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I just can't do power tools. They always fly out of control and end up embedded somewhere they shouldn't. I've no idea how I've still got all the appendages I was born with.
Add to that the fact that nothing ends up square, able to support weight or free of sticking-out sharp bits and you can see why I try to avoid DIY.
Tell us of your own DIY disasters.
( , Thu 3 Apr 2008, 17:19)
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My mother made cointreau from vodka, orange peel and sugar. You had to put it in a dark, warm place (what we call a hot press but you English types call the airing cupboard) and shake it every day.
She and her friends drank it on Christmas Eve. They got so pissed and so excited that my mum over-rocked on the rocking chair and fell off onto the Christmas tree, collapsing the whole damn thing and landing on the presents.
We like to remind her of that every Christmas, especially when we're putting the fairy on the top of the tree: "oh look ma, the fairy made it to the top of the tree, just like you didn't."
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 15:05, 76 replies)
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My parents also had a go at citrus spirits: pretty colours, but... oh, boy.
My mother is a very entertaining drunk...
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 15:12, closed)
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and she insists on curing her hangovers by eating homemade Knickerbocker Glory sundaes.
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 15:13, closed)
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I feel so left out that my parents were too busy working down t'mine to attempt to poison me.
Back in my day all this were fields etc...
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 15:16, closed)
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My mother drank a bottle of sparkling wine along with half a bottle of Kir, and then collapsed on the caravan floor before vomiting.
Bert's right, that sounds horrifically middle class.
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 15:20, closed)
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Middle class! My parents are poor alcos who couldn't afford the real deal so we had to scour the hedgerows for potential brewing ingredients! Once someone gave us a leftover can of Special Brew. That was a great treat, I can tell you. Never let anyone say that it was half-empty; that was half-full and glorious!
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 15:21, closed)
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You utter, utter bastard.
I got nothing but trips to Haven holidays in Cornwall, and an 18 hour drive, in the back of a Ford Sierra with my three siblings (though they've now multiplied to 8), up to Scotland (we were living in Germany at the time) to see my Nan when I were a lad.
Tsk.
*edit* I like the sound of your family chcb!
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 15:22, closed)
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we didn't get foreign holidays. We got to go camping in Ireland, which is nice, though not exotic as we lived in Ireland. When we got to our destination my sister and I played in the garden of the pub for about a week then we all went home.
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 15:24, closed)
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crackband, I didn't even know what Cointreau was until I was about 18.
Your family were posh pikeys!
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 15:26, closed)
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I'm nowhere near middle class, but the comparison of holidays reminded me that my dad would take us on shitty caravan holidays (typically 15hrs to Cornwall or some obscure spot in Wales - from Newcastle)
The bastard would then piss off abroad on a proper holiday with my stepmother without even telling us! I only found out once because their neighbour was feeding the cats when I phoned.
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 15:27, closed)
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sorrymrbertmonkeysex'sbackpromiseIwon'tdoitagainmrbertmonkeysex'sback
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 15:31, closed)
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made some DIY baileys a few months back...... double cream, vodka and something else which I suspect was instant coffee. Unfortunately, several margarita's had rendered her tastebuds inoperative and she said the curdled, lumpy mess was "nice" between fits of giggling :)
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 15:31, closed)
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I'm saying nothing.
Sorry: that should be "nowt". Or "t'nowt." Yes. That's it. That's how an echt prole speaks, isn't it?
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 15:33, closed)
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Holidays? Living in God's Own Country, every day was a holiday. Ahem. Especially when it snowed. In June.
Our first foreign jaunt involved an introduction to French plumbing, horse steaks, and meat cooked (contradiction?) blue. Oh, and my Grand-Dad semi-drowned.
On the bright side, it did mean a longer holiday as he was in whatever the French is for Intensive Care, so I was in Abbeville for Bastille Day and could watch the local urchins throwing fireworks under moving cars.
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 15:33, closed)
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You live in Gorton for Bob's sake. By definition, you can't be middle class unless you're lost or met an extremely persuasive estate agent.
Indulge your inner serf.
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 15:39, closed)
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Ahm no tellin' youse!
*braw, bricht, moonlicht nicht, the nichts*
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 15:40, closed)
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I don't think my ma had heard of cointreau either. Well, she may have heard of it but she'd obviously never tried it. If she'd ever had any she wouldn't have had to make it herself, I think.
My parents are a bit hippyish in a no money whatsoever, totally working class background kind of way (though Norn Iron doesn't really have the same class system as England). It means we escaped the chaviness but then again, I got all my clothes from the black bin bags of stuff my cousins were throwing out. Oh, and my mum once bought my school coat secondhand off my schoolmate who proceeded to tell everyone I was wearing a secondhand coat - her secondhand coat. She was a complete dick though, that's the only thing that bothered me, that I was wearing a dick's coat.
