One dad one cup
When I was about 7 or 8 my dad sat me down one night and told me a story. A story that placed the Heyzeus family firmly within the history books and made me feel special, chosen by the gods, to have been born into the clan. For we were historymakers and the world was indebted to us.

With such a proud boast on my mind I waited until a special ocassion to regale this story. An ocassion where it would reach the masses and major Pwnage would be wrought upon my peers and I would truly be idolised.

The ocassion came a few weeks later. The class show and tell.

My 'show' wasn't all that. Just an Aston Villa football kit. For it was the 'tell' that would be the coup de grace.

THe story that young Heyzeus stood up to tell went as thus.

When my dad was a young man he played for Aston Villa reserves (a fact proven to me previously by his medals and other keepsakes).

It was during the final months of WW2 and Villa had made it through to the FA cup final. Dad agonised over whether he would be selected for the team that grand day, and due to several first team players being called up to fight the hun, he did indeed get the chance he so was so desparately waiting for.

The game was a dour affair by all accounts but towards the end of the game the ball came to my dad on the wing. He dribbled past one. Past two. Then faced with a couple of burly players between him and the goal my dad stopped and, thinking quickly, chipped the ball up and executed a perfect overhead kick into the top corner. From about 30 yards out or something.

It was the only goal of the game and my dad had scored the winning goal in an FA cup final.

As the team made their way towards the steps, to receive the cup and medals from the queen, the team captain told my dad that as he'd scored such a great goal, the likes Wembley had never seen before and would never see again, and because he was the youngest, he could be the one to lift the cup.

'Go on son, you've cheered the nation up. You deserve it'.

Walking wearily up the 39 steps, receiving high fives, handshakes and scarves from the fans, my dad looked up and what's this??

It's Adolf Hitler stood there in amongst the crowd!!

Instinctively, my dad reached down his shorts, pulled a gun out ('we all carried guns back then' he said, 'you know, just in case') and shot hitler two-times square in his chest. Hitler was killed instantly.

The crowd cheered, and the Queen gave way with the formalities and planted a kiss on my dad's cheek. Whispering a 'thank you' for saving the country, ending the war, and for scoring the winning goal.

After proudly telling this tale to my classmates there was a stunned silence. THe teacher, blown away with my tale, flustered and brought up the next speaker.

Of course, one phone call from school to home later, I felt so bloody stupid.

You see, my Dad was born in 1943 which would have made him 18 months old at best when he did this remarkable act.

How I could miss out such a detail that made the story even more astounding I'll never know!
(Heyzeus, Mon 25 Aug 2008, 11:37, 4 replies)

The Deaf
I have now managed to convince some very bright people that all deaf people are nocturnal...."that is why their programs are on a night you see, it is an inner-ear thing!"

The best response I got was “that makes sense" from a nurse.

I can not claim it as my own original idea but I have been spreading it as much as possible.

First post so be nice
(mermaeve is very trying, Mon 25 Aug 2008, 10:17, 3 replies)

Siblings
I once told my ex-girlfriend's best mate (university education) that Peter Kaye (the short fat stand up comic and creator of Phoenix Nights) and Vernon Kaye (6ft plus former model and tv presenter now radio 1 dj) were brothers.

Thought nothing of it until roughly a year later I overheard her telling someone else this 'fact'.

So proud I could puke.
(animal252 last activated his kitten hammer on, Mon 25 Aug 2008, 10:03, Reply)

In The Navy
.
"Rum, sodomy and the lash" was how Wellington described the navy. The rum and the lash have gone but old sodomy is alive and well in the modern navy.

My mate Jim joined up and, before he went away, I gave him some sound advice.

Don't. Bend. Over.

Especially in the showers.

So Jim took this advice and had a trouble free time. Of course, the old salts were forever dropping their soap in the showers and asking Jim to pick it up but Jim was wise to them. Instead of bending over to pick up the soap, Jim would crouch and thus avoid giving someone a free *ahem* crack at his arse-hole.

All was well until one night when Jim was on watch during the dog-hours. He was stationed at the front of the ship on the port side with an old salty sea-dog called Burt.

"Where are we off to next Burt" asked Jim.

Burt spat over the side.

"Birmingham" he rasped. "We're doing a night run up the M6 to Birmingham.

