shot a deer... in the...
GUESS! GO ON! GUESSSS!
( , Thu 24 Jul 2014, 19:47, 21 replies)
My brother and I
were huge wrestling fans in the early 90s and adored the late, great Ultimate Warrior. We both wanted to emulate his face paint but lacking paint decided that red, white and blue Aquafresh would be a suitable substitute. It was a great idea for the first 4 seconds.
( , Thu 24 Jul 2014, 19:03, 3 replies)
were huge wrestling fans in the early 90s and adored the late, great Ultimate Warrior. We both wanted to emulate his face paint but lacking paint decided that red, white and blue Aquafresh would be a suitable substitute. It was a great idea for the first 4 seconds.
( , Thu 24 Jul 2014, 19:03, 3 replies)
Question - is supporting the Tibetan struggle against Chinese occupation a bad idea?
Genuine question, as it was mentioned recently on here. I always took it as read that the ancient Tibetan nomadic way of life, their language, Buddhist monks, and national identity were being brutally oppressed, with it even being illegal to own a Tibetan flag.
Yet, I've some staunchly left-wing friends who describe all this as oppressive fuedalism, with the Chinese being a force for good, by educating the people etc. A claim was made in a thread here recently that the Dalai Lama covers up child abuse etc.
Can anyone elaborate? (Yeah, I know this thread is a bit serious. Sorry, blah blah. On topic, tho.)
( , Thu 24 Jul 2014, 18:15, 21 replies)
Genuine question, as it was mentioned recently on here. I always took it as read that the ancient Tibetan nomadic way of life, their language, Buddhist monks, and national identity were being brutally oppressed, with it even being illegal to own a Tibetan flag.
Yet, I've some staunchly left-wing friends who describe all this as oppressive fuedalism, with the Chinese being a force for good, by educating the people etc. A claim was made in a thread here recently that the Dalai Lama covers up child abuse etc.
Can anyone elaborate? (Yeah, I know this thread is a bit serious. Sorry, blah blah. On topic, tho.)
( , Thu 24 Jul 2014, 18:15, 21 replies)
This question is now closed.