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This is a question Pointless Experiments

Pavlov's Frog writes: I once spent 20 minutes with my eyes closed to see what it was like being blind. I smashed my knee on the kitchen cupboard, and decided I'd be better off deaf as you can still watch television.

(, Thu 24 Jul 2008, 12:00)
Pages: Latest, 23, 22, 21, 20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, ... 1

This question is now closed.

In response to
dchurch's Little Britain post, I think the experiment is how much mileage can the BBC get out of half a dozen catchphrases.
(, Wed 30 Jul 2008, 20:21, 1 reply)
stoned and stupid
when i was a fair few years younger i had a little flat of my own and used to go clubbing. many friends would come back to get stoned and drink some more.one day a fair few came back its was about 3am and we were feeling very childish and one mate passed out not a good thing to do with drunk/stoned people around it started off rather innocently at first.we put a sweet on this guys head his name we will call him chris as that was his name .we did this to see if he would wake up he didn't. then we got my makeup lipstick, nail varnish you name it it was all over him.then we hit the condiments salt,mayo then flour time .one of the guys was pointed at his face going he" don't know he don't know" whilst giggling like a girl we put a mini traffic cone on his head and placed things in it pens ,etc still he didn't wake up after about two hours of piling basically crap all over him we slowly made our way home and me to my bed.

cue me waking up to chris moaning in the bathroom trying to get nail varnish and gunk off his face he then was so late for work he had no choice but to go in to work he said the boss would find it funny.I didn't see him in the club for the next few weeks but he was deemed a legend and his nickname was now covered in crap chris.

I saw him at about 1am at the club crying into his beer as not only was everyone now calling him covered in crap chris all night but he was fired from his work for being late and arriving in such a state as to say i made a swift exit so chris if you are out there im sorry.
sorry for length and drunkness .
(, Wed 30 Jul 2008, 20:08, 4 replies)
Tailgating Ford Ka
What is the top speed of a Ford Ka that is three foot off your rear bumper in the fast lane of the A1 ?

101 mph

Once you've overtaken the pack of lorries and pull back over, how annoyed does the girl driving get if you then drive at 101.1 mph as she is trying to overtake.

Absolutely bloody furious, I learnt some new words that day. I think me smiling and waving didn't help.

I hate people tailgating.
(, Wed 30 Jul 2008, 17:54, 14 replies)
If you put a few drops (no more than three) of the stuff on a flat surface, set fire to it, and then occasionally put another drop nearby, you can get a lovely Vietnam-style napalm bombing effect. For extra realism, put small paper 'villages' in the path of the bombs, and occasionally quote lines from Apocalypse Now.

This was also discovered in a chemistry lesson. Great days.
(, Wed 30 Jul 2008, 17:37, Reply)
The Mrs is talking to me again,
she text me to say that she'd like me to tease her nipples, so I sent a text back saying, 'Your nipples are silly little areola heads!'

She's now sulking again, how was I to know she meant sexual teasing, not the playground variety?
I'll never learn. :C

EDIT a treaty has been reached, if I buy her shoes, all will be forgiven.
(, Wed 30 Jul 2008, 17:27, 7 replies)
Self- medication, McGyver- style
Back in the days when men were men and sheep were nervous, i got myself a souvenir from the public swimming pool. Between two of my toes, the skin started doing things you shouldn't see before breakfast (or only if you plan a diet). It even stank.
Here curiosity came in: Could i cure this myself by sterilization?
I poured some grain alcohol over it which of course burned like, well, like grain alcohol in a festering wound. Felt good afterwards. Repeated that twice a day and it was gone after three days. Whee! Alcohol made my day again!

BTW, don't spill grain alcohol over your private parts. You'll want a shower very, very quickly, i told you.
Apologies for bad english. Length? Go stick your head in a pig.
(, Wed 30 Jul 2008, 17:00, 6 replies)
In the FHM a few years back
they had an article about this trick where by you catch a few blue bottle flies, put them in the fridge until they hybernate, then do weird tricks/experiemtns with them.

Apparantly you can glue a few flies to one match stick using their backs. Then, when they wake up, will fly off.#

Or have two matches with a fly stuck to each one. On each fly stick a broken match stick to their legs. Then hold them against each other. They should (when they wake up) start to immitate a fight like in gladiators.