"What the fuck?" says Jim " How the hell are we getting to Birmingham - it's landlocked"

"Did you not know that this ship is one of the new class of amphibious destroyers?" says Burt. "We just wind out the wheels and off we go"

"Wheels? What Wheels" asked Jim getting very confused.

"The wheels at the bottom of the ship. If you look closely you can see them just below the waterline" says Burt.

So Jim leans over the rail and peers at the bottom of the ship.

"I can't see any wheEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELS!"

Cheers

Thenk you very much. I'll be under the pier all week......
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Mon 25 Aug 2008, 9:54, 3 replies)

Evil teacher
We were around 15 years old when we went on a school trip around Australia. A highlight was our visit to Uluru/Ayers Rock, which is a huge fuck-off rock in the Northern Territory, 348m (1142ft) high. We were to walk to the top - it's about an 800m-long track, steep enough that you have to hang on to a steel chain to help haul yourself up in places.

Anyway, a teacher told my friend there was a Coke machine at the top. Figuring she would be thirsty by the time she got there, she took her purse up with her.

Naturally there was nothing at the top except rock. To top it all off, she lost her purse somewhere up there too.
(mellamaphone, Mon 25 Aug 2008, 9:09, Reply)

Lost in Tlansration
My brother-in-law wants to improve his English. This is great, except that he's a lazy student and only wants to talk about computers. Cue advantage-taking. I gave him about a dozen words, half genuine, half bogus, of which the three best:

USB Memory key = fish soup
Keyboard = flesh organ
Email inbox = Roy Hattersley

What's good is that 1 is a pun on the original language, 3 is a rather too literal translation and 2 should see him exposed to something to make his parents blush.

The computer arrived this morning: T minus 5 days until he's unleashed on the internet for good or for ill...
(daizi last tried to escape on, Mon 25 Aug 2008, 5:56, Reply)

I emailed my friend
that Willie Nelson had died - run over, due to playing on the road again.

He replied that Luciano Pavarotti had also died.

I couldn't work out the joke.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Mon 25 Aug 2008, 4:57, Reply)

Shroom
I am friends with a lovely girl by the nickname of Shroom - for no illicit reasons, as she has nothing to do with any of that biz, it's just one of those things. She is wonderfully gullible but she doesn't believe much I say any more.


She is a girly girl. A Yorkshire native, she is full of life and loves the colour pink.

Cue lies: "You know, pink is the only colour that contravenes the laws of thermodynamics and actually creates energy. That's why you have so much energy."

And: "You know the big bang right? Well, the universe is expanding. So that means at one point, yeah, at one point, it was all crunched up really small, right? Well, due to the phenomenon of red shift, it's possible to work out which point the universe is expanding away from. And the current scientific thinking is that since everything looks reddest from Yorkshire, then Keighley is actually the centre of the universe*."

I've done the ol' 'racing stripes are painted in aerodynamic paint so cars go faster round the corners**' on her too. She's hours of fun.

It backfires sometimes though. I had a hell of a time convincing her that walruses weren't mythical.

*OK by this point she had caught on. No-one is that stupid.
** Think I actually saw that on b3ta, so props eh?
(Ozz, Mon 25 Aug 2008, 4:56, 1 reply)

my first girlfriend
was a rather feisty feminist.

Once we were at a 'gig' (as I believe they're called) featuring the all-female metal band Nitocris.

She, seeing Nitocris hanging around near the stage, asked 'are they the band's girlfriends?'

She was most embarrassed.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Mon 25 Aug 2008, 4:56, Reply)

next to my friend's house
there was a Buddhist monastery.

My friend told me that 'all the monks listen to Nirvana'.

I thought 'ah, they must listen to loud music in order to clear their minds of conscious thought.'

One day we were driving by and I said 'hey, I know someone who used to live there. Apparently all the monks listen to Nirvana...oh.'
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Mon 25 Aug 2008, 4:52, Reply)

Love...
Sorry for lack of funnies.

I believed him when he said he would love me forever. That we would be together forever. Now, if that wasn't gullible.

I also believed he'd tell me something like this in person, even if if was over the phone. Not in an email saying : "It's become apparent since our anniversary that I no longer love you as a girlfriend."

