The Beautiful South
I once managed to get, along with a group of friends, Access All Areas passes to a Beautiful South gig. That's not the embarrassing bit - they're awesome live.

The aftershow party was even better - a fairly small room with tables surrounded with dustbins full of ice and cans of Red Stripe, all completely free. Already a bit merry, we decided to get our fill of the goodies by drinking as much as we possibly could. There were lots of predictable jokes... "I'll get this round in lads", "This one's on me" etc. etc. Not exactly comedy gold, but we were young, and a bit skint, and it was FREE BEER, dammit.

J, the only one of our group wise to the ways of gigging and backstage parties, wobbles off to get another round of cans, and returns looking slightly puzzled, staring at my access all areas pass (it was a fabric sticker you had to stick to your clothes).

"My pass looks different to yours," he slurs.

I look at mine. Nothing strange there. I look at his. His has a scribble over it. I look closer. It's been signed. By Paul Heaton.

"How did you manage that?" I probably shouted at him. We were, at this stage, at an advanced stage of refreshment.

"He's just over there..." he motions, and I see Paul Heaton mingling through the crowd.

"RIGHT." I slap my hand on the table, and stride confidently towards him, most likely in a slight zigzag, taking out a couple of chairs with me.

I walk up to him. He's talking to a friend, so not to be so rude as to interupt, I just stand a bit too close to him, stare at him, and when he and a friend share a joke and laugh, I laugh too. Loudly.

He turns to me. Oh good, I've got his attention. "GreatgigPaul, you'refuckinggreat" I say, shoving my hand in to his, and from the bemused look on his face, begin to think this might not have been such a good introduction. "Sorry to interupt, I just wanted you to sign my pass..." I continue, a little more careful to appear so completely pissed now.

He breaks into a big grin. "Sure, have you got a pen?".

"No, haven't you?!" I reply incredulously. He's just signed J's pass. What an idiot.

There is a silence that seems to last an hour. He clears his throat. "Erm... no."

I stand there, frozen on the spot, OHSHITOHSHITOHSHIT. I've basically gone up to the most important man in the room, barged into his conversation, shouted at him, and only just realised it's probably social etiquette to find a pen before demanding an autograph.

Oh, and I'm on the verge of collapse through drinking so much, and he's a reformed alcoholic.

More awkward silence. He's waiting for me to do something. I don't know what to do. He laughs, pats me on the shoulder, and says, "I'll go and find one."

He disappears off, comes back after a few minutes with a marker, and signs my pass. "Take it easy," he says, obviously amused at the scene I've just caused. I turn around, and EVERYONE is looking.

I sheepishly return to the table, picking up a couple more cans of beer along the way to blot out the relentless barrage of mockery I'll receive when I return to my friends, with my face on fire.

Never meet your heroes, kids.
(Sloppy Giuseppe, Thu 4 Dec 2008, 0:28, Reply)

The woes of me.
Just a case of verbal dyslexia.

Me and my friend are both pretty computer and internet savvy. And he was telling me about a website he created from scratch.

What I meant to say was "Link me?"

What I actually said was "Lick me?"

He just gave me this weird look and started laughing before I realised what I said.

Then I reminded him about wanting "Popporn" (Popcorn).

We're a pair of nutters we are. We just giggled like lunatics for ages. But still - pretty cringeworthy.
(Poppet some assembly required., Thu 4 Dec 2008, 0:01, Reply)

Im pretty drunk but this just happened
I was at a pub (hence drunk) it was practically empty and I was the only female in the gaff.

Anyway Ive got IBS and today I needed the toilet in the 'bottom' way and decided that it would be a perfect time to go because no-one would ever know I am a lady doing a poo. (As far as Im aware people of the female persuasion hate using public toilets for this matter) Anyway no sooner had I started, a hen night (on a wednesday, why?) rolls in! Lucky me! I keep my cool in the cubicle and wait until they go and sort my good self out then leave and head straight to the bar as if nothing had happened.

'Some fucking lass is doing a shit!!!!!'