Another one is glueing 2 match sticks together in a cros and then gluing all 4 ends with a fly on each end. Then throw it into the air . it should fly.
(, Wed 30 Jul 2008, 16:27, 3 replies)
[Various] Assorted Pointless Experiments
This QOTW was made just for me, but some of my experiments are so utterly pointless that they've probably just been forgotten about completely. So I've racked my memories and here's what I remembered from the deep and dark archives of the mistaspakkaman research institute.


[Physics] Does something good happen when you stick things in plugholes?

One Wednesday afternoon aged 5, I thought electrical wall sockets were mysterious. Things go in them and they can be turned on. Somehow, I had gotten hold of a piece of wire where both ends went into a headphone socket. Headphone plugs fit nicely inside Continental wall-sockets, so I wondered what would happen if I stuck both ends into both holes of a plug.

Result: A blue spark flew out and the electricity in the house stopped working. Not realising how a fuse had saved me from 220 volts of electrifying goodness, I had more immediate things to deal with - my angry mother (although she may have been more glad I was still alive). That night, we had our dinner by candlelight, as we couldn't get the lights back on. In fact, we enjoyed the candlelight dinner so much that we started a new tradition at our house - every Wednesday, we'd have dinner by candlelight.

Conclusion: Fuses are your best friends. And besides, as any regular reader of QOTW knows, there are better ways of spending a Wednesday afternoon. And do have a candlelight dinner afterwards.


[Biology] Can girls wee standing up?

Aged 12, it was something I was curious about. Not having the right *ahem* apparatus to test this out myself, I would need to find a subject. Being shy, I was unable to bring this up, but I came up with a plan. At the time, me and my dad were on holiday staying in some kind of bed-and-breakfast place with shared toilet facilities. So what I did was to sneak into the girls' toilets and lift up the seats. The idea being that any women entering would assume the previous occupant of the stall had done it standing up and this might encourage them to try doing it standing up themselves, rather than it being done by some 12 year old boy feeling disorientated from the sudden activation of his pituitary gland. The acoustics of the place were such that I could hear what was going on without being in a suspicious position.

Result: Sadly, I always heard someone putting the seat down on entry. However, it was only many years later that I discovered this.

Conclusion: The Internet rocks!!!


[Psychology] Does subtly imitating someone make them fancy you?

In my final year on my school bus, I was feeling bored. On top of that, I had a crush on two of the girls on the bus and was too shy to do anything about it. This had been going on for some time and I was getting fed up of it. For various reasons which I won't go into I'm saving for a future QOTW, I had just gotten into the habit of wearing a Walkman (we had proper Walkmans back in them days - Discmans were around but were too seedy for my tastes).

So there was this new girl on the bus and she too was wearing a Walkman. I remembered reading somewhere (possibly me sneaking a read of my sister's 'Just 17' magazine) that subtly imitating someone would subconsciously flatter them and cause them to fancy you. She was sat just a few seats in front of me and I could see how she moved and rotated her earphone-clad head. In a fit of boredom, I copied her movements exactly.

Results: Nothing happened. No chatting up, no marriage proposals, no attempts to initiate the baby manufacture process. However, there was one major flaw in my method. This was because she was facing away from me most of the time (and only occasionally glancing sideways to look out the window). As for me, it did not cause me to fancy her either, but it did offer a brief mental distraction.

Conclusion: Inconclusive.


[Psychology] How are women affected by their menstrual cycle?

Noticing that various girls I knew changed their personality without warning, I decided to see if the patterns followed the menstrual cycle. I knew that the menstrual cycle was approximately the same length of time as the Lunar orbit, so I installed a Lunar calendar on my computer that showed what the phase of the moon would be at any given time. By comparing girls' moods with the current phase of the moon, I could see if I could notice any patterns.

Results: Seeing that I was actually nerdy enough to think this way, it meant that I didn't get enough contact with my 'subjects' to properly test this hypothesis.

Conclusion: I needed to get out more!


[Psychology] Am I strange enough to automatically get the blame if something strange happens?

At one of my jobs, we had this system where there was a pile of sweets/chocolates etc. and you took one and the company had faith that you'd pay for it by putting in some money or an I.O.U. in a small nearby plastic cup. Just to see what would happen, I put in a worthless banknote with a high numerical value from a certain east-European country in the plastic cup.

Result: At first, I heard nothing and I thought that was that, but several weeks later, we got a company-wide email from a shocked receptionist asking why we had done this (she was so shocked the e-mail was in all-capitals). This lead to an e-mail flamewar from two of the bored employees that had somehow descended into a discussion on Scottish banknotes. I got away Scott free (I did pay for my chocolate bar and the banknote was absolutely worthless, even though the denomination was four digits long).