Love makes us gullible, no?
(mistressminimas is absolutely insane, Mon 25 Aug 2008, 3:06, 10 replies)

Chas 'n' Dave
One night at a local boozer, myself and a few friends were lucky enough to find ourselves watching Chas and Dave live. It was a great night and much alcohol was consumed. So much so, that I ended up pulling quite a hefty lady. We didn't go any further than a bit of public tongue tomfoolery, but I do recall that her hands were the most sweaty hands I have ever encountered.
Anyway, short story long. I got her number and upon arrived home ended up calling and talking to her at the request of one of my mates. I vaguely recall the conversation, and the feeling that I will regret it in the morning.

Morning comes along, and while nursing a sore head snippets of the previous night came back to me. While in my drunken haze my recollection of the girl was that she was very pretty. In the cold hard light of day, I remember she was, in fact, a bit of a mutant. So after a few minutes of sitting and chatting with my friends, my phone beeps with a text message saying "Who is this?". This led to confusion until a mate told me while I was in the toilet he texted this "girl" from my phone. I can't remember the words of that particular text, but before I could reply I was pinned down and a further text was sent from my phone saying "It's Jboy from last night. We shared a romantic dance and kiss to 'Under the Boardwalk'".

So she replies. It was apparently prefect and she would love to see me again. Yada yada yada, no intention of calling her lest she eat me.
We got to a barbeque at a friends house that day. On the way my phone beeps with a text from a number I don't recognise. It claims to be from a mate of hers that was out with her the previous night asking if I was going to see her again as she has a bad time with men and gets down about it. I don't reply.

I get another text. And another. And on and on it goes. "You're not replying. Does that mean you won't see her? She really needs this, she has been treated like shit by men. She thought you might be different". "I know she is big, but she turned to comfort eating when her parents were killed in a car accident a few years back".

Being spineless, I decided not to reply but the messages kept coming in thick and fast. And got odder and odder. I was quite taken at the time by the porn star Cytherea, and was getting messages about how this girl can squirt like her. I didn't remember telling her about that, but it may have been possible.

After a while at the BBQ the messages got closer to psychopathic. She recalled my address from the previous night from what I could tell, and told me that my car (of which she told me the make, model and colour) looked nice when she got there, but now looks better with white paint all over the sun roof. And she likes the look of my house, and the cat in the window, but she wouldn't have painted the front door blue. By this time I was freaking out. I always wanted a stalker, but one that took the time to stalk and didn't go rushing in to the whole mental part of it.

By now, you have probably all guessed what I didn't at the time. It was my best mate/housemate texting me from his work mobile (of which I didn't have the number) pretending to be this girl. EVERYONE else at the BBQ knew about this. At one point, he was sat opposite texting me. Looking at the phone which he held under the table. And I thought he was falling asleep so told him to wake up and didn't even click that my phone beeped not two seconds later. Another mate at the BBQ (obviously in on it) offered to tell her to fuck off for me. He got "her" number off me and texted her saying to leave me alone. My other mates phone beeped just after he sent the text. I never even twigged.

I would love to call him a cunt for that, but I believe that honour belongs to me for falling for it. The only thing I can take solace in is that it cost him a fortune as he probably sent me at least 30 messages that day. I wanted to hurt him, but I felt it was my own fault for being such a plum.
(Jboy, Mon 25 Aug 2008, 1:10, 1 reply)

my older brother
When I was a toddler he told me there were sweets under a small pile of dirt in the yard. I grabbed at the dirt only to find dogshit, now all over my hands.

When I was nine he said he'd time me kicking a football round the block. When I got back he was indoors watching TV.

When I was eleven he invited me to take part in a comedy tape him and a mate were making. Eager to be involved I join in, only for him to punch me in the stomach for laughs, all caught on tape.

At this point I decided he was a bit of an arse at times. Still, I could take him in a fight easy these days, and he knows it.
( Ysol ab abl blap, Mon 25 Aug 2008, 1:10, 1 reply)

When we where much younger
my bastard of a brother convinced me that Haggises where in fact small, tartan coloured, pig like creatures, that the scottish shot for sport.
(biggiantmat, Mon 25 Aug 2008, 0:30, 3 replies)

Gullible managers
Managed to convince almost all of my previous employers that I was ALWAYS hard at work, all the while lurking and posting on b3ta.

