When I was a little girl...
...My mum and I went shopping. To Asda. And she bought me this lovely box of crayons. 100 of those lovely ones in all sorts of colours.

Lovely, I thought.

In the kitchen of our house, there was a hole in the floor.

Needless to say, being the little cow that I was, I put anything and everything I could get my hands on down that hole. Sweeties. Chocolate buttons. More sweeties. And yes, those crayons.

Mum comes in to find that I have dropped all the crayons save for one blue one down the hole, never to be seen again.
(Spy is dead., Tue 8 Jun 2010, 15:53, 11 replies)

?
why not the blue one?
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Tue 8 Jun 2010, 15:55, closed)

My landlord sent some really dodgy looking builders round
to fix a floorboard at the bottom of the stairs.

They got it up but then one of them dropped his hammer down the hole.
"Fuck," he said, "I'll never see that again."

The look of childish joy on his tattoed face after I'd gone down to the cellar, retrieved it and given it back was something to behold, "CHEERS MATE!".

I felt like Androcles and the Lion and we were friends for a while, till he lost a hand trying to burgle a pub and the landlord shot him through the roof. He killed himself in prison, daft bastard.
(twattybanjo, Tue 8 Jun 2010, 16:09, closed)