Conclusion: I hadn't yet established my unusual-ness. Perhaps I should have posted my previous experiments to the office-wide e-mail system beforehand.


[Psychology] Does sending a postcard once a year alter someone's perception of me?

I once spent a night at a B&B in Blackpool. After having come back in from a night on the town and not yet wanting to go to bed, I went down to the B&B's bar and stayed around a bit. Feeling a bit overly-excited, I decided to let out my weird imagination in its unrestrained form. This was too much for both the other guests and the proprietors and they just couldn't handle my unorthodox personality. I was getting frustrated with their closed-mindedness, and my weirdness was causing their heads to explode.

After I left, I had a sudden urge to send them a postcard a few days later. Since then, I've been sending them a postcard once a year. Currently, they have no means of contacting me. This experiment is ongoing (even though I've not sent a postcard for 3 years). I'm not sure where I want to go with this one. If anyone has any ideas for where to take this, the mistaspakkaman research institute would like to hear from you.


OK. That's my experiments. Does the mistaspakkaman research institute get a grant?

Previously... | Next...

(, Wed 30 Jul 2008, 15:46, 4 replies)
Pest Control - Experiments that were never carried out
Or The Arrival and Subsequent Undignified Demise of the Mouse in Flat 6.

This is another tale from the flat-which-was-basically-a-loft-conversion that I mentioned in my story on Page 2. This is about the time we had our first mouse.

My nervous and slightly neurotic flatmate was the first person to see it, and bless her, I have never seen a full-grown woman move so quickly from a slouch on a sunken-in sofa to a quivering, cross-legged perch on the nearest table in order to get away from our resident rodent.

Of course, the first thing we did was to call the landlord - "Ok, I'll send my handyman round with some traps," said he. I wasn't overly keen on the idea of traps - I know they're supposed to kill the mouse quickly, but they don't always kill it that quickly and can also be rather messy, so we started concocting ever more fabulous ways to kill our visitor - especially since the poison we'd put down didn't seem to be working.

1. Electric fence. I had a lot of broken guitar strings and access to a physics lab full of electrical bits and bobs. If I charge up a large capacitor with a very short time constant, then have exposed wires (the strings) either side of some bait, mousey can wander up, and go head first into the food, completing the circuit and thus discharging the capacitor through mousey. Abandoned because I know nothing of the electrical properties of mice, and also because my flatmates were convinced I'd electrocute myself instead.

2. Acid baths. For some reason, the previous tenants had left a bottle of concentrated sulphuric acid in the bathroom sink. One of my slightly-less-caring flatmates suggested we put little trays of the stuff in places where the mouse seemed to be regularly visiting, perhaps with some bait, and then its feet would be burned off before it sank like a melting iceberg into a pool of foul-smelling acid. Shelved for being downright horrific.

3. Large weight. Some sort of mechanism akin to the board game Mouse Trap, but which culminates in a large, heavy object being dropped on mousey, instead of the family-friendly plastic cage. We decided we were probably moving into the realms of fantasy by this stage. Similarly with a mechanism to trap mousey in the microwave.

And in the end, after we'd ruled out these options, the landlord's handyman appears with...glue traps.

Oh great. So we're going to stick the mouse to a piece of cardboard. And then what? We're on the top floor of this building with no garden into which we can release it.

So, the night mousey finally clattered onto the trap, I had to quite solemnly wrap up the mouse-and-glue-trap assembly in a newspaper and belt it with a hammer. Then we took it up onto the roof and burned the lot. At least he got a decent Viking funeral.

This story has since been relayed to many people - most of the women in my department now think I'm some sort of rodent-murdering monster, and that's even after I omitted our proposed "alternative methods" for catching the mouse...

Apologies for length: I'd like to think the poor little bugger didn't suffer on the glue trap for as long as you have in reading this.
(, Wed 30 Jul 2008, 15:18, 18 replies)
Tricked out sardine, crying child, upset old lady.
I had the 'pleasure' of spending the last 7 years of my life working for the wonderful establishment of Tesco. Most of which was on the counters, as lowly assistant and eventually as manager.

Being stuck in a dead-end job with an
over-active imagination can help one come up with many fascinating, yet pointless experiments.

