Desperate Times
Stranded 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?
( , Thu 15 Nov 2007, 10:10)
Stranded 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?
( , Thu 15 Nov 2007, 10:10)
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Mashed potatoes
I was so drunk and hungry round a friends house one night, I decided to make mashed potatoes.
The problem was that I forgot to turn the gas hob off, and left a tea towel on it. Luckily the smoke woke my friend up, and he put out the fire in the kitchen, opened the window and went to bed.
I woke the next morning on the sofa, to be faced with a very angry semi-friend. (Half friend I mean, he wasn't sporting a partial erection).
"Tell me honestly, and please just for once be honest, did you or did you not drunkenly make mashed potatoes last night?"
"Honestly? No, I swear. I couldn't find any crisps so I just went to sleep".
"Right that's it, you're never coming back here again".
Sherlock had rumbled me, because:
The kitchen floor was covered in potato peelings, water, and a saucepan;
There was a trail of mashed potato from the kitchen to the sofa I was lying on;
Next to me was a bowl with mashed potaoes in;
I had a bit of mashed potato in my hair;
I was holding a potato masher.
Moral: One who is mashed, trust not with a masher. Or something.
( , Mon 19 Nov 2007, 15:29, 1 reply)
I was so drunk and hungry round a friends house one night, I decided to make mashed potatoes.
The problem was that I forgot to turn the gas hob off, and left a tea towel on it. Luckily the smoke woke my friend up, and he put out the fire in the kitchen, opened the window and went to bed.
I woke the next morning on the sofa, to be faced with a very angry semi-friend. (Half friend I mean, he wasn't sporting a partial erection).
"Tell me honestly, and please just for once be honest, did you or did you not drunkenly make mashed potatoes last night?"
"Honestly? No, I swear. I couldn't find any crisps so I just went to sleep".
"Right that's it, you're never coming back here again".
Sherlock had rumbled me, because:
The kitchen floor was covered in potato peelings, water, and a saucepan;
There was a trail of mashed potato from the kitchen to the sofa I was lying on;
Next to me was a bowl with mashed potaoes in;
I had a bit of mashed potato in my hair;
I was holding a potato masher.
Moral: One who is mashed, trust not with a masher. Or something.
( , Mon 19 Nov 2007, 15:29, 1 reply)
His powers of deduction are incredible.
Ask him where's Maddie the next time you see him, apparently a few people are worried.
( , Mon 19 Nov 2007, 16:28, closed)
Ask him where's Maddie the next time you see him, apparently a few people are worried.
( , Mon 19 Nov 2007, 16:28, closed)
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