Intense Friendships
The other night a friend confessed to a really intense friendship when he was young. Nothing sexual or anything, but it did extend to always going to the toilet together. As he put it, "we shared our poos."
Think back to the innocence of blood brothers and being friends forever and tell us the stories of loyalty, commitment and how it all went horribly wrong. You've seen Heavenly Creatures...
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 10:21)
The other night a friend confessed to a really intense friendship when he was young. Nothing sexual or anything, but it did extend to always going to the toilet together. As he put it, "we shared our poos."
Think back to the innocence of blood brothers and being friends forever and tell us the stories of loyalty, commitment and how it all went horribly wrong. You've seen Heavenly Creatures...
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 10:21)
This question is now closed.
friends and birthdays.
for my mates birthday recently me an two
other friends went into poundland and did a bit of impulse buying. he ended up with a
fire engine with plastic forks stuck on the front of it. all because we actually forgot
it was his birthday what great friends we are.
also the same friend has a shirt with bitch sprayed onto the
back of it - it was coloured hairspray that was meant to wash off but didn't
( , Sat 29 Jul 2006, 15:59, Reply)
for my mates birthday recently me an two
other friends went into poundland and did a bit of impulse buying. he ended up with a
fire engine with plastic forks stuck on the front of it. all because we actually forgot
it was his birthday what great friends we are.
also the same friend has a shirt with bitch sprayed onto the
back of it - it was coloured hairspray that was meant to wash off but didn't
( , Sat 29 Jul 2006, 15:59, Reply)
friends are weird
me and dave, my uber best mate, have one of those friend things where you always know what the other will say, and get odd urges to do something really un-pc at the most inappropriate time.
we met under crappy circumstances in secondary school, and started off hating each other, mainly cos i was annoying and quite hyper. it was only til the day our design teacher told him to ignore my annoyances that we forged a begrudging respect for each other, that eventually blossomed into friendship.
after all, anyone who can ignore me staining his whole arm purple, covering it with glue, bits of paper from a hole punch, glitter, and various items of stationary NEEDS respect.
anyway, that developed into our friendship today, which led to the funniest thing we have ever done: Shit Wars.
we were at an exhibition, and both had been eating terrible overpriced food, and drinking heavily, as it was quite sunny. thus, after a while we both really needed the shitter. so, we went upstairs, and sat in cubicles next to each other. and so began the amazing war of shit.
me: (mortal kombat style) "FIGHT!"
*i shit*
*dave shits*
*both sniggering like teenage girls*
*i shit more*
*dave shits more*
*someone enters the cubicle next to me*
"WE HAVE A NEW CHALLENGER!"
*dave cries with laughter and almost falls off his toilet*
*i pull paper really noisily*
"FINISH HIM!"
*wipes arse*
*flushes*
"FATALITY!"
*dave comes out shortly after*
"BABALITY!"
it was fun. so, so much fun. please try it, noisily, in public. or at a really fancy black tie thing.
apologies for length and girth, it won't flush now. send me a plumber, worthy of mordor.
( , Sat 29 Jul 2006, 13:42, Reply)
me and dave, my uber best mate, have one of those friend things where you always know what the other will say, and get odd urges to do something really un-pc at the most inappropriate time.
we met under crappy circumstances in secondary school, and started off hating each other, mainly cos i was annoying and quite hyper. it was only til the day our design teacher told him to ignore my annoyances that we forged a begrudging respect for each other, that eventually blossomed into friendship.
after all, anyone who can ignore me staining his whole arm purple, covering it with glue, bits of paper from a hole punch, glitter, and various items of stationary NEEDS respect.
anyway, that developed into our friendship today, which led to the funniest thing we have ever done: Shit Wars.
we were at an exhibition, and both had been eating terrible overpriced food, and drinking heavily, as it was quite sunny. thus, after a while we both really needed the shitter. so, we went upstairs, and sat in cubicles next to each other. and so began the amazing war of shit.
me: (mortal kombat style) "FIGHT!"
*i shit*
*dave shits*
*both sniggering like teenage girls*
*i shit more*
*dave shits more*
*someone enters the cubicle next to me*
"WE HAVE A NEW CHALLENGER!"
