Argh my eyes! My ears!
I've seen Chesney Hawkes in concert
(Jugular, Fri 31 Aug 2007, 13:18, Reply)

I think I've posted this before but
I always wanted to be in New Kids On The Block.

Oh yes.
(scentless_apprentice takes two bottles into the shower!, Fri 31 Aug 2007, 13:17, Reply)

Oh...
.. and once, I was so disgustingly randy that I lied to a boyfriend that I was on the pill so we could have sex. We did. And then I made my friend go and get me the morning after pill.

Good times.
(thants, Fri 31 Aug 2007, 13:16, Reply)

Sorry but.....
My favorite soap is Emmerdale.
( girlinthehole, Fri 31 Aug 2007, 13:15, Reply)

I wish it was me
who painted the Cerne Abbas' giant's nob purple! That would be such a secret to have. Pink nobs, it has to be one of us doesn't it.

Length... well, where to start, he's a big lad.

Edit: Had to put "nobs" because the IT sweary filter thing at work doesn't allow the word "cocks".
(tinypod will never learn. Ever., Fri 31 Aug 2007, 13:15, Reply)

My dad...
... had spent what seemed like a whole fucking morning on the toilet and I was desperately needing a piss. Unlike my brothers, I couldn't just go and piss in the drain outside so I constructed a little toilet in my room, consisting of a plastic box and newspaper and pissed in that instead. I then kept it under my bed until everyone was out of the house and I could clean it.


I did get my own back though. I once spent so long in the bath that my dad had to shit in a bucket.
(thants, Fri 31 Aug 2007, 13:14, Reply)

The horror.
I owned every album 5ive ever made. I was 22 years old at the time.
(chakaflange, Fri 31 Aug 2007, 13:13, Reply)

Where do I start!
I have a crush on -

Disasterprone!
( girlinthehole, Fri 31 Aug 2007, 13:09, Reply)

Easter Eggs NOT
Bloody hell, made the first page of a QOTW!

I have been known to wistfully look back and wish I'd never lied to my youngest sister. Told her on Easter morning that those white dog turds you seem to see on every footpath, were actually Easter Eggs. She believed me. Poor kid.
( Shazzoir Old enough to know better young enough not to care, Fri 31 Aug 2007, 13:00, Reply)

a long long time ago (not a distant galaxy tho')
I was on a stag night and about 4.a.m we all crashed...I half awoke to a faint pulling at the nethers...the groom to be was blowing me!
dilemma:
A) rudely awake and say WTF dude! (thus outing the un-outed at that point groom to be)
or
B) let nature run its course...?

I chose B and fell asleep after the er, natural response.
at the wedding I did get to finger the missus to be; "He's not been near me of late" she said and then I shagged his sister-out on the lawn, doggy style behind the rose bushes tho' not entirely out of sight of the catering staff apparently...a resounding cheer at orgasm does wonders for the ego, I find.
He, the groom that is, divorced within 6 months for some reason, which, i'm sure is entirely unconnected to any of these events.

guilty secret? er, I think i might have enjoyed it!
(mickturate if i could be arsed i'd be bored, Fri 31 Aug 2007, 12:56, Reply)

Hot man love
In my final year at Uni it dawned on me that, having utterly wasted the previous three years generally larking about and doing as little actual work as I could get away with, I would actually have to study really, really hard or I'd end up flunking the whole thing.

So I did. And I started doing really well, too. My grades were well up in all my courses, except one.

Partly it was because I really wasn't interested, partly it was because the tutor was a total fuckwit. As it happens, he was gay -- a fact that he somehow managed to crowbar into whatever subject we were discussing. Christ, he was a tedious bastard.

Anyway, my grades on this course were bringing my average down quite considerably: drastic action was required. So I began to flirt with the tutor. Nothing too overt, but a lingering look here or there, the odd glance at a significant moment. You know, subtle-like.

Bingo! my grades began to improve. And kept improving. It never progressed: even if I were gay myself, I don't think I could ever have induced myself to have anything to do with such a ghastly little troll of a man.

Anyway I graduated with a 2:1, but only after having to sit through a viva with Mr Troll to convince him to up my borderline grade -- one of the most uncomfortable hours of my life.