Oh well
(i should have joined myspace, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 23:29, 3 replies)

ouch
I work in a hair salon with everyone's station in the middle, as a result, I can't see everyone I work with. One night it was pretty slow, and my coworker was doing a wax, when I hear a crash from her general direction. We're all pretty accident prone, so I shout across the room "What are you doing? Breaking stuff over there?" only to find out that her very large customer had fallen through the chair. I died a little on the inside when I realised what happened.
(nibjet, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 23:23, 1 reply)

Goggles
In our kitchen we used to have a photo board which pretty much covered one whole wall. Hundreds of photos, literally, many funny, or just with a story behind them. So when bringing new friends/boyfriends/anyone of any importance into the house for the first time this was always cause for comment.

So which lovely photo do my parents choose to point out (without. fail. every. time.)? Baby photos? Hah, I wish. Could it be the one of me as a bridesmaid, with adorable curls? The first day of school? No. Oh then happy family times at the beach? Getting there... but still no.

It was the one in which, at about 6 years of age, I am standing with my back to the camera, proudly nude, but for a pair of goggles. Across my bum cheeks.

Ha. Fucking. Ha.

P.S. My mum was a teacher at my school, and very friendly with most of the staff, including the Head. Many a dinner party saw me scarper after hearing the words "And here's TinyCat's bottom!!"
(TinyCat, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 23:21, 3 replies)

Is it just me
Or has anybody else began to just accept fanny farting during sex?
( Methylene Blue - electrohead, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 22:28, 14 replies)

Dog's foot and condoms
My big dog, Rocky, once cut his foot badly and needed stitches.

The vet warned me not to let the dressing get wet, so I decided to cover it with a bizarre knobbly condom (a pack of which I'd bought in a '10p each or 6 for 50p' fleamarket deal. Why? There was nothing else of interest to make up the 6 and I'm stubborn.)

My kids were mainly young teenagers so I ingeniously demonstrated the correct application of condoms by carefully rolling one onto Rocky's injured paw.

They found this both educational and disturbing, and later would ask, 'so... to avoid pregnancy, we roll a condom onto the dog's foot, yeah?'

The youngest, aged about 11, begged me to take the condom off before I took Rocky back to have his stitches out.

However, on the big day my other dog was run over and had to be taken to the vet's too, and in the panic we forgot the condom.

The youngest, anguished over the other dog's accident, came with us, and so

a. realised that we'd forgotten to remove the knobbly condom
b. was present when the vet saw it
and
c. saw the vet invite all the other vets and vet nurses in to admire my brilliant idea.

She was mortified. I don't think she's ever quite got over it.
Dogs were fine though.
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 21:48, 1 reply)

And I never had sex ever again...
This is one of those stories that sounds like something that isn't true, but unfortunately did happen. Even more unfortunately, it happened to me.

Now, we've all had those exes. The ones with whom you split up reasonably amicably, and therefore still see on nights out. Nights where the talking together becomes drinking together, becomes touching, becomes kissing, becomes going back to their place...

There's a time and a place for this sort of encounter, of course. The time is not University, when everyone you know is living in shitty accommodation, with flimsy walls and flimsier locks, and perhaps sharing a house with someone who is good friend of yours. A good, devout Christian friend. With views about this sort of thing.

Certainly, if you're going to picture this, picture yourself drunk, and tied up in a very revealing position. Imagine you haven't locked the door. And your devout housemate bursts in, yelling 'Guys, I need a lift to the hospital! My dad's just died!'





Now imagine failing to keep a straight face.

Oh. God.
(That's Just Not Funny, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 21:25, 3 replies)

piss on me!
Went to see Killing Joke in london a few years ago. Whilst chatting to various other Jokers in a pub before the gig, the guy who I had bought my ticket from squeezed past me and said as he went by "just nipping for a quick piss, back in a mo"

I dont know why I said this, or what it even means, but I replied with "have one on me"!

Im glad he didnt.
(Lionel Tiger, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 21:21, 1 reply)

wanker!
Whilst living in the glorious capital, i discovered something of a taste for a combination of amphet and weed when drinking. I seem to have a fairly destructive personality when it comes to substance abuse, and if there's porn in the equation then even more so. A mate and his wife had decided to go away for a few days but couldn't find anyone to look after their pet house rabbit. I stepped up to the mark on the basis that he was an internet tech who had a blisteringly fast web connection in the days of 28k dialup. I turned up to housesit with a rucksack full of powders, weed and vodka and a credit card ready to access some of the worlds finest filth.
When I finally woke up late afternoon the following day, covered in copious amounts of my own jizz and feeling like I had been beaten up, I realised that my furious all night tugbinge had been conducted in a well lit living room front of open curtains facing onto a busy main road. How I didn't get arrested is beyond me, but the two old dears standing at the busstop couldn't stop staring.
(kaptinkurtz, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 21:08, 1 reply)

Just about five minutes ago
I was walking through the office to go ask one of our Sales guys a question, and I passed by one of the Admin women talking to one of the Parts Sales guys about the Christmas tree we put up yesterday. I heard her say, "Well, its backside was uneven, so we tied it up."