*dave cries with laughter and almost falls off his toilet*
*i pull paper really noisily*
"FINISH HIM!"
*wipes arse*
*flushes*
"FATALITY!"
*dave comes out shortly after*
"BABALITY!"
it was fun. so, so much fun. please try it, noisily, in public. or at a really fancy black tie thing.
apologies for length and girth, it won't flush now. send me a plumber, worthy of mordor.
( , Sat 29 Jul 2006, 13:42, Reply)
ginger cunt steve
steve is the nuts hes my best mate and has been for years. went on holiday with him the other year and after 3 days he proper got on my tits i have never been so close to chining any one ever.
( , Sat 29 Jul 2006, 13:22, Reply)
steve is the nuts hes my best mate and has been for years. went on holiday with him the other year and after 3 days he proper got on my tits i have never been so close to chining any one ever.
( , Sat 29 Jul 2006, 13:22, Reply)
Here's another
When we were 9 years old, myself and two of my friends wanted to form a club. Everyone was doing it - holding regular meetings (read: asking mum "Hey can Tracy and Tahni come over tomorrow?"), making your own cool membership cards (there were those machines at the shopping centre), and writing a newsletter (Headline: "I'm doing ballet on Tuesday" or "We went to the shops!"). It was a cute thing to do, but what we needed was a catchy name. One that we would easily abbreviate to put on our cards, and which was very unique and witty. We decided on one which I'm glad to say I made up myself - 'The Kool Kids Klub'.
That's right, we were the KKK.
I even made membership cards.
( , Sat 29 Jul 2006, 13:01, Reply)
When we were 9 years old, myself and two of my friends wanted to form a club. Everyone was doing it - holding regular meetings (read: asking mum "Hey can Tracy and Tahni come over tomorrow?"), making your own cool membership cards (there were those machines at the shopping centre), and writing a newsletter (Headline: "I'm doing ballet on Tuesday" or "We went to the shops!"). It was a cute thing to do, but what we needed was a catchy name. One that we would easily abbreviate to put on our cards, and which was very unique and witty. We decided on one which I'm glad to say I made up myself - 'The Kool Kids Klub'.
That's right, we were the KKK.
I even made membership cards.
( , Sat 29 Jul 2006, 13:01, Reply)
Tracy
When I was 10 I had my braces put on. I was the first in our grade to go through that, and felt very left out. During school yard catfights, the topic of my braces was always used as a 'discussion point', and it was what made me unique - until Tracy had hers put on.
We immediately changed the class-seating arrangement to the effect that we shared a desk. We aptly named ourselves 'Braces Buddies', which to us was a very exclusive partnership. This continued until my family moved to the other side of the country (Perth to Brisbane) when I was 12 (braces had been taken off since then, by the way).
2 years later, Tracy's family decided to pack up and move to Brisbane. Tracy moved into a house about 300 metres away from me. We attended different schools, but all of my school friends knew her as "that girl who is always at Talbo's birthday parties" and all of her school friends knew me as "that girl who is always at Tracy's birthday parties". In fact, on my 16th birthday I attempted to turn my living room into a gaybar as a theme for the night, and it was Tracy who spent the entire evening stirring up mocktails for my schoolfriends that she barely knew.
What has never really occured to me until now is that, throughout this entire relationship, we've never discussed our friendship. We've never even really referred to each other as 'best friends'. Everything just 'happens', and it was only when I was going through high school (all girls school - very catty) and experiencing a myriad of bitchiness, backstabbing and insincerity, that I realized exactly what she means to me.
Now we're at the same university - we catch the bus there together whenever our timetables allow it.
So there it is. No life-altering crisis, no crazy circumstances, just a girl that I've known for a very long time. What surprises me is that, owing to my constant moving around the country because of dad's job (before settling in Brisbane), she's the only non-family member that I've known for more than 10 years. Everyone else has come and gone, except for Tracy.
The only regret I have is that I've never turned to her and said 'you know, you're a really good friend'.
I don't know how to finish this post.