True story.
( McBadger COW, Mon 25 Aug 2008, 0:07, Reply)

sorry to bring everyone down
but I actually think convincing people of things that aren't true is actually kind of stupid and mean.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sun 24 Aug 2008, 23:59, 8 replies)

Beware the schnitzel
When we were younger, my younger brother hated seafood. Still does, come to think of it.
In the late 70s, and early 80s, going out to dinner often involved Chinese food. All of which my brother would screw his face up and refuse to eat.
So, my Mother excelled herself, and told him that the Prawn cocktails (you know the ones, butterflied prawns, crumbed and fried) were actually schnitzel, which was pretty much his favourite food at that time.
This charade was flawless, and Brother was none the wiser until the night when we went to a slightly more upmarket Chinese eatery, and the "schnitzel" came complete with tails.
Almost 30 years later, and we still hang shit on him for it.
(David CopAFeel Used to be The_Elcat - Spouting crap since 1970., Sun 24 Aug 2008, 23:31, Reply)

2 for 1
A few years back I was over at my friend's place, and she was watching her little hellion of a brother. We fed him houseflies, convincing him that they were actually chocolate. It took him about six flies before he informed us "this isn't chocolate".

And more recently: My roommate is a pretty computer-savvy person, but before I moved into our dorm room, she fell for an pop-up ad. One that gave her a nasty virus that took several scans and several days to get rid of. Why? Because it called her stupid.
(NnyF, Sun 24 Aug 2008, 23:28, Reply)

Same best friend
also convinced me (and others, on separate occasions) that Arthur English had won the Best Supporting Actor Oscar for the Are You Being Served? movie.

I actually checked IMDB.
( john3ners has relocated to the Highlands, Sun 24 Aug 2008, 22:09, Reply)

Pronuciation
A favourite game of mine is wrongly correcting my friends' pronunciation, "Siesta? It's pronounced sYeSTAR, dear". Now the vast majority of the time I am denounced as talking bollocks, but just occasionally my reputation as the literary type leads people to believe me. Immature? Of course, but it can be rewarding...

You have not known joy until you've witnessed your then girlfriend interrupting the teacher in the middle of a crowded A-Level class to confidently correct her and assure everybody that the correct pronunciation of etiquette is, in fact, "etteake".

She didn't talk to me much after that...
(jabberwocky, Sun 24 Aug 2008, 21:32, Reply)

carry on screaming
my auntie has a truly evil sense of humour, which can often be quite funny. i shall give you 2 examples of this.

1.
the day she got new false teeth, she hid behind my mum's bedroom door. my mum sent my brother upstairs to get her comb from the dressing table.
my aunt leapt out at him, false teeth hanging out, screaming like a banshee.
my brother may have been 13, but that didn't stop him pissing his pants.

2.
when i was about 15, i was about to go for a wander with my best friend joanne and christine, the ugly goon who clung to us like shit to a blanket.
as we passed my aunt's house, she called us inside.
once we were in the kitchen, she asked us where we were going. we told her we were just going for a walk but, before we could leave, she had a warning for us. she showed us a newspaper article featuring a man in a blue boiler suit, his face hidden by an old man-type mask, complete with wild white hair. the headline said that this person had attacked somebody with a knife and was still on the loose.
of course, as teenagers, we believed that we were invincible.

that feeling lasted another ten seconds.

with no warning, the back door crashed open, revealing a blue boiler-suited man wearing an old man mask. it was him! he was going to kill us with the HUGE knife in his hand!

screaming, we ran full pelt out of the house. i turned around, hoping to see my aunt behind me.
instead, what i saw was my aunt and our would-be attacker, bent double in the kitchen, hardly able to breathe from laughter. the intruder pulled his mask off, revealing himself to be my cousin. if his knife hadn't been fake(and i hadn't almost had a terror-induced heart attack), i would have killed the fuckers myself.

the funniest part was that, although my friend joanne stopped outside the gate as she realised it was a joke, christine the goon ran screaming all the way home.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Sun 24 Aug 2008, 21:21, Reply)

Balaclavas
Not me, but a very dear friend of mine, who we'll accurately call John.

Now while the rest of my friends and I had gallivanted off to uni to be drunken, workshy layabouts, John was stuck at home, working full time in some soul destroying job to earn money for a gap year. At some point in the year I found myself back home for a couple a weeks, so took it upon myself to drive John up to visit our friend Tim at a nearby uni, to show him what he'd been missing.