As he and I were walking down the stairs I muttered to him, "Sounds like someone I dated once."

I said this within the hearing of our receptionist.

Fucksocks.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Wed 3 Dec 2008, 21:04, 1 reply)

Stranglers
My old band supported the Stranglers once. This was just after Hugh had left and they were playing a bunch of smaller venues in order to break in the new singer. After the show we blagged our way into the backstage room to meet them.

So there I was, sat with 2 of my bandmates sharing a spliff with JJ Burnell. Pretty cool, huh? Well, being somewhat shy and also a little awestruck by the whole thing, I actually hardly said a word, whilst my 2 bandmates chatted easily with JJ.

When it came time for us to leave, we all filed out, shaking hands with the band as we went. I was last to leave but I was determined that I was going to have at least *some* kind of conversation with JJ before the opportunity was gone forever.

So as I shook his hand, the only thing I could muster up was -

"great bass sound, er...mate"

He just turned and walked off.

(still, at least I got to play through JJs bass rig, which was fackin awesome!)
(Lionel Tiger, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 21:04, Reply)

Don't drink in the place you work
Sadly, I seem to keep forgetting this important piece of advice....

1) Easter holidays at uni, I stayed to work. On a sunday night off, decided to go out drinking with one of my few friends had also stayed behind. After much tequilla-based cocktails and tequilla, decided it would be a good idea to go to where I worked.... Woke up the next day on the floor outside my bedroom door in halls covered in blood and mayonnaise.... Apparently I had got hammered in the club where I worked, made a fool of myself, been put in a bin, sexually harrassed a doorman, bought my friend chips with mayonnaise as a thank you for driving me home. Whilst driving home, had insisted to said friend that he should eat his chips while I held the wheel for him. He told me to throw the chips out of the window. So I did.

The window was shut.

The blood was my own fault, dropped a pint glass whilst getting a drink of water in my kitchen, then proceeded to walk over the broken glass....

And cherry VKs just destroyed the bath....

2) A few weeks ago I had a rare Friday off, so what started out as a bottle of wine at home with my housemate turned in to going to the SU club on campus where drink were £2 for 2... ended up in the club where I worked (different one), much Jagermeister was consumed, moshing partaken... little memory apart from throwing up in a bin and crying hysterically at the end of the night with all the doorstaff laughing at me. I am now known as "Bin Girl"... The Shame.
(timewarper, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 20:51, Reply)

Free Porn
I accidentally (no, really) got given free internet porn.

Yay! 30 days of ... meninpain.com

It made me cringe. And cry a little. I have the fear.

blog.23x.net/40/free-porn-no-thanks.html
(jaredearle There is no spork., Wed 3 Dec 2008, 20:50, 1 reply)

A good old fashioned wanking story.
In my second year of university I lived with 3 chaps in an charming end terrace house, in a chav infested section of one of the UK's finest garrison towns.

One of my housemates, who we shall call Karl (for that is what his mother decided on) had the unfortunate disposition of being a total social retard.

This retardation manifested itself in many forms, the total inability to hold a conversation with anyone that did not revolve around BCAFL (the British Collegiate American Football League). Not even the NFL or something, UK universities. The fact that he breathed like a rutting pig. The fact that he used to hang around like a bad smell, bemoaning his boredom as if it were my job to entertain him and most critically to this tale, the complete inability to knock on bedroom doors before entering.

Now it’s only fair to say that this house did not exactly contain 3 studs who used the university experience as a source of constant fresh poontang. 4 chaps who suffered from; ugliness/fatness/shyness and social retardation in various forms are never going to be fighting off the totty with a shitty stick. So much so that as far as I am aware only two ladies were ever bought back for the bumping of the uglies, both were mine and bother were hounds at best.