*EDIT* On the first day she came to school with her braces, I was trying to mentor her, and told her not to bite down really hard on her braces. She bit down really hard on her braces, and had to go back to the ortho on the very same day he had put on her braces, in order to get them fixed.
*EDIT* When I was away on holiday, she called me (long distance) just to tell me that she just drove through a tunnel where somebody had written 'TALBO' on the wall. She ended up adding 'ROCKS!' next to it, eventually.
*EDIT* Our families went holidaying together to the coast, and she and I spent most of our time in the hotel room playing the CSI Board Game.
( , Sat 29 Jul 2006, 12:43, Reply)
When I was 10 I had my braces put on. I was the first in our grade to go through that, and felt very left out. During school yard catfights, the topic of my braces was always used as a 'discussion point', and it was what made me unique - until Tracy had hers put on.
We immediately changed the class-seating arrangement to the effect that we shared a desk. We aptly named ourselves 'Braces Buddies', which to us was a very exclusive partnership. This continued until my family moved to the other side of the country (Perth to Brisbane) when I was 12 (braces had been taken off since then, by the way).
2 years later, Tracy's family decided to pack up and move to Brisbane. Tracy moved into a house about 300 metres away from me. We attended different schools, but all of my school friends knew her as "that girl who is always at Talbo's birthday parties" and all of her school friends knew me as "that girl who is always at Tracy's birthday parties". In fact, on my 16th birthday I attempted to turn my living room into a gaybar as a theme for the night, and it was Tracy who spent the entire evening stirring up mocktails for my schoolfriends that she barely knew.
What has never really occured to me until now is that, throughout this entire relationship, we've never discussed our friendship. We've never even really referred to each other as 'best friends'. Everything just 'happens', and it was only when I was going through high school (all girls school - very catty) and experiencing a myriad of bitchiness, backstabbing and insincerity, that I realized exactly what she means to me.
Now we're at the same university - we catch the bus there together whenever our timetables allow it.
So there it is. No life-altering crisis, no crazy circumstances, just a girl that I've known for a very long time. What surprises me is that, owing to my constant moving around the country because of dad's job (before settling in Brisbane), she's the only non-family member that I've known for more than 10 years. Everyone else has come and gone, except for Tracy.
The only regret I have is that I've never turned to her and said 'you know, you're a really good friend'.
I don't know how to finish this post.
*EDIT* On the first day she came to school with her braces, I was trying to mentor her, and told her not to bite down really hard on her braces. She bit down really hard on her braces, and had to go back to the ortho on the very same day he had put on her braces, in order to get them fixed.
*EDIT* When I was away on holiday, she called me (long distance) just to tell me that she just drove through a tunnel where somebody had written 'TALBO' on the wall. She ended up adding 'ROCKS!' next to it, eventually.
*EDIT* Our families went holidaying together to the coast, and she and I spent most of our time in the hotel room playing the CSI Board Game.
( , Sat 29 Jul 2006, 12:43, Reply)
Loving foulness
I know its slightly different,as its my boyfriend,but we do take romance to the extreme sometimes. As in,licking each others eyeballs to see what they taste like,sharing breath, eating each others bitten off nails and finger skin. Also,if he's just tried a food and doesnt like it,sometimes he'll spit it into my mouth,baby-bird style so I can finish it. Oh,and I sit in the bathroom with him so I can talk to him while he poos.
All done in a very loving,affectionate way,of course.
( , Sat 29 Jul 2006, 10:19, Reply)
I know its slightly different,as its my boyfriend,but we do take romance to the extreme sometimes. As in,licking each others eyeballs to see what they taste like,sharing breath, eating each others bitten off nails and finger skin. Also,if he's just tried a food and doesnt like it,sometimes he'll spit it into my mouth,baby-bird style so I can finish it. Oh,and I sit in the bathroom with him so I can talk to him while he poos.
All done in a very loving,affectionate way,of course.
( , Sat 29 Jul 2006, 10:19, Reply)
I've never had an obsessive 'Heavenly Creatures' type friendship
But I have thought about Kate Winslett dressed as a schoolgirl.
A crazy, dangerous, lesbian schoolgirUUUH...oh dear.
