I don't want to have this conversation
Using my Dad's computer the other day I found a picture I wanted to save, so I went to save it in My Pictures. This pulled up the folder and with it an array of big breasted girls wearing pearl necklaces, receiving visitors, etc.

I didn't want to talk about it but I know his girlfriend is computer savvy so I suggested creating a sub-folder called 'Accounts' and putting the porn in there. An incredibly embarrassing little conversation that was. But after all, we all wank and perhaps I should be glad he doesn't secretly like boys / that he's still got lead in his pencil. Euurgh.

Anyway, it was awful but also not that harmful and I had forgotten about it by tea time. Then that night I was on the couch with MY girlfriend having just watched the Devil's Advocate and quite frankly about to have dirty sex. I get a phone call.

'You rotten bugger' opines my father, 'you've corrupted all these files there's just little numbers here now.'

I had to talk him through the display properties... Sitting there half undressed and swatting my girl away from my rapidly deflating cock while I slowly and repeatedly talk my Dad through the business of setting his wank bank up as a slideshow. At which point he cheerfully shouts 'Good one, boy, we're good to go!' presumably referring to himself and his old chap, and hangs up on me.

I felt like I was trapped in my own peculair hell, a nasty quagmire of freudian system administration. Yuck.

Sorry, that is a bit long. Not as long as my Dad's.
(Boss Killer, Fri 10 Feb 2006, 15:42, Reply)