This lack of vaginal based stimulation meant there was a fair amount of self abuse going on in that house and as such knocking before entering any bedroom was only good manners. Karl did not seem to get this, many a time he would stroll into people’s bedrooms and be told “Jesus Karl I could have been wanking” but it did not stop him.

What did stop him was one fateful night where I had decided a Sherman was in order. I cracked open some internet delights and proceeded to commit poultrycide frantically.
BANG.
In walks Karl.
“Jesus Karl, I’m trying to have a wank” I said calmly. (Honestly I was not embarrassed I was annoyed) Having my back to the door, he could only take my word for it.
“ha-ha, yeah right” he said clearly disregarding my word as he sauntered over to my bed and sat down so he was no perpendicular to me.
What could I do, I sat there, swollen throbbing pecker in hand while my housemate sits there and gets an eyeful.
I look at him and the horror on his face as he realized I wasn’t lying.
“I’m… I’m sorry” he stammered as he scrambled out cringing like the tard he is.
He learned to knock after that.

I'm not appolgising for length, you should have fucking knocked!
(Bam Bam McPenis will change all this when he is fuhrer., Wed 3 Dec 2008, 20:48, 2 replies)

My sister......
....is not the sharpest knife in the drawer so to speak.

Two particularly embarrassing moments (for her :)) spring to mind:

1) England playing Brazil in a friendly a few years ago, my sister asking very loudly in a very crowded pub if this is the start of Euro 2004 and me pointing out equally loudly that the 'Euro' in Euro 2004 is short for Europe, and Brazil is in South America. She was so embarrassed she went home early, unluckily for her she worked in said pub at the time and was laughed at regularly by the lads for a long time after.

2) Me and my sis, along with my other sis, shopping (an all day shopping and catching up thing as girls tend to do). We're on the escalator in the shopping centre, and me and my other sis start walking up them like stairs. My sister looks very confused and asks very loudly, 'why is your step moving but mine isn't?'

We still mock her for that every time we're near an escalator, bless.
(flyme, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 20:42, Reply)

Hard things
In my gap year I worked in an office as an office junior. My desk was surrounded by a load of lovely guys who were all in their 40s, but great fun, lots of banter. Anywho, being the "rebellious" teenager that I wasn't I got my tongue pierced. Not the best idea when you have to answer the phones. Anywho, it freaked the guys out when I took it out... until one day I came out with immortal line... "It feels strange not to have something hard in my mouth..." Having realised what I was saying as I was saying it, I proceeded to go bright red and was laughed at more for my colour than my accidental innuendo. Cringe.
(timewarper, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 20:40, Reply)

I once went up to do Open Mic at the Comedy Club
at The Bunny Club in Ruddington.

I told loads of jokes about ginger people and realised that the audience was full of a family of gingers. Who owned the club. NROFL. I still cringe about it today.
( Pope Shax XIII uses Visio for picture editing, does it show?, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 20:20, 2 replies)

I got loads of these.....
.....but the main one I can think of right now involves my very embarrassing mother.

I'm 13, my sis is coming up to 15 and my mother decides we need 'the talk'. All very well and good, we knew what went where and all that well before then.

The embarrassing part is that she does this in front of 3 of her closest friends, and proceeds to demonstrate to me and my sis how to put on a condom, using a banana.

Apparently both of us went so red that our embarrassment lit up the room, and it was laughed about at many family parties (including in public at my sis's 18th) for many years to come.

I'm one for the lady-loving these days, and my sis has been married for a just over a year, has one kid and a baby on the way so sadly mother your efforts were wasted anyway. :)
(flyme, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 20:08, 1 reply)

The horror
I went to an exhibition in London a few years back featuring the artwork of the anarchist punk band Crass. It involved pictures, on the wall like, the screening of their film "Christ - The Movie" and a question and answer session on the stage.

I had expected my mate to show up but he hadn't so being on my own, I had passed the time by getting wankered at the bar.

Come the question and answer session, I was slumped on a chair in the corridor. There were only a few movable chairs in the building and they needed another chair on the stage so Gee Vaucher or was it Penny Rimbaud, I'm too young to know, came over to me and asked nicely if he could take the chair.

"Where am I gonna sit" I drunkenly slurred.

So I basically told a member of Crass to "fuck off and find your own chair" at their show.

He didn't say anything, just smilled and walked away.