( , Sat 29 Jul 2006, 7:53, Reply)
But I have thought about Kate Winslett dressed as a schoolgirl.
A crazy, dangerous, lesbian schoolgirUUUH...oh dear.
( , Sat 29 Jul 2006, 7:53, Reply)
I went camping once and met some very nice people
who I still keep in touch with.
( , Sat 29 Jul 2006, 3:53, Reply)
who I still keep in touch with.
( , Sat 29 Jul 2006, 3:53, Reply)
I had an "invisable" friend as a child.
if that counts....
seemingly i used to set the table at mealtimes for him. and would get rather annoyed if anybody sat on him (or in his chair)
I wish he was here now.... *sighs*
( , Sat 29 Jul 2006, 1:28, Reply)
if that counts....
seemingly i used to set the table at mealtimes for him. and would get rather annoyed if anybody sat on him (or in his chair)
I wish he was here now.... *sighs*
( , Sat 29 Jul 2006, 1:28, Reply)
"woo first post" etc
by saying this, all you are doing is confirming that you need friends
by friends i mean special needs carers
and by need i mean should hopefully be awarded
anyhoo
as for a special friend
i have jose, hes the guy i work with, we sometimes have a beer after work in the pub
at the moment thats about it
oh yes and in my case "special friend" means "the only excuse for human contact that could be called anything like a friendship"
its not big or clever. . . or a penis
( , Sat 29 Jul 2006, 1:05, Reply)
by saying this, all you are doing is confirming that you need friends
by friends i mean special needs carers
and by need i mean should hopefully be awarded
anyhoo
as for a special friend
i have jose, hes the guy i work with, we sometimes have a beer after work in the pub
at the moment thats about it
oh yes and in my case "special friend" means "the only excuse for human contact that could be called anything like a friendship"
its not big or clever. . . or a penis
( , Sat 29 Jul 2006, 1:05, Reply)
Lard, sprouts and cheese.
Me and a bloke at school were the best of friends. We smoked secretly together, drank cheap cider together...The usual teenage stuff.
We were so close, in fact that we decided to go on a food relating vandalism spree in our town centre one night...
I filled the coin slot on a car park ticket machine with Primula cheese spread, sellotaped sprouts to road signs, posted carrots through peoples letter boxes, but the fun didn't end there. We bought some lard and covered a phonebox in it and raw eggs. We also wrote 'LARD' on a cement wall outside a pub in...yes lard, and 10 years later its still there.
The resulting carnage for us was impressive. So much so we decided to do a second run only this time with toothpaste as a new weapon. It was only amusing because my friend smeared it all over his mouth and then realised it stung like a bastard.
( , Sat 29 Jul 2006, 0:23, Reply)
Me and a bloke at school were the best of friends. We smoked secretly together, drank cheap cider together...The usual teenage stuff.
We were so close, in fact that we decided to go on a food relating vandalism spree in our town centre one night...
I filled the coin slot on a car park ticket machine with Primula cheese spread, sellotaped sprouts to road signs, posted carrots through peoples letter boxes, but the fun didn't end there. We bought some lard and covered a phonebox in it and raw eggs. We also wrote 'LARD' on a cement wall outside a pub in...yes lard, and 10 years later its still there.
The resulting carnage for us was impressive. So much so we decided to do a second run only this time with toothpaste as a new weapon. It was only amusing because my friend smeared it all over his mouth and then realised it stung like a bastard.
( , Sat 29 Jul 2006, 0:23, Reply)
Funny title
Wrote a story for the b3ta newsletter. Left out all the pronouns to make it sound deadpan. Did I end with a rhetorical question? Hell yeah!
Interweb.
( , Sat 29 Jul 2006, 0:19, Reply)
Wrote a story for the b3ta newsletter. Left out all the pronouns to make it sound deadpan. Did I end with a rhetorical question? Hell yeah!
Interweb.
( , Sat 29 Jul 2006, 0:19, Reply)
Oh dear god the shame.
Ahh yes. This reminds me of a bit of an interesting childhood game me and my fellow Reception kiddies did back in the day. We were a foul bunch, to be honest, and when I look back on this memory, it's decidedly disgusting.