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 15:41, closed)
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CHCB! I'm sorry, you know I didn't mean it. I feel for you over the dick's coat though, you can borrow my jacket any time you like.
Saying that though, I wasn't even bottom of my family's pecking order for hand-me-downs, my mum used to put my old pants on our dog when she was in heat.
Still, she's happily living on a farm somewhere now...
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 15:45, closed)
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Ah, but Gorton's being regenerated, and the work has started since I moved there. Coincidence? Or am I making Gorton petit bourgeois little by little?
In fairness, my accent and my propensity to wear a suit got some funny looks to begin with...
(I love the area - but I'm hoping to make a tidy profit when I move on in a decade or so...)
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 15:47, closed)
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Your mum was in heat? She lives on a farm? You like goats? What?!
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 15:49, closed)
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Ahahahahaha!
You git. :D
*edit* your goats Kaol? I thought they were al's? Well, beggars can't be choosers.
*unzips*
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 15:50, closed)
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You think you lot had problems. I was working class during the week and middle class at the weekends. Seriously!!!
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 15:51, closed)
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Nah, Al has the infinite monkeys.
@BGB - How does that even work?
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 15:53, closed)
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'Splain how?
But I wanted to be your goat, Kaol, I only settled for Al's when my deep, strong, feelings for you weren't reciprocated.
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 15:53, closed)
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I have no idea why I pick on you with my rampant homosexuality.
Truce?
*holds out hand*
*hides chloroform behind back*
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 15:57, closed)
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My dads side of the family were working class northerners and we lived on a council estate in Blackburn, Lancshire. My mum's side of the family were well-to-do middle class from Germany. So during the week we had very broad Lancashire accents but still my class mates thought I was posh. When I went to see my maternal grandparents we were admonished for not speaking correctly and being common etc. Talk about torn in two directions. It's only attending Polytecnic that caterpulted me more towards being middle class. Well, that and when I started using balsamic vinigar in my cooking.
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 15:59, closed)
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You loan a man a monkey, and he goes and has sex with a goat and a clean shaven bioethicist instead.
Some people
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 16:00, closed)
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I almost cried with laughter when I read that message!
@BGB, broken family home = instant working classishness, unless the newly formed family use a double-barrelled surname.
Yours sincerely,
Bert Monkeysextington-smythe.
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 16:02, closed)
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a study carried out by some uni last year on class and surnames.
My surname?
outranked by 97% of the population; Irish peasant stock.
Nice.
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 16:07, closed)
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that I have a choice of surnames I can use! Yay me!
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 16:10, closed)
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But how many Irish peasants can rightfully claim to be the new friggin' messiah of their own church of self loving? And how many can claim to be a Whoopin' Hoopin' Paint Stripper? And how many have come up with their own range of interior decor colouration?
Not many I can tell you.
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 16:11, closed)
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YOu're right! You're so very right! I'm not outranked by 97% of the population, I'm unique(ish)!
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 16:12, closed)
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Well there's friggin'messiahWhoopin' Hoopin'PaintStripper O'Shaunessy for a start.
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 16:14, closed)
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that bitch? She couldn't turn on a light switch let alone a crowd of bored businessmen.
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 16:17, closed)
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I was just trying to make the girl feel better. You always have to go and bring up friggin'messiahWhoopin'Hoopin'PaintStripper O'Shaunessy and ruin everything.
Edit - that's the last time you get a clean monkey from me
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 16:17, closed)
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![](http://www.b3tards.com/u/3497826e9b094ac9132c/3wisemonkeys.gif)
Don't look, don't listen, don't get it in your mouth.
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 16:23, closed)
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and @CHCB ...she? So that's why I wasn't sore afterwards.
Well, you live and learn.
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 16:23, closed)
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Don't get it in my eyes, it stings like a b*stard
I'm not swallowing, that's just gross
and
Don't get it in my f***ing hair, it takes ages to wash it out!
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 16:24, closed)
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Yeah, I hate the way it goes all sticky and crusty and -
oh. yeah. I'm sure that's what it's like.
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 16:26, closed)
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just how long do you have to leave it in your hair for it to get crusty? It's not a natural leave-in conditioner you know!
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 16:29, closed)
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in the style of a readers letter from an *ahem* colourful magazine?
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 16:34, closed)
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is the new Cameron Diaz!
Only better in every way.
I'll get started on the remake 'There's something about crackhouseceilidhband' now, we'll have to include sex dungeons, wanking wednesdays, hair-spaffing incidents, and NO Ben Stiller.