One such resulted in a small child almost being blinded and some poor innocent old dear being yelled at, whilst the guilty party (yours truly) got away scot-free!

My experiment was to see how many people I could trick into thinking the fish on the fish counter were still alive.

I ran a wire underneath the ice, attaching one end to my foot and one to a sardine.

Wiggling my foot whilst serving customers gave the impression the fish was not dead yet, and flipping about trying to escape it's morbid situation.

Most people stared for a few seconds before shaking their head and wandering off. One old dear got upset and tried to find a bucket of water to save the sardine.

But then my innocent little experiment took a turn for the worse.

Que 'Timmy', an inquisitive little 6 year old with a love for fish. He loved coming to the supermarket to marvel at the colourful motionless little critters on the ice. Suddenly, one of them started to violently flip out, making its way rapidly toward him across the counter.

He fled, terrified.

Face first into a basket held by a passing old dear.

It would not have been so bad but his eye made contact with the corner of said basket, letting out a (satisfying!) squelch! Choas erupts, as Timmy's mother yells at the old lady for carelessly gouging little Timmys eye. She then turns her anger onto little Timmy, whacking him around his already sore head for being so stupid as to lie to her and tell her the (now motionless) fish were alive and trying to get him.His screams could be heard from the carpark.

In the background, Roddimus slowly exits stage left, trying not to die of laughter.

I may not have finished my experiment, but at least I could take delight in ruining 3 people's day! Oops!

Pop! First post after 5 years lurking!

Length, etc.
(, Wed 30 Jul 2008, 14:52, 6 replies)
12 and stupid...
and then again 10 years later.

The blue and yellow BMX from before very well could have been mine, aged 12 my dad got it out of the paper, I was suddenly uber cool - never before had my stomping ground seen such a brightly coloured dervish of metal and plastic.

There I was, BMX stunt master, riding down a hill in paralel form, my cohorts a kimbo...

Dave: I bet you can't ride down here with your arms crossed -

Me: arms crossed, I could do that whilst knitting, you bafoon...

* crosses arms places on the handle bars.. success....

half a second later my teeth are rapidly approaching the tarmac... the rest is a bloody mess - how I didn't loose teeth I will never know...

but I can safely say, riding with crossed arms on a bmx 4 sizes too large down a hill is important.

10 years later, and I have my own house, my own money, and access to lots and lots of things that my 12 yearold brain could only wish for.

Most notably, alcohol and fireworks... Bored with the standard bangers, I decided to take one appart take out the solid cartridge, grind it into a powder, and make smaller ahem... explosives!!!

Unfortuantly I got drunk, got bored, so inside the house, I found that the powder ignites really easilly, and makes a nice little 'pooof'...

Bigger and bigger the piles got, till something sparked off my main pile - into my face, all over my hands - my hands turned into single large blisters, my eyebrows and eye lashes were gone - and I lost the deposit for the burns all over the room...

I told everyone I burnt myself on the oven...
(, Wed 30 Jul 2008, 14:45, Reply)
I made the mistake so others don't have to
Very hungover one morning I decided to find out whether my electric shaver could remove the white shit coating my tongue.


Blood everywhere but the most disturbing thing was the amount of chopped up pink meat I found behind the foil.

I use a blade now.
(, Wed 30 Jul 2008, 14:37, 3 replies)
Can I borrow your chapstick?
More of a bet than an experiment, but it did make for interesting results...

I spent some time in Afghanistan last year, which among other things can at times be pretty boring.
During a tea break one day, bored out of my skull, I offered to eat my chapstick for a single US dollar, an offer taken up promptly by the guys I was with who put in a dollar between them.
Much hilarity ensued as I forced down the rose flavored goo, but unfortunatly I overlooked three important things:

1) being quite waxy it stuck to my teeth, mouth and tongue, meaning I could only taste wax for about 3 days.

2) The stuff chapsticks are made of is a reasonably efficient laxative.


3) The chapstick cost me $1.50.

So in effect I paid 50 cents to spend the afternoon doubled over on the bog, scraping my tongue with my teeth to try and remove the taste.

Luckily it was only about an inch long....
(, Wed 30 Jul 2008, 14:29, 4 replies)
Anal sex with the dog
What was I thinking?? She doesn't even like normal sex.
(, Wed 30 Jul 2008, 14:21, 7 replies)
My gym once gave away free samples of 'sports massage oil'.
I took some home and treated Mr Quar to a nice back rub.