5 little girls all sitting with their knickers down, pretending to take photo's of each other's vaginas. :| Christ almighty, what were we doing? We even pretended there was a screen on the tree that told us what we'd just taken a picture of.
...
I s'pose it's okay 'cause we were all only 5/6 years old. But still, I can't look any of those people in the eye when I look back on what we were up to.
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 23:57, Reply)
Ahh yes. This reminds me of a bit of an interesting childhood game me and my fellow Reception kiddies did back in the day. We were a foul bunch, to be honest, and when I look back on this memory, it's decidedly disgusting.
5 little girls all sitting with their knickers down, pretending to take photo's of each other's vaginas. :| Christ almighty, what were we doing? We even pretended there was a screen on the tree that told us what we'd just taken a picture of.
...
I s'pose it's okay 'cause we were all only 5/6 years old. But still, I can't look any of those people in the eye when I look back on what we were up to.
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 23:57, Reply)
Intense... yeah
In primary school, I had a friend called Emma, we were really close, always hung around together and sat together. Always worked together on the same projects, often sat styling eachother's hair so we'd be twins, and she'd always pick me as her partner in PE. One day she gave me aninnocent kiss on the lips, and I thought "yeah, just being friendly." Then a lad in my class said "urgh, lesbians."
Being 7 and growing in a Catholic home and school, I wasn't familiar with the term, so I asked him to explain it. Emma and I kinda grew apart after that, for completely unrelated reasons...
Oh yeah, and she just graduated from an all girl's school.
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 23:52, Reply)
In primary school, I had a friend called Emma, we were really close, always hung around together and sat together. Always worked together on the same projects, often sat styling eachother's hair so we'd be twins, and she'd always pick me as her partner in PE. One day she gave me an
Being 7 and growing in a Catholic home and school, I wasn't familiar with the term, so I asked him to explain it. Emma and I kinda grew apart after that, for completely unrelated reasons...
Oh yeah, and she just graduated from an all girl's school.
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 23:52, Reply)
Never really had any intense friends
Not in a scary way. I've been there though, it's the typical falling for female best friend type scenario. Takes bloody years to get over believe me. Still, she's married now, and oddly enough I seemed to hog most of the dances with her at her reception. Call it brother's prerogative (so close we're now more like brother/sister). But still, I would like to take a moment to thank my friend Laura for a lifetime of friendship and helping me out.
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 23:34, Reply)
Not in a scary way. I've been there though, it's the typical falling for female best friend type scenario. Takes bloody years to get over believe me. Still, she's married now, and oddly enough I seemed to hog most of the dances with her at her reception. Call it brother's prerogative (so close we're now more like brother/sister). But still, I would like to take a moment to thank my friend Laura for a lifetime of friendship and helping me out.
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 23:34, Reply)
at a festival i went to in wales (wakestock)
me and a guy we went with had syncronized piss times un intentionally, we even invented a piss slap (oo sounds dirty:P)
more of a secret pete and matt piss at the same time club handshake
jus rolls of the tongue eh?
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 22:57, Reply)
me and a guy we went with had syncronized piss times un intentionally, we even invented a piss slap (oo sounds dirty:P)
more of a secret pete and matt piss at the same time club handshake
jus rolls of the tongue eh?
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 22:57, Reply)
Well
I reckon it would never have happened if my dad hadn't ignored me so often. I always wanted a younger brother, and never got one - in my idle moments I fantasised about having a good-looking younger brother and, y'know, eating him; and I can tell you it didn't half give me the horn, even though I was only about 10 at the time. So for years I entertained this fantasy in my head and became a computer technician in the meantime. Then, a few years ago, I was reading the interweb and found I was certainly not the only one to think like this; that was quite reassuring, I'd always thought I was a bit strange. Imagine my delight when I found a messageboard on the same place where I could place adverts! Once I'd calmed down a bit I placed an advert for a slim blond bit of totty willing to be slaughtered and eaten, and lo and behold, I got a reply. I went out to meet him; he was a nice lad (if a bit dim), and agreed to let me have my way with him. One night I invited him round to dinner, then chopped his knob off and flambéed it. We then ate it together; it was a lovely meal, so lovely I decided to video it. Then I got a bit excited, stabbed him in the neck a few times, dissected him and partially ate him. Sadly, I got put on trial for it, so I fucked that one up a bit, but it would never have happened if some cunt hadn't told the police when I placed another advert for a vore-buddy on the interweb.
