Childhood Ambitions
HoratioFellatio writes:
"At the tender age of 13, my little hairless clockweights squirted their first dose of testosterone into my blood stream. The result was a mental alarm clock shouting, 'I NEED TO LOOK AT GIRL'S FANNIES.' I reasoned that if I became a Gynaecologist, I'd get to look at fannies all day.
"It was only when I reached the age of about 16 and learnt about STD's and yeast infections that I realised I'd only ever get to see diseased ones."
Tell us about your childhood career ambitions and the moment at which your aspirations crumbled into a pile of broken dreams.
( , Thu 29 Mar 2007, 12:02)
HoratioFellatio writes:
"At the tender age of 13, my little hairless clockweights squirted their first dose of testosterone into my blood stream. The result was a mental alarm clock shouting, 'I NEED TO LOOK AT GIRL'S FANNIES.' I reasoned that if I became a Gynaecologist, I'd get to look at fannies all day.
"It was only when I reached the age of about 16 and learnt about STD's and yeast infections that I realised I'd only ever get to see diseased ones."
Tell us about your childhood career ambitions and the moment at which your aspirations crumbled into a pile of broken dreams.
( , Thu 29 Mar 2007, 12:02)
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A Biker
I always loved seeing motorbikes as a lad and my dad would always love to drag me away from them (I think one of his best mates got killed on one). As soon as I got a propper job after leaving home and educating myself I enrolled on a direct access course, got my license and proceeded to the nearest bike shop with my pay cheque.
I definitely had some great years and journeys on my bike but my interest started to wain because of:
a) British weather.
b) Spanish drivers.
e) British drivers.
c) Bristol traffic.
d) About half an hour to get your gear on and off, lock/unlock bike, lock/unlock garden gate to find out that you have left your earplugs inside and could really do with a shit before setting off.
e) Tankslappers.
f) putting your back out while heaving the damn thing around.
g) And finally, I went along to see about joining a Bike club in Swindon. I was the only one who turned up on my bike. The members I met seemed to have limps, pins, plates and worst of all seemed to relish the memory of 'pegging out naked on the ground' any new members who went along to one of their biker/camping weekends. These were grown men age 40+
Never did go back.
( , Thu 29 Mar 2007, 14:41, Reply)
I always loved seeing motorbikes as a lad and my dad would always love to drag me away from them (I think one of his best mates got killed on one). As soon as I got a propper job after leaving home and educating myself I enrolled on a direct access course, got my license and proceeded to the nearest bike shop with my pay cheque.
I definitely had some great years and journeys on my bike but my interest started to wain because of:
a) British weather.
b) Spanish drivers.
e) British drivers.
c) Bristol traffic.
d) About half an hour to get your gear on and off, lock/unlock bike, lock/unlock garden gate to find out that you have left your earplugs inside and could really do with a shit before setting off.
e) Tankslappers.
f) putting your back out while heaving the damn thing around.
g) And finally, I went along to see about joining a Bike club in Swindon. I was the only one who turned up on my bike. The members I met seemed to have limps, pins, plates and worst of all seemed to relish the memory of 'pegging out naked on the ground' any new members who went along to one of their biker/camping weekends. These were grown men age 40+
Never did go back.
( , Thu 29 Mar 2007, 14:41, Reply)
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