We arrived, found Tim and set about drinking as much pissy cheap lager as our litle livers could handle (lots, for us hardened student types, somewhat less for John). As is often the case in first year at uni, Tim had friends coming out of his arse (proverbially, thankfully), and we were swiftly introduced to what seemed like everyone in his halls. Names exchanged and swiftly forgotten, we settled down in his room and continued to drink the day away.

Now, John is prone to the occasional foot in mouth moment (he once responded to the ubiquitous "I fucked your mum" gag with an indignant and now legendary "Yeah ditto!") and is somewhat easily led, so we decided to take advantage of this, his increasing drunkenness and the amount of people we'd been introduced and play a prank on our old pal.

While he was in the toilet, I put on Tim's jumper and a balaclava that was handily and inexplicably strewn on the floor and, never dreaming that it would work, we decided that I, in my new garb, would be introduced to John as another friend of Tim's, Jeff. John returns to what is clearly the sight of me, his close friend for countless years, sitting in exactly the same place, drinking the same beer, wearing a jumper far too small for me and a balaclava. Quoth Tim, "John this is Jeff", I extend my hand and John...DOESN'T BAT A FUCKING EYELID! He simply shakes my hand with a cordial "Alright Jeff, good to meet you" and sits down.

Cue me, Tim and Tim's mates nearly damaging ourselves trying not to laugh, and John probably wondering why Tim's friend Jeff has taken to wearing a balaclava, indoors, on a warm day, and why he now appears to be having some sort of muscular spasm.

Just when we, pissed up and easily amused students, think things can't get any better John glances around with a look of deep confusion of his face and queries, "Hey, where's Jabberwocky?"

I nearly shat a kidney.
(jabberwocky, Sun 24 Aug 2008, 21:12, Reply)

Kid at school
Must have been about 12 or 13... I convinced him Big Ben was powered by a huge yoyo that went up and down St Stephen's tower.
(Pie of Meat ___°¬¯O¯____\o/_____/\_,____Y¯¯Y, Sun 24 Aug 2008, 20:28, Reply)

Overheard
I live in Dublin and we get a fair amount of Brits over for hen/stag nights and the like. This means that I get to overhear a fair amount of rubbish about the way things are done in "Oireland"

The best one by far was one I overheard on the O'Connell bridge. A young, blonde Liverpudlian girl was telling all her friends about the caves under the Liffey.

From what I could make out, her Irish boyfriend took advantage of her gullibility and insisted that there was a complex cave system under the river Liffey. She explained that you couldn't see them as it's an extraordinarily deep river and they're only just visible at low tide.

All her friends exclaimed over this wonderous knowledge. I couldn't stop from sniggering to myself as at that very moment you could clearly see 3 rusty shopping trolleys in the river.

Maybe not the funniest tale but made me laugh for about a week.
( commiegirl21 Can't think of anything witty on..., Sun 24 Aug 2008, 20:06, Reply)

When I was 17...
I actually thought that the new Labour government would make britain better...

Oh Dear!!!
( Squiggy Alloria makes theme parks., Sun 24 Aug 2008, 19:52, Reply)

My little sister.
My god my little sis was guollible as a youngster, there are many stories that I can recollect.
She used to watch a care bears video religously, nearly 3 times a day. My family and I became so sick of it that we told her care bears were illegal and that you could get put in prison for watching them. She believed us.
There were other times thoug that year where her gullibility amazed us. Once we decided to do a car boot sale in Newton Abbot (Devon), she really didn't want to go so we told her we were going to london, she believed newton abbot was london for a further 2 years, and we once told her Exeter was paris again with the same result . she waqs 8 at the time and we still rib her about it now she is nearly sixteen.
( skeltonator Needs some new daps., Sun 24 Aug 2008, 19:35, Reply)

Many years ago
in the grand old days of bulky little portable tellies, I was wooing the young maiden who would one day become my wife for a brief period. I had realised quite early on that she was fairly easy to confuse, and she seemed to believe most things I told her. Many many fine japes have been lost in the mists of time, but I remember one glorious one which was a marvel of storytelling and excellently timed.

She had left the room, perhaps on some mission of evil like witches often do, and for some reason the diabolical plan sprang instantly to my mind. I fumbled with the bulky 90's remote, which was almost the same size as the TV, and soon found the new fangled "off-timer". I set it to it's lowest level and just barely had time to hide the menu screen and set my face to "ashen" before she returned.

