Well.. I'm no good at this, but here goes.
When I was a wee tucker I had the priveledge of living of a small farm in Devon, nice quaint setting and from there I have my first experiences of growing up. We had a one eyed pony called Pickles, upon whom I learnt to ride. The fucker had a knack for throwing my 4 year old self off his repugnant mutant pony back, and then trying to bite me to death. All slightly terrifying.

We also had a very big corrugated steel framed barn in which we used to keep the hay. As many others here will be aware from a young age this is as exciting to climb as foolishly endeavouring to climb a post communist tower is to a drunken Russian teenager.

Well one day little me is left unsurpervised for a while, so what does little me decide to do? He decides to climb the enormous stack of hay in the barn, all the way to the top. Standing on said bales I could just about reach one of the joists holding the roof up. So gamely I grab hold and decide to swing. THEN OHHH GERR FUCK! (probably not the exact words that crossed my mind at that tender age) Then. WAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH WAAAAGHHHH!!!! MUM! DAD! HELP! There was no fucking way I could get my feet back on the bales.

HANGING. 30 FUCKING FEET. ABOVE A CONCRETE BARN FLOOR.

Mum is first on the scene. She is panicking and try to keep me calm at the same time whilst trying to get my Dad to get A fucking ladder!!

Whilst the panick ensues my older brother climbs up the back of the bales, the side I had climbed up and gently stretches out, grabs my collar and yanks me back to safety.
I'll save the rapist goose for a seperate post.
( skeltonator Needs some new daps., Wed 30 May 2012, 22:52, 2 replies)

Geese are violent bastards.
I think it was Eddie Izzard who described Wasps as "skinheads of the insect world". Geese are skinheads of the poultry world.
( Ken Oath, Wed 30 May 2012, 23:07, closed)

See above.

( skeltonator Needs some new daps., Wed 30 May 2012, 23:30, closed)