Things went a little further, as they sometimes do, and the oil was expertly applied to parts of the body not normally associated with Olympic events.

Unfortunately, we hadn't realised that 'sports massage oil' is actually 'oil with added red-hot properties'. The effect was like sitting in an acid bath.

No wonder those athletes run so fast.

Kids, stick to baby oil.
(, Wed 30 Jul 2008, 14:20, 1 reply)
what would jaegermeister and fruitshoot taste like?
sort of like a still pimms with mint
(, Wed 30 Jul 2008, 14:08, 1 reply)
What happens if you tie your dogs favourite toy to a washing line?
He twangs himself over a 6ft fence
(, Wed 30 Jul 2008, 13:46, 4 replies)
Probably bin dun.
But heres a pointless experiment for you all to try. (Well all you drivers anyway).

Try breaking with your left foot instead of your right foot.

Some other cool stuff to try in cars when bored:

In an underground car park, try yanking the hand break up to lock your back wheels up. See if you can get a lovely loud echoing squeel.
Also do this on a 30mph road as youre driving past people. Guranteed to make heads turn :)

When driving down a motorway, play boing ball in your lane with the white lines. See how long it takes to get pulled over by the police.

Now this one takes some precise timing and good breaks. But you can make the driver of the car infront of you shit bricks or even run a red light if you fly up behind them and slam breaks on at the last second. When done perfectly youre guaranteed a chuckle :)

If you drive a dark blue volvo estate. Put on a vis jacket, and you'll be suprised at how many speeding motorists suddenly slow down around you :)

Cars are great for experimenting with :)
(, Wed 30 Jul 2008, 13:19, 32 replies)
I don't know why
but the only ideas for stories I've thought of for this question seem to be about sex. I clearly don't do enough non-sex based experimentation, oh well.

About a month ago, the Mrs and I were doing the thing she does when she puts her mouth around the Sexmonkey goo-producing-meat-sticktm. There was some squelching, some slurping, a little bit of moaning (from me) and finally, a little swallow.

Soon after Mrs Sexmonkey had consumed a certain quantity of my alabaster tubby custard, the conversation turned to the taste, and how eating certain foodstuffs is supposed to improve this somewhat.
I'm not sure if this was Mrs Sexmonkey's subtle, lady-like way of saying, 'Your spunk tastes like a rancid Frenchman's fetid faeces,' but I set about a plan of action anyway.

In the three weeks that followed I ate pineapple chunks soaked in their own juices every day, I drank pineapple juice with every meal, sometimes between meals too, and in the few days leading up to my next visit from Mrs Sexmonkey, I worked my way through three whole fresh pineapples, on top of all the juice and tinned fruit that I was eating.
I don't even particularly like pineapples, they're too sweet and sticky, and I changed my usually quite poor diet to a much more healthy one, full of fruit and vegetables, so as not to ruin my pineapple-based experiment.
My piss became very sweet-smelling, and I was sure that my experiment would produce a pleasingly positive conclusion.

Mrs Sexmonkey returned, and we engaged in our usual bedroom habits...

*sound of squeaking bedsprings and moaning*

*quick grunt*

'Well....?' I turned to my lovely Mrs.
'Well, what?' she replied, confused.
'Did it taste any better? -I've been practically living off pineapples since I last saw you,' I asked, hoping that my man juice had been magically transformed into a sweet-flavoured paste, which I'd literally have to fight women off in the street to protect.

'Meh. Doesn't taste any different...' she answered, without even a hint of pleasure in her voice.

'...anyway, aren't pineapples only supposed to improve the taste of a woman?'

'Oh, cockbiscuits.'
(, Wed 30 Jul 2008, 12:55, 24 replies)
Today's Experiment...
Q. How fast can I drive down a 2 mile stretch of dead straight roman road, with my Mum in the car, before she starts to grip the door handles tightly and inhale sharply while trying to ask me to slow down?

A. About 82mph.

Admittedly, there was a small dip in the road which caused the suspension to bottom-out briefly. I think my mother may have shat at that point...
(, Wed 30 Jul 2008, 12:53, 3 replies)
BMX Bandit
I was about ten or eleven, and I'd had my best-ever, blue and yellow BMX for a good while. During the school summer holidays that year, me and a few friends were showing off as young boys with bikes are wont to do.

I decided to see if I could ride while standing on the seat. With my mates watching, I picked up a little speed and, gripping wildly onto the handlebars, I climbed via the frame onto the seat. Result! I was a wheeling dervish, a trickmeister, god of the street.

