My dad took my brother and I to the pub
whilst I was still a student at university. After an evening of ale and chit chat, we walked home. At this point, my dear father pointed out that, as a student, I should be nicking traffic cones (he does love his stereotypes); I wasn't keen (I had one back at my uni digs, and the novelty had worn off pretty quick), so he swiped one from a nearby roadworks and plonked it on his head. He kept it on for quite a while, before confessing that he now had a number of spiders scurrying around on his head. Silly sod.

Nowdays, he just gets legless at home. Something of a turning point in a young man's life when he has to pick his wasted parent off the floor, and cart them off to bed, I feel.
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Wed 2 Mar 2011, 19:17, 2 replies)

Sympathy reply.
With bonus hugs. And no chunks.
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Wed 2 Mar 2011, 22:41, closed)

Thanks, man.
It feels good to finally unburden myself of this tragic experience. Just glad I found an appropriate outlet.

I'll have to phone up the Samaritans and tell them a joke, next week.
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Wed 2 Mar 2011, 23:07, closed)