I do feel guilty about it now: it was manipulative and unfair, not qualities upon which I pride myself. But hey-ho, at least I never had to take it up the Gary.
( reallywittyname veraciously conspues lexiphanicism on, Fri 31 Aug 2007, 12:54, Reply)

One way ticket to hull and back
my brother,the grump and I look very similar, so much so people are sometimes sure we're twins but he's five years older than me.
Anyway my bro had a stalker, well a girl who wanted him badly and wouldn't take no for an answer so what could I do??? I spent all night in a club chatting to her telling her she was definately on for some red hot grump lovin' and making sure she had enough to drink. I then excused myself to "go and find the grump" ie my brother, went to the toilets redid my hair and swopped shirts with a mate, went back and pretended to be my own brother!!!
the shame.
well there was only one conclusion from there on in, took her home, did the deed, twice. had to tell big bro and fortunately he fell off the sofa laughing.
length? she maintains it was one of the best nights of her life so......
(The kneeling rifleman Is slowly getting there.., Fri 31 Aug 2007, 12:52, Reply)

Doctor Who
My guilty secret is that I can recite from memory, word for word, 8 out of the 13 episodes of the first series with Christopher Eccleston as the Doctor. I also sobbed when Christopher Eccleston regenerated into David Tennant, when Rose got trapped in the parallel universe and when the Master died.


Reading back, I think this is more a sad secret than a guilty secret.
(Demagogue69 did your grandad 3 times., Fri 31 Aug 2007, 12:50, Reply)

Not a secret, at all
Hi,

not only is this not a secret, it's now the big family joke that I will be made fun of for the rest of my life:

I totalled my mum's Mercedes.

With my 9 year old niece in it.

We'd just gone to see Harry Potter and the Hoped-For-But-Not-Actually-Shown-Hot-Fucking-Scene
(preferably involving Harry and all of the Weasley family), because both my niece and I have the horn for Daniel Radcliffe.

My dad used to make fun of me for an incident, 16 years ago (that's SIXTEEN), where I ordered an Indian banquet and couldn't eat it all. I used to complain about that. Now I'm like, "Dad, can't you make fun of me for the Vegetarian Curry Incident?".

I do feel really guilty about it though. I thought I was a good driver. :(
(Emily Bruce-Dickinson http://jovialfellow.blogspot.com/, Fri 31 Aug 2007, 12:48, Reply)

My little secret...
I was on holiday a few months back and after a few beers, my mates and I got into a game of Dare.

Needless to say things soon got out of hand and I ended up being dared to break into someones hotel room and steal something.

Some silly cnut had left a window open so I sneaked in and grabbed the first thing that came to hand. Just some little girl with a funny eye but my mates were well impressed and I won the game.

We sold her to some gypsies aterwards as we had "liquidised our assets" by that point.

Single to Hull, please.
(71 hour Ahmed wasn't working at, Fri 31 Aug 2007, 12:47, Reply)

I really shouldnt write
This... but anyway :D Wrong wrong wrong... is all I can say it was I that drew the lewd cock on the bathroom wall at uni - and then over the weeks added text.. all entiorely hilarious... but I was the head student rep and they'd only just got painted :S

I really cant tell the others but bra and cracking one off into it when she wasnt my gf... and then returning it to the drawer.

Oh what else... not so much a secret as it was obviously me but I was drunk and therefore invisable... but I hid the evidence well... I nicked 4 bottles of beer my flat mate brought over from Belgium... thats bad.. but I hated it so much I chucked most of it away - I did try to drink it though...

oooh this one I really dont recommend... I half inched my old mans car whilst a tad tipsy and they were on holiday - thats bad enough but I have no licence... and I put a scratch all done the one wing... and by scratch I mean a dent... and knocked the front bumper down... I dont recall hitting anything.. oops - I got away with it though the bumper require the mechanics best freind a hefty kick, and I just rubbed dirt into the old scratch.. it wasnt in the best of shapes... he noticed when I double bluffed him by telling him what the new scratch was... he obviously never considered his angelic son would do such a thing...

I have more than enough length and a few more tales of woe.. let me get up the courage for the meaty ones...
(feedingtimeatthezoo day 1 of his bikini diet started, Fri 31 Aug 2007, 12:46, Reply)

Guilty Secret...
I assisted with helping the last QOTW continue off topic... Gasp, Shock, Horror, etc.
(TheIllusionaryCow Is Slowly Being Grilled By Imaginary People On, Fri 31 Aug 2007, 12:44, Reply)

Erm, slightly late. Humble apologies. Thought it was still worth posting.
Damn. Just remembered literally seconds after the damn thing closed, this story about a girl who sleep walked to the top of a 130 ft crane.

news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/4654579.stm

It doesn't mention whether she pissed anywhere. Apologies if it was posted earlier, and for the fact that it's now in the wrong QOTW. Blimey, you can till I'm crap at this!
(Asbo Enthusiast, Fri 31 Aug 2007, 12:41, Reply)

I can recite to you exactly what happens
when Bagpuss goes to sleep.

