Apparently I'm a sex offender
I was once paid £15 to count the amount of people visiting a hairdresser. I stood outside for 3 hours with a clicky counter in my pocket, pressing it every time a person entered. Suddenly there's a copper in front of me, I turn and there's another behind. "What are you up to sunshine?" "A rival hairdresser wants to count the competition" "Well, there's been a call from the shop owner that there's a ginger bloke standing outside fiddling with his cock." Have you ever done anything that made strangers think you were a pervert?
( , Thu 17 Aug 2006, 22:20)
I was once paid £15 to count the amount of people visiting a hairdresser. I stood outside for 3 hours with a clicky counter in my pocket, pressing it every time a person entered. Suddenly there's a copper in front of me, I turn and there's another behind. "What are you up to sunshine?" "A rival hairdresser wants to count the competition" "Well, there's been a call from the shop owner that there's a ginger bloke standing outside fiddling with his cock." Have you ever done anything that made strangers think you were a pervert?
( , Thu 17 Aug 2006, 22:20)
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I live in fear of David Courtney
When I was at uni, a girl got sexually assaulted one weekend. Real nasty, too. Anyway, the police interviewed me about it, along with several other people in my halls who fitted the description of the offender. It wasn't me - I was at my grandad's funeral in Germany that weekend.
Anyway, years later, I'm having a 'brushes with the law' conversation with the barber. I told the above story, and he revealed that he was mates with East-End hard man David Courtney, a man not famous for his love of sex offenders. I spent the next weeks convinced that my barber & Mr. Courtney were waiting round every dark corner, ready to beat the shit out of me for possibly being a pervert and living 'on their manor'.
(FYI, the police caught the culprit - he lived 2 floors above me - and he got 12 years in chokey for his vile acts)
( , Thu 17 Aug 2006, 23:37, Reply)
When I was at uni, a girl got sexually assaulted one weekend. Real nasty, too. Anyway, the police interviewed me about it, along with several other people in my halls who fitted the description of the offender. It wasn't me - I was at my grandad's funeral in Germany that weekend.
Anyway, years later, I'm having a 'brushes with the law' conversation with the barber. I told the above story, and he revealed that he was mates with East-End hard man David Courtney, a man not famous for his love of sex offenders. I spent the next weeks convinced that my barber & Mr. Courtney were waiting round every dark corner, ready to beat the shit out of me for possibly being a pervert and living 'on their manor'.
(FYI, the police caught the culprit - he lived 2 floors above me - and he got 12 years in chokey for his vile acts)
( , Thu 17 Aug 2006, 23:37, Reply)
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