He is decent.

I am a cunt.
( stopmeandslapme Cometh the hour, cometh your mum, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 19:50, Reply)

Brother's mate
He is a scruffy "stoner" as the yanks would say.

He was in a club where a girl came up to him and said "you look like a monkey".

"I look like a monkey?" he responded and continued with "you're black!"

Realising what he'd just said, he ran until his legs hurt.

Then hid.
( stopmeandslapme Cometh the hour, cometh your mum, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 19:33, Reply)

A guy I used to work with (W)
He was running the upstairs bar on the 1st floor of a listed building in Swansea from time to time. One particular night a new girlie had called in and W had chatted her up rather easily as she got steadily more drunk. His shift finished early and he sneaked her upstairs.
The 2nd floor of the pub was then a set of flats which provided a shared kitchen and seperate male/female bathrooms. Only residents and staff had access to that floor.
So he checks to see if the coast is clear and takes her into one of the bathrooms, bolting the door behind them. He sits on the toilet seat and drops his pants; she drops on her knees and sucks him off.
Just after he's dropped his load in her mouth, she leans back and looks up at him, then says the immortal words "Does this mean we're an item?"
Now don't get me wrong, they've just commited a very personal act amongst themselves. They've both engaged in adult and consensual relations and both enjoyed it greatly. But there's something about a girl who you've just properly met that afternoon who'se got your spunk dripping off her bottom lip and asking that question that kinda.....oh I don't know...kills the moment a bit.
"No" said W, who pulled his pants up and aptly legged it out of the building.

W is not me, he did laff like fuck telling me this though
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 19:33, 2 replies)

At work
one of the chaps has been seperated from his missus for a few months and has started to use a dating site. He'd been in touch with a woman and was going to meet her. I overheard him saying to another chap "I've reached stage two".

"You've felt her tits" I quipped.

The other chap laughed and said "at our age, stage one is you date, stage two is you get married, stage three is you have kids..."

"and stage four is you go to their funeral" I blurted.

Why this came into my head I have no idea but the chap I was talking too happened to have been off the previous two days because his wife was in hospital.

So it came out "and stage four is you go to their funeral errr *cough* errr buy a house *cough* oh is it lunch time already".

I ran away.
( stopmeandslapme Cometh the hour, cometh your mum, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 19:26, Reply)

Cringeworthy Dad
Aged sweet sixteen, I was over at a new boyfriend's house for the first time. We sat in his bedroom, chatting and listening to our Britpop CDs, before deciding to venture downstairs to the kitchen for a snack.

We were met in the kitchen doorway by his Dad, who uttered the immortal words "Awright son, let's have a sniff o' yer fingers then".
(Brandy Bolland, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 18:38, 7 replies)

Last night
As you know, I'm in a graduate degree program for nursing. Last night my study group (there's 8 or 9 of us, all told) had a study session. I didn't pay attention and when I arrived, discovered it was for "Assessment" i.e. physical exams.

At least I had showered, but was wearing heart spangled underpants and a white granny bra. I am also the oldest by 10 years and fattest by far with some spectacular abnormalities. I didn't want to chicken out in front of my friends, so I grit my teeth and put on the hospital gown and laid down.

Cue my friends running in every 10 minutes to see some "New" anomaly on my sad body. The shame! The horror!

The best was when Beth yelled "Oh my god!" loud enough to alert the neighbors when she saw my hernia.

sigh
(TDub Nunc id vides, nunc ne vides on, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 18:27, 5 replies)

This one time
I was working at a guitar show at Wembley and asked this guy loitering about if he played guitar? It was Lenny Kravitz.

Lenny was playing Wembley that night and decided to just look around the guitar show beforehand. I never recognised him but everyone else had. Never lived that down.
( BadBadman saw an incorrect comma placement on, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 18:20, Reply)

Cringing on someone else's behalf
It's concerning my (soon to be) ex-wife so I'm not fussed about sharing it here.

Getting down and dirty one time, I was lapping away like a thirsty dog and digging tunnels with my fingers when I felt her buck under me (good job, if I do say so myself) and so moved my head away to inspect my handiwork.

Staring up at me from the pristine white bed-sheets was a small, almond shaped brown stain. Yup, the dirty cow had shat herself while I was being a cunning linguist. She freaked out and rushed to the bathroom to get cleaned up while I (surprisingly) laughed like a Hyena.