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 22:19, Reply)
I reckon it would never have happened if my dad hadn't ignored me so often. I always wanted a younger brother, and never got one - in my idle moments I fantasised about having a good-looking younger brother and, y'know, eating him; and I can tell you it didn't half give me the horn, even though I was only about 10 at the time. So for years I entertained this fantasy in my head and became a computer technician in the meantime. Then, a few years ago, I was reading the interweb and found I was certainly not the only one to think like this; that was quite reassuring, I'd always thought I was a bit strange. Imagine my delight when I found a messageboard on the same place where I could place adverts! Once I'd calmed down a bit I placed an advert for a slim blond bit of totty willing to be slaughtered and eaten, and lo and behold, I got a reply. I went out to meet him; he was a nice lad (if a bit dim), and agreed to let me have my way with him. One night I invited him round to dinner, then chopped his knob off and flambéed it. We then ate it together; it was a lovely meal, so lovely I decided to video it. Then I got a bit excited, stabbed him in the neck a few times, dissected him and partially ate him. Sadly, I got put on trial for it, so I fucked that one up a bit, but it would never have happened if some cunt hadn't told the police when I placed another advert for a vore-buddy on the interweb.
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 22:19, Reply)
Aah the memories.
My first best mate was a guy called Christian (!)
We got up to loadsa mad stuff.
Stealing chewitts from the supermarket, sliding down hills in car bunkers, being chased by gypsies, spying on glue sniffers in the park... Making and recording a (rather crap childish) song about the people who lived in his street. We used to make ice slides in the street on extremely cold days by pouring cold water all the way down. We didn't actually think other people would fall over...
I was once playing army with him and attempted a daring climb over a shed. He pretended to 'shoot' me and I then fell off, down a slope onto the embankment and then fell DEEP into a pit of nettles that was taller than me... My cries of 'aaaaarghh gemme out, gemme out!' were ignored as he lay on the floor crying from laughter... I was nettled from testicle to teeth.
My pain was worth it though to see him get ambushed on his bike the next week. A kid from his neighbourhood spotted him cycling along and stuck a stick through his spokes... All of a sudden he was airborne and 'grinded' across a wooden fence CHEST FIRST... Painful? VERY!
Yes, we suffered a lot of pain in those days... falling out of tree's and stuff.
We also used to (for some reason)stand at the side of roadside puddles after a heavy rain and taunt drivers into splashing us...
Aaaah the lost innocence of working class boyhood.
He is also guilty of turning me into a smoker.
Turns out he's now gay and works in boots on the perfume counter.He has also quit smoking.
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 22:06, Reply)
My first best mate was a guy called Christian (!)
We got up to loadsa mad stuff.
Stealing chewitts from the supermarket, sliding down hills in car bunkers, being chased by gypsies, spying on glue sniffers in the park... Making and recording a (rather crap childish) song about the people who lived in his street. We used to make ice slides in the street on extremely cold days by pouring cold water all the way down. We didn't actually think other people would fall over...
I was once playing army with him and attempted a daring climb over a shed. He pretended to 'shoot' me and I then fell off, down a slope onto the embankment and then fell DEEP into a pit of nettles that was taller than me... My cries of 'aaaaarghh gemme out, gemme out!' were ignored as he lay on the floor crying from laughter... I was nettled from testicle to teeth.
My pain was worth it though to see him get ambushed on his bike the next week. A kid from his neighbourhood spotted him cycling along and stuck a stick through his spokes... All of a sudden he was airborne and 'grinded' across a wooden fence CHEST FIRST... Painful? VERY!
Yes, we suffered a lot of pain in those days... falling out of tree's and stuff.
We also used to (for some reason)stand at the side of roadside puddles after a heavy rain and taunt drivers into splashing us...
Aaaah the lost innocence of working class boyhood.
He is also guilty of turning me into a smoker.
