Worst alarm clock ever
Back in the mid-90s I was unemployed and by all accounts living the life of Reilly. I might not have had much cash, but otherwise I was in clover -- long lazy days, getting up when I wanted (often just in time to see the struggling actress who lived next door sunbathing topless in her garden...ace!) going to bed when I felt like it and generally doing very little.

It would have been heaven, had I not been sharing a house with THE ARSE OF DAVE.

He was called 'Big Dave' not in an ironic way, but because he was mahoosive and his name was Dave. Now Big Dave had a proper 9 to 5 so had to get up at some godforsaken hour to commute into the centre of town (we lived at the far end of a particularly unreliable bus route). I on the other hand, being a gentleman of leisure, could lie abed as long as I wanted.

So what was the problem? The problem was that the head of my bed was on the other side of the wall from the bathroom -- specifically, directly adjacent to the toilet. And every morning, regular (ho ho) as clockwork, Big Dave would have his Big Dump. Accompanied by the most extraordinary, ground-shaking, ear-drum threatening flatulence it's ever been my misfortune to witness. And let me tell you, there are plenty more pleasant ways to be awoken in the morning than to have your brain rattled by the sounds of some lolloping great oaf's anus flapping.

Looking on the bright side, at least when he was in the bathroom having a shite, he wasn't noisily porking his miniscule (and equally vocal) girlfriend. I'll never understand how she avoided being suffocated, to be honest.
( reallywittyname veraciously conspues lexiphanicism on, Sat 14 Jul 2007, 21:09, Reply)