What was I thinking?
CactusZack tells us: "I stopped dating a girl AFTER she got breast implants. For what reason I do not know, and I still kick myself for this." Tell us about inexplicable decisions that still haunt you.
( , Thu 23 Sep 2010, 11:58)
CactusZack tells us: "I stopped dating a girl AFTER she got breast implants. For what reason I do not know, and I still kick myself for this." Tell us about inexplicable decisions that still haunt you.
( , Thu 23 Sep 2010, 11:58)
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The Amazing Shitting Cardboard Box!
I remember one time years ago, I was about 10 or 11 years old and a couple of my mates and I were just making our way home after a kickabout in the park.
It was a cracking summers day during the school holidays, we were all in a jovial mood and life was good. I was, however, bursting for a shite and was in a bit of a rush to get home. We were passing a private car park behind a sports hall when I spotted a massive oblong cardboard box.
That was when I had my 'brainwave'.
"Watch this!" I said to my mates.
The plan was to pull the box over my head and crouch inside it, take down my breeks and skegs, curl out a perfectly formed steaming turd, do myself up again and then move away from it whilst still inside the box. In my head I imagined that this would be the most spectacular thing my friends would ever see in their lives, this marvellous image of a shitting box!
Well, it didn't quite work out that way.
After lowering the box over myself and dropping my jeans and Ys, I squatted and let go.
It was utter fucking carnage.
My poor wee arse exploded and slurrys of stagnant shite splattered the inside and outside of my pants and jeans. It was all over the backs of my legs, my socks and my trainers. And the smell! Sweet Jebus, that fucking smell. And I hadn't even thought about what I was going to wipe my arse with!
I threw the box off in a panic and stood there speechless looking at my pals, my denims half up/down with most of my bottom half covered in my own waste. They stared back with looks of shock and terror, then after realising what had just happened they erupted with laughter and glee. Bastards.
I somehow made it home without drawing too much attention to myself and told my mum that I had fell in dog shit. Thankfully she didn't pursue the issue of how dog shite had ended up on the inside of my jeans and all over my pants.
Not my brightest moment.
( , Sun 26 Sep 2010, 0:58, 9 replies)
I remember one time years ago, I was about 10 or 11 years old and a couple of my mates and I were just making our way home after a kickabout in the park.
It was a cracking summers day during the school holidays, we were all in a jovial mood and life was good. I was, however, bursting for a shite and was in a bit of a rush to get home. We were passing a private car park behind a sports hall when I spotted a massive oblong cardboard box.
That was when I had my 'brainwave'.
"Watch this!" I said to my mates.
The plan was to pull the box over my head and crouch inside it, take down my breeks and skegs, curl out a perfectly formed steaming turd, do myself up again and then move away from it whilst still inside the box. In my head I imagined that this would be the most spectacular thing my friends would ever see in their lives, this marvellous image of a shitting box!
Well, it didn't quite work out that way.
After lowering the box over myself and dropping my jeans and Ys, I squatted and let go.
It was utter fucking carnage.
My poor wee arse exploded and slurrys of stagnant shite splattered the inside and outside of my pants and jeans. It was all over the backs of my legs, my socks and my trainers. And the smell! Sweet Jebus, that fucking smell. And I hadn't even thought about what I was going to wipe my arse with!
I threw the box off in a panic and stood there speechless looking at my pals, my denims half up/down with most of my bottom half covered in my own waste. They stared back with looks of shock and terror, then after realising what had just happened they erupted with laughter and glee. Bastards.
I somehow made it home without drawing too much attention to myself and told my mum that I had fell in dog shit. Thankfully she didn't pursue the issue of how dog shite had ended up on the inside of my jeans and all over my pants.
Not my brightest moment.
( , Sun 26 Sep 2010, 0:58, 9 replies)
I don't see this.
There's very little white-hot anti-Cafflick rage. I would say none at all really.
( , Mon 27 Sep 2010, 11:06, closed)
There's very little white-hot anti-Cafflick rage. I would say none at all really.
( , Mon 27 Sep 2010, 11:06, closed)
Didn't Brookmyre reference b3ta in his last opus?
Things are coming full circle. Or maybe Helmut is Brookmyer.
( , Mon 27 Sep 2010, 11:14, closed)
Things are coming full circle. Or maybe Helmut is Brookmyer.
( , Mon 27 Sep 2010, 11:14, closed)
He refenced b3ta in All fun & games
but used b3tan phrases in earlier novels.
He clearly needs to get out more.
Actually, I have all his books - sure, he's no Rankin when it comes to capturing dialogue, and subtlety isn't his strong point, but I do find him very funny. The cock-drawing scene in A Big Boy Did It never fails to make me laugh.
( , Mon 27 Sep 2010, 14:41, closed)
but used b3tan phrases in earlier novels.
He clearly needs to get out more.
Actually, I have all his books - sure, he's no Rankin when it comes to capturing dialogue, and subtlety isn't his strong point, but I do find him very funny. The cock-drawing scene in A Big Boy Did It never fails to make me laugh.
( , Mon 27 Sep 2010, 14:41, closed)
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