Desperate TimesStranded in a hotel in an African war zone with no internet access for two weeks, I was forced to resort to desperate measures. Possessing only my passport and the clothes I stood up in; and the warning "You can catch it shaking hands with a vicar out there" ringing in my ears, I had to draw my own porn in order to preserve my sanity.
Alas, it all came out looking like Coronation Street's Audrey Roberts, but, as they say, any port in a storm.
What have you done in times of great desperation?
(
Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Thu 15 Nov 2007, 10:10)
« Go Back
Bin Dining OutMany years ago and I was a labourer on the building sites in London.
I'd just paid every penny I had on a deposit for a flat and, after two taxi fares to move my stuff, was utterly broke. I handed over all my cash to the letting agency on a Friday evening and collected the keys. I'd asked at work for a sub to tide me over until the following Friday but was refused - thanks to a cunt of a gaffer who hated my guts - he'd fucking give the alcoholic, never do more than a two day week fuckers a sub though, the cunt. I was facing no food for the Saturday and Sunday until I could get into work on Monday morning where the site canteen would allow me two square meals a day on the slate until I got to Friday lunchtime and my week's pay.
I was wandering along the street, being assaulted by foody aromas when I spotted a bloke in front of me. He exited a Pizza Hut, carrying a large pizza box and a paper bag. He opened the box, looked in, made an 'ugh!' face, and ditched the box and the bag in the nearest bin. Without even pausing, I was straight over to the bin, grabbed the box and the bag. Inside the box was a large pepperoni pizza and the bag contained garlic bread. Saturday was going to be okay. The pizza and garlic bread were fine so I don't know why matey didn't fancy them.
Sunday morning and I was up early wondering how to feed myself for the day. I reckoned I'd never get another stroke of luck like the day before but set off in search of a free meal in any case. As I wandered along, past all the still-closed shops and what have you, I passed a pub. Lord be praised! There was one of those sealed plastic bags containing washed & peeled carrots and potatoes propped against the door of a closed pub. I grabbed the bag and legged it only to pass a Greek shop which had a large bag of pitta bread and several pints of milk outside so I swiped them as well a selection of Sunday newspapers and made good my escape. So, I had a large plate of mash and carrots and a bread & butter pudding for dessert that wouldn't win me any prizes.
(, Fri 16 Nov 2007, 13:47, 1 reply)
So to summariseYou were skint, so you stole some food from local businesses.
Fair enough.
(, Fri 16 Nov 2007, 18:04, closed)
« Go Back