I wondered if I could take it one step further. Could I let go of the handlebars?

I took a deep breath and released my grip, standing tall and grinning at my friends.

Cue me, flat on my back on the concrete, my bike freewheeling upright off down the hill. I was a bit dazed, but no blood, not a bruise or scratch to show for my efforts. The only lasting reminder was the ribbing I got from my mates anytime I tried tricks after that.

I wish I could still bounce like I did as a kid!
(, Wed 30 Jul 2008, 12:44, Reply)
An interesting experiment in which you can all participate
I went to the filming of 'Mock the Week' last night. I'd really recommend it, it's 3 hours of stand-up comedy from 7 top-class comedians, and it's free.

The best thing about being in the audience is seeing the best material that usually doesn't make the cut, not because it isn't funny, but because it's too offensive/libellous - for example, any joke that implied that Max Moseley was a Nazi, or in fact any references to Nazis at all, was cut from last night's recording for legal reasons, despite it being the funniest stuff of the evening.

So anyway, the experiment:

Two jokes stood out last night. One, from "If this is the answer, what is the question?" was, inevitably, from Frankie Boyle. In response to the answer "60,000" Frankie suggested "is it the amount I bid for Maddy McCann on Portugese Ebay? It would have been more but the item was described as damaged."

The other, from Hugh Dennis, on the subject of "Advertisements that never made it to air" was "Max Moseley doesn't do Nazi orgies. But if he did, they'd probably be the best Nazi orgies in the world."

The experiment, then, is to see just how wimpy the BBC's editors are, and whether those two jokes make the cut in Thursday's broadcast....
(, Wed 30 Jul 2008, 12:32, 7 replies)
*drifts vagely off topic*
But as it's Wednesday who cares.

At work I devise pointless games/experiments to keep me busy, today it is: How many place names can be slightly amended to include my name.

So far I have Sam Diego, Amstersam, Vietsam and Consamtinople.

If you're bored at work feel free to think of some more or places with your name in. I think I feel slightly too pleased when I think of another one.
(, Wed 30 Jul 2008, 12:28, 27 replies)
The One and Only
Me and my mate Richard have spent today trying to establish how many times you can hear the Chesney Hawkes classic "The One and Only" before you want to disembowel yourself with a stale kipper.....

52 plays and counting.

Length? 3 minutes 43 seconds.


Edit: Richard has just raised his arms triumphantly and proclaimed "I'M MENTIONED ON B3TA". Click I like this if I should tell further, more embaressing tales of him.

re-edit: Made it to 100 and felt like a part of me had died inside, turned it off. tomorrow: Rick Astley.
(, Wed 30 Jul 2008, 11:46, 6 replies)
Washing clothes - a new method
I can't think for the life of me why I tried this, but I suspect alcohol was involved as my memory of the event is a bit hazy.

Anyway, 'twas many years back and I was away from home on some work trip. I needed to wash some clothes, and thought that rather than humping all my stuff down to the laundrette, I could just do it myself in the sink, and hang it around my room to dry it. I had some handwashing liquid for exactly this purpose.

However, the sink in the bathroom of my hotel room was a tad small, and I decided to use the shower cubicle instead. But that meant I'd get all wet, as it was a fixed shower head. Nothing daunted, I started removing my clothes, figuring that if I did my washing in the nude, it would be quite easy to dry myself later. Then it occurred to me that it may be more efficient to keep my clothes on, and just step into the shower, and rub a bit of soap into them as I was going.

Conclusion - this does NOT work effectively

Wet clothes are extremely uncomfortable and heavy, and remarkably difficult to wash when still on one's person. Also, when one steps out of the shower, a huge pool of water forms on the floor, because wet clothes absorb much more than skin does.

So not only did I have to remove them all and wash them properly, I also had to clean up the mess on the floor and dry myself once I was finished.

I was nice and clean by the end of it though. :)
(, Wed 30 Jul 2008, 11:41, 1 reply)
Late nights
In the middle of reading this, I had to take out the dog. Now, there's nothing special in that. However, it gave me a chance to indulge myself as I was too arsed to get up to simply grab a drink. However, I was craving both beer and coffee. Simple solution? Beer and a tiny bit of instant coffee.

Smells like coffee when you go to drink it.

Tastes like shitty beer when you do.

I don't think I'm trying this again.
(, Wed 30 Jul 2008, 11:34, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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