Sad, I know.
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Fri 31 Aug 2007, 12:39, Reply)

hmm...
at my best friend's funeral, i ended up pissing off with our other best mate's brother for a quickie while his girlfriend and the other best mate thought i'd gone for a cry in the toilets.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Fri 31 Aug 2007, 12:37, Reply)

Whores! Embarrassment!
My mate's secret, which I am pleased to recount to all...

It was a usual evening; we had been out, got trashed and were continuing the process at home.The group of us, totalling about 8, were sitting in the living room; tunes blasting out, playstation being caned, beers being drunk, a bag of pills on the table and people smoking, chopping out lines, inhaling pipes and generally adding to the low-lit, warm, fuzzy, smoke wreathed atmosphere.

Naturally, conversation was flowing, and we covered all manner of topics: from mundane topics such as clubs through to somewhat more esoteric material, including girls, fucking and whores...

At this point my friend got to his feet, said loudly and clearly "I'm going for a piss" and staggered out of the room.

About four hours later we began to wonder where he had got to; none of us had seen/thought of him for some time and we began to wonder what had happened. As we pieced together the events leading to his disappearance we concluded we should go and look for him.

Shortly after this search had commenced (his phone was switched off) he came in through the front door looking sheepish, red in the face, sweating profusely and with his eyes rolling. Thinking he may have scored some crack, we fell upon him with queries as to his health, offering drink and generally being solicitous and trying to get him to share.

He hadn't scored, but unusually he remained tight lipped; saying nothing and trying to change the subject. I disappeared into the kitchen with Niall, and a plan was born; we'd drug the truth out of him.

I racked up a load of monster lines of coke, but cunningly substituted one for ketamine. The result was 7 people buzzing, chatting and focussed on geting the truth v our mate, fucked out of his brain and experiencing a different reality.

The truth came out, and it was better than we could ever possibly have hoped for...

Our talk of whores had reignited his desire for paid-for skanklove. He'd gone to the toilet, where the idea had continued to gnaw away at him, and had stolen Ben's car keys, and subsequently his car, having decided to trawl the red light district. He drove around for an hour, many times the limit and clearly drugged (bless him, he never had any ability for concealing the state he was in). He had found a whore, and asked politely how much she'd charge to suck him off. She said twenty quid, and he unfolded the cash from his pocket. She then told him that she needed to give the cash to her pimp before she did the deed.

Slim said OK.

Then the obvious happened. She fucked off with the dosh. He spent two hours searching for her off his head, in a stolen car, in a red light district! As you'd expect, he didn't find her and eventually returned home.

We understood why he hadn't told us, and gently mocked him for many months. He is still very keen to keep this from his fiancee.
( disasterprone "Pyjamas caused the Holocaust", Fri 31 Aug 2007, 12:36, Reply)

Oh dear...
The QOTW was late because I caught Scaryduck in a hilarious hoover assisted bin-bag wanking frenzy.
(WittyUsernameHere, Fri 31 Aug 2007, 12:33, Reply)

shame? maybe...
I can recite an entire Mr Kipling advert from the eighties
(Shining Love Pig, Fri 31 Aug 2007, 12:33, Reply)

Socks! Shit! Shock!
I'd been out with my brother. Got trashed. Had a severe hangover.

Went to the pub (a Rat and Parrot) as it was nearest. Usually I would avoid those sort of places, but I needed booze to cure the pain...

I had a couple of ciders then that familiar need to have a crap began to assert itself. No problems, I thought, I'll go to the toilet in a sec. The stomach cramps arrived suddenly and severely. I doubled over, and sprinted to the toilets, relieving myself in a hideously messy way...

Then I noticed there was no toilet paper.

I began to curse and babble under my breath, bemoaning my hangover and bringing down curses on the negligent cleaners. Panicking, and saying a brief prayer for my trousers and dignity, I hobbled to the other trap. Also paperless.

This left me a dilemma. A significant problem in fact. I could either have a messy bottom (unacceptable) or improvise...

Suffice to say, I ended up sockless, and commando.

I left the pub rapidly, but as I was exiting the door, I heard a scream of horror coming from the gents. The cleaner had belatedly found their way to the gents...

I've not been back there.
( disasterprone "Pyjamas caused the Holocaust", Fri 31 Aug 2007, 12:32, Reply)

Second
WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

guilty secret,

i once picked my neice up and bashed her head on the ceiling, it was a sloped ceiling and she was crying already...
(SuckYourMum, Fri 31 Aug 2007, 12:31, Reply)

FIRST!
after waiting all day. the shame of having nothing better to do is my guilty secret.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Fri 31 Aug 2007, 12:31, Reply)