Turns out he's now gay and works in boots on the perfume counter.He has also quit smoking.
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 22:06, Reply)
The clap
...And then I blurted her name just as I was about to get hitched to this English lassie in a ruined church in London. Talk about embarrassing...
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 20:27, Reply)
...And then I blurted her name just as I was about to get hitched to this English lassie in a ruined church in London. Talk about embarrassing...
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 20:27, Reply)
The truth will out.....
I had a group of friends of school that were kinda close (we were all about 15 at the time of this story); the usual shennanigans- drinking beer, bunking off classes, smoking ciggies, the other lads always going on about who they'd got to shag. Each shag story becoming filthier and more perverted.
Anyway, I started seeing this 17 year old at the sixth form. My mates were trying to warn me that she was a bit of a slapper and 'too easy' (well, that worked into my plans quite nicely). One lunchtime we copped off to the bogs on the local playing feilds and I proceeded to give her a good seeing too..... for the whole of the five minutes it took for me to lose my cherry anyways. I got back before the end of lunchbreak and all my friends had worked out what I'd been up too.
"What was it like?" they asked.
"You know, it felt like it probably normally feels...."
"Yeah.... What is THAT like?"
All my mates were big virgins and I'd thought I was the only one in the group.
I don't really see anyone from those days anymore.... I'm guessing a couple of them are probably still virgins, and the others are probably the parents of at least two kids each.
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 19:06, Reply)
I had a group of friends of school that were kinda close (we were all about 15 at the time of this story); the usual shennanigans- drinking beer, bunking off classes, smoking ciggies, the other lads always going on about who they'd got to shag. Each shag story becoming filthier and more perverted.
Anyway, I started seeing this 17 year old at the sixth form. My mates were trying to warn me that she was a bit of a slapper and 'too easy' (well, that worked into my plans quite nicely). One lunchtime we copped off to the bogs on the local playing feilds and I proceeded to give her a good seeing too..... for the whole of the five minutes it took for me to lose my cherry anyways. I got back before the end of lunchbreak and all my friends had worked out what I'd been up too.
"What was it like?" they asked.
"You know, it felt like it probably normally feels...."
"Yeah.... What is THAT like?"
All my mates were big virgins and I'd thought I was the only one in the group.
I don't really see anyone from those days anymore.... I'm guessing a couple of them are probably still virgins, and the others are probably the parents of at least two kids each.
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 19:06, Reply)
Bestest Friends
I was a former stalker of TheSadisticThespian, needless to say she wasn't interested, but alas, we're really good friends now... that is, until I do something stupid and ruin the friendship... which I'm sure won't happen... I hope.
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 18:52, Reply)
I was a former stalker of TheSadisticThespian, needless to say she wasn't interested, but alas, we're really good friends now... that is, until I do something stupid and ruin the friendship... which I'm sure won't happen... I hope.
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 18:52, Reply)
Tokyo
Just remembered this one. It's too funny not to share.
I've had a fair few "best mates" over the years but one of the greatest was "Millage". We met as he was seeing the best mate of my girlfriend. Initially we didn't get on - in fact he hated my guts - but that all changed after a holiday together when his girlfriend dumped him and I was left to console him.
Time moved on and me and my GF split up and me and Millage became "pulling partners". (And no, not in the sense you're thinking of you filthy minded bastards!). We became a team who's one aim in life was to pull as many women as we could and have our wicked way with them.
My favourite tale about the two of us was the night we pulled two girls who were visiting Newcastle. We met them in one of our local bars and after a quick chat up they were ours. Mine was quite fit. Slim, dark with a decent figure. Millage's, however, was a moose. She was huge. Still, we weren’t fussy in those days and at the end of the night we escorted them to where they were staying - a campsite on the edge of town.
To cut a long story short we ended up in the tent with them and got down to business. Much fun was had until I heard:
"Tokyo? Tokyo? Come in Tokyo!"
Looking over too my left in the dim light of a torch I could see Millage on his back with the Moose riding him like a Grand National jockey. She was bent forward over him so her huge norks were either side of his head, practically resting on the ground and Millage had his hands clamped around her tits, pressing them to his head like they were earphones. At the same time he was twisting her nipples backwards and forwards, trying to tune them in and all the while he was saying:
"Tokyo? Tokyo? Come in Tokyo!"