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 16:36, closed)
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Don't forget to include Shit on your chest Saturday, it's my favourite day of the week!
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 16:39, closed)
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'al couldn't possibly lower the tone now, we've been at a fairly consistent low-level of smut for a while'
He goes and does it again.
Every. Time.
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 16:42, closed)
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I find that when it gets in your hair it can...
Nah nevermind.
Dammit, I go to take photos of some iron rollers that crushed a mans fingers, and I miss stuff again!
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 16:44, closed)
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in real life.
So I'll just stay on b3ta forever.
Although I'm thinking about a QOTW get-together in late May/early June. You'd have to bring your own monkeys though. And goats.
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 16:44, closed)
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and swim across the irish sea?
*edit* Bye Enzy! You taught me alot about myself today ;D
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 16:47, closed)
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nope, no swimming required. I'm currently a West Country Girl.
Bye, Enzyme. Off you go to find your dress. I have a nice pink one I can lend you, if you like? It has a wine stain on the front though because I was wearing it when drunk and I fell backwards through a door while holding a glass of wine.
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 16:49, closed)
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I for one would be mightily up for a meet-up.
Although London would be preferable... Due to lack of car.
*shrugs*
Someone has to come and be the sensible one at least...
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 16:52, closed)
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...a la Del Trotter? This I'd LOVE to see!
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 16:53, closed)
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'they' have trains from London to the hick towns of the South West. As hick towns go I live in quite a nice one and it has 2 (two!) cheap youth hostels in it, innit.
@Edmund - yes, and I didn't spill a drop. And I was partially attached to the bride's brother at the time. And only one person saw me fall, though dammit, they told everyone.
Edit: obviously I spilled a drop otherwise the dress wouldn't be stained.
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 16:54, closed)
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You are the Norn Irish Bridget Jones.
Al, you are the geordie Fred West :D
Kaol, you are the new irritating little man that sits next to the honey monster crimping in that new advert that I hate. ;D
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 16:54, closed)
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are you in Exeter? I'm trying to work out if I can be bothered to look up the YHA website to work out which town you're in :)
As for dress-spillage, have you ever been bodily lifted from the ground and spun around without spilling a drop (this image brought to you by our friends at Centrifugal Force.com)?
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 17:00, closed)
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Excellent, it shall be done, unless the date clashes with something more important, like my own funeral, or the birth of my cloned army of super-mutants (which is a story for another day).
@Burt: 10 points for the Fred West name-drop.
-10 points for not giving me a title...
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 17:01, closed)
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He might be one of those paedophile-immigrants I keep hearing about!
*edit* damn you Kaol! Damn you and your rules!
I'm going home for a bit of self-Myra Hindleying.
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 17:01, closed)
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I wouldn't know, sorry, I don't watch any of those crap Guy Ritchie fake saath east lahndahn films.
*Edit* It's gone quiet again...
*Parties like it were 1999*
2000 zero zero party over, oops out of time...
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 17:05, closed)
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I wondered how a cointreau story (even a genuinely entertaining chcb story) made 71 replies!
All this "shaaattt it youuuu schlaaaaaagg" talk has reminded me...
Defendant in the mags this week maintained he hadn't punched his partner, just "pushed his fist against her face".
In cross examination, he said "nah, cos if I punched 'er right, she'd be fuckin' spark out on the floor, innit? I mean, she saw this *waves enormous tattooed fist*, and she KNEW she was gettin' it".
I was in a courtroom full of people, and *i* felt scared!
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 17:46, closed)
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Those... those... weirdos keep hijacking all my posts. Completely unwarranted! They write rude things and even I am shocked.
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 17:48, closed)
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A thousand apologies for allowing the thread to drift ... please forgive your most humble servant and devotee to the cult of CHCB-ness...
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 18:49, closed)
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Oh yes, so it was, who would have thought it.
Incidentally, if there is a west country meet up, June is better for me as I'm a bit busy in May.
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 20:47, closed)
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Here am I spending 'quality time' with my offspring (quality time also equates to screaming at them as we're all being forcibly ejected from Sainburys as we've managed to break one of the Self Scan tills) instead of 'working'.
Meanwhile you lot are discussing homemade alcohol, the class system and getting together with animals in the West Country.
Homemade alcohol - my dad once tried this when I was a child. I didn't have any and no funny anecdotes are to be had.
The class system - I was middle class during the week - private convent school. Working class during the weekend - policeman's daughter - I was on a scholarship to the school.
Animals in the West Country - sign me up.
( , Tue 8 Apr 2008, 22:41, closed)
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