I then set about my tale. It was a tale so marvellously crafted in such a short time that I'm still quite proud of it. I lowered my voice and asked her if she'd heard about the strange events that had been occurring in my street. She (of course, as there were none ah ha!) said no. I again lowered my voice to almost a whisper and told her of the strange occurrences. Some malevolent entity had been passing from house to house and "interfering" with the things therein. She was by now looking quite scared and asked what I meant, so I leaned forward and took her hands in mine and replied in a barely audible voice "you know.... it's been making lights switch on, making fire alarms go off and....... switching off tellies" *PLUNK* Just as I finished saying it the TV switched off as the timer reached zero, I couldn't have hoped for better timing. The look of absolute terror on her face was sheer class, but didn't last long as I dissolved in fits of laughter after about five seconds.

She got me back though. Many years later she done me up like a kipper by pretending she'd be faithful til death do us part in a church, and promptly buggered off with someone else. The crafty little monkey!
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Sun 24 Aug 2008, 19:32, Reply)

What is it good for?
My dad lived in America during the Vietnam War. I asked him if he'd had a lucky number in the draft to avoid being shipped off to fight. He said that in fact he had been drafted but had failed the medical. Why? Well, with the way American army helmets were designed, if your nose was too big and stuck out from under the brim, it was easy for the enemy to spot you, so you didn't have to go fight.

I should mention that we're Jewish.

Truth is he actually did just get a really lucky number, but I didn't realise that for years.
( KersaI Missive Free Michael Shields! with Monday's Liverpool Echo, Sun 24 Aug 2008, 19:24, Reply)

SET UP OF A TEENAGER WITH ASPERGER'S SYNDROME
I have Asperger's Syndrome, and one symptom of this condition is gullibility. When I was a kid, other kids used to take advantage of this all the time, having laughs at my expense.
Probably the most significant example, however, would have been the incident which occurred when I was 16. By then I'd finally made some friends ( the most important symptom of Asperger's Syndrome is difficulty socialising and making friends because of appearing different ) and, along with one other guy, was invited round to the house of one of them after school. To begin with, everything seemed to go well. This guy lived alone with his mother, and she'd gone out. So the 3 of us were there by ourselves, just chatting away and chilling out.
Presently it was time for me to leave, and I told this to the person whose house it was. He replied to me in a very apologetic way that I'd need to climb out the living room window, as his mum had double-bolted the door when going out, thinking none of us would be leaving before she was back, and he unfortunately didn't have a key. So he summoned me over to the window and opened it for me, and I climbed out.
Once out, he announced to me that the whole thing was bogus - the front door was not unopenable - and the other friend ( were they in fact proper friends? ) instantly started roaring with laughter, and after calming down a bit told me in a sniggering way that he ( the person who lived there ) was going to let him out the " proper " way, and so he did. Then the two of us walked away together.
I was furious with him. I hadn't had much opportunity to be angry with the guy who lived there, but I could tell that this other person had been involved in the set up as well, and when I tried to give him a piece of my mind all he could insist on was that it had been funny beyond belief. I knew he would go round school telling everybody all about what had happened, and that I would start to look really bad.
Perhaps I should have ended my friendship wtih both of them right then and there, only I would have been the one to suffer as they had other friends as well and I didn't. Boy, are kids cruel, and that applies to teenagers as well. The attitude just seems to be, if you sense any signs of weakness and being different don't show any sympathy, just take advantage, take advantage, take advantage....
I still feel quite angry about it now.
(Gandalf, Sun 24 Aug 2008, 19:24, 6 replies)

Ahhh,childhood.
I was round my best mate's house and she had some tapioca pudding, which I'd never tried before. "What are those little tapioca balls made of?" I asked.

"Fat globules," she immediately answered, completely straightfaced.

I got really scared, thinking I'd just swallowed a mouthful of pure unadulterated fat. In fact I was so nervous that her mum had to pull out the dictionary and prove to me that tapioca was just a vegetable starch. Didn't matter. Never touched the stuff again.
( KersaI Missive Free Michael Shields! with Monday's Liverpool Echo, Sun 24 Aug 2008, 19:18, 2 replies)