No wonder my finger slipped out quite easily...
(RVD420 has his world coming down on, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 18:18, Reply)

I have just found out
that I am going to have to teach Sex Education to year 5 in the spring.

I'm going to have to remind myself how it all works.
( Mrs Entity is in hiding., Wed 3 Dec 2008, 18:16, 6 replies)

Two! Although looking at the subject of this QOTW that's nothing to be proud of :(
As i am still a mini-b3tan, i am studying for my GCSE's. As they are now rather close and, thanks to the wonders of b3ta i have done no work at all for the past few years this week has been spent studying German and writing filthy songs. Strangely this story involves the former:

Yesterday, a fine tuesday if there ever was one, i took a break from my labourious studies and went down to the local one stop to purchase some jaffacakes. Having chosen the 99 pence one-stop variety I went to the counter and excanged my shiny currency for the orange-and-chocolatey goods. "Danke schoon", I grinned merrily. My face dropped as I realised I had bought my jaffacakes in...
German.
Thats not the horrible faux pas though. I looked at the till-girl.


She was polish.

I should be banned from one-stop.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

And if thats not enough, the second forks pass of the day:

I was happily texting my rather lovely girlfriend, when i realised i needed some good solid advice from my older namesake (yes, my best friend does relly share my name!). the text went something like this:

"Hey mate, how are ya?
Dont wish to bother you
but after an intense
session of finger
related fun with Miss
Name I wondered if you
how to get the smell
of catholic vagina off
of your hands, as I use
public transport. "

sent to none other than the lovely Miss Name. Its a miracle We're still together.

Length isnt an issue. I have big hands.
( UseAName Because you cant get the bends if you muff dive., Wed 3 Dec 2008, 18:14, 6 replies)

I'll get my coat, my p45 and any dignity I may have left.
So I'm 18, possibly 19. Working in my first IT job in a manufacturing site. There's 3 of us who 'do' IT in the computer room. Next door there's two women 'the girls' who do various clerical tasks including data entry. One's early fifties and probably doesnt need the job but hey, its a nice place to work. The other, 'T', is late twenties - married already and happens to be quite nice. Which makes this story all the worse.

T leaves, she's pregnant after all. She's not coming back either. She's off to do a proper job - be a mother.

Fast forward, 2 years. T is back. 12 months earlier the baby died - cot death. Think, this is when cot death was unheard of in the public domain. Can you imagine the heartbreak. I could. I probably shouldn't have. The poor woman. The poor baby. The poor baby.

How does a 20yr old 'lad' try to talk about that subject? And in work? You realise that you don't really know the woman that well in the first place. Its just a skin deep 'work' relationship, like so many we have.

Weeks go by. Each day we talk - always about work issues. And as we'd say now - that 'elephant' was always in the room. At least that's how I felt. Eventually I came to the decision that the last thing she wants after all this time was to be reminded of that tragic incident. The BABY should be allowed to rest in peace.

One day, workmen are drilling down on the ground floor. We're up on the second. They're drilling into the support columns of the place and causing a low, weird variable howling sound all over. Depending on where you're standing, it drowns out conversation - at least until they reposition the drill and you get a few seconds to say what you need to before the howl is back. Oddly it reminded me of whale 'speech'. But so low that any sort of whale that made it would have to be on its last legs. [pause - while burning shame sensation once again rises up my throat]

Popping next door to see the 'girls', I had my 'sounds like a dying whale!' line ready, 'funny' guy that I was.

In the 10 steps between rooms a thought ocurred to me thus:
"Dont talk about 'baby' - thats in the past. Dont emphasise the word DYING in your 'joke' and don't, under ANY , I mean ANY, in fact there are NO circumstances permissable, get confused and say 'dying BABY' No. NO. NOT EVER. J.U.S.T. D.O.N.T.'.

I popped my head in, the drilling ceased for a moment. The girls made a 'What the hell is that noise eh?' gesture... the second hand ticked.....
And now , ladies and gentlemen , boys and girls, if I've painted the picture well , you KNOW what I went on to say, and to my eternal cold,stark,utter,shame 'in a JOKEY manner'.

Each time I think of it, breath chokes in my throat.

cringeworthy? and the rest.
(d2d2t, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 18:11, 2 replies)