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?
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Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Thu 15 Nov 2007, 10:10)
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Pipe AND slippers?A good pal of mine, and myself, a long long time ago had had a bit of a night out in Sheffield. It was so long ago that I recall it involved much alcohol on West Street at the Mailcoach, and from there, via The Hallamshire Hotel (when it had live bands) and onto Rebels.
Thats just aged me, hasn't it?
At the end of the evening, food was procured from the Grand Potato (for all your potato based late night food desires) and we trotted off back to my pals abode for some well earned food, and maybe a spliff or two.
It was only at that point that we found we had no rizlas. A couple of alternatives were tried. Toilet paper did NOT stand up to the test. Then we hit on the masterstroke. Post It Notes (tm). They'd obviously be perfect. They even come with a gummed edge.
But sadly no.
It wasn't to be.
The sheer foulness of burning Post It Notes (tm) was just too hideous to bare.
Thank goodness for the ol' trusty meerschaum :-)
My pal has asked for this story never ever to be told. So I haven't. Um. But he shall remain nameless.
Though some call him Mr Twiddly.
Or Trevor.
(, Tue 20 Nov 2007, 11:16, Reply)
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