Sex was impossible after that. Me and the girl I was with were crying with laughing - so much so that she almost passed out.
Great days and a great memory of a great bloke.
Cheers
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 17:37, Reply)
Just remembered this one. It's too funny not to share.
I've had a fair few "best mates" over the years but one of the greatest was "Millage". We met as he was seeing the best mate of my girlfriend. Initially we didn't get on - in fact he hated my guts - but that all changed after a holiday together when his girlfriend dumped him and I was left to console him.
Time moved on and me and my GF split up and me and Millage became "pulling partners". (And no, not in the sense you're thinking of you filthy minded bastards!). We became a team who's one aim in life was to pull as many women as we could and have our wicked way with them.
My favourite tale about the two of us was the night we pulled two girls who were visiting Newcastle. We met them in one of our local bars and after a quick chat up they were ours. Mine was quite fit. Slim, dark with a decent figure. Millage's, however, was a moose. She was huge. Still, we weren’t fussy in those days and at the end of the night we escorted them to where they were staying - a campsite on the edge of town.
To cut a long story short we ended up in the tent with them and got down to business. Much fun was had until I heard:
"Tokyo? Tokyo? Come in Tokyo!"
Looking over too my left in the dim light of a torch I could see Millage on his back with the Moose riding him like a Grand National jockey. She was bent forward over him so her huge norks were either side of his head, practically resting on the ground and Millage had his hands clamped around her tits, pressing them to his head like they were earphones. At the same time he was twisting her nipples backwards and forwards, trying to tune them in and all the while he was saying:
"Tokyo? Tokyo? Come in Tokyo!"
Sex was impossible after that. Me and the girl I was with were crying with laughing - so much so that she almost passed out.
Great days and a great memory of a great bloke.
Cheers
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 17:37, Reply)
A friend who shall remain nameless...
I met him in P6 (which is Year 6 in England) when I moved to a new school. He was the headmaster's son and had been instructed to show me around. Seeing as there were only 5 other kids in my year (one of which was isolated from the rest of the kids (Guantanamo style), and another a Jehovah's Witness) I became pretty good friends with him.
So we both moved up to secondry and things went well or two, during the time where everyone conforms to the collective ideas of the year-group, acting pretty much like sheep.
However, third year came along... when everyone starts to find their own musical taste, own dress-sense and basically just find themselves.
I had no trouble doing this. I'm a strong-minded person and am proud being me, not part of some social group.
He, on the other hand, was lost. One day he'd think he was a vampire, the next day a goth and then the amry-type.
Slowly I began to notice things. He was listening to my style of music, stealing my jokes and sense of humor and just gerally pretending to be me.
He was copying other people too, but me being his best friend, was getting it the worse. I was outraged. I AM UNIQUE.
So I was continually getting more and more pissed off at him progressively morphing into me and couldn't find a reason to ditch him.
Then I had a girlfriend (she was a bit weird, but that's a story for another day), and when she finished with me I found that he'd been screwing me over behind my back.
That was my reason to tell him to piss off.
He tryed to make it up with me over MSN. I told him that if he wanted to make it up with me, he could talk to me in real life. I've barely heard from him since.
And to prove my point that he was copying me, he went out with the same woman a month or so later.
The story doesn't end there. Hell no.
The best thing is I ended off better. One of my aspects of personality he stole was me being incredibly camp and pretending to be gay. So I stopped that, but he didn't. Now everyone thinks he's secretly homosexual. (So do I.)
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 17:08, Reply)
I met him in P6 (which is Year 6 in England) when I moved to a new school. He was the headmaster's son and had been instructed to show me around. Seeing as there were only 5 other kids in my year (one of which was isolated from the rest of the kids (Guantanamo style), and another a Jehovah's Witness) I became pretty good friends with him.
So we both moved up to secondry and things went well or two, during the time where everyone conforms to the collective ideas of the year-group, acting pretty much like sheep.
However, third year came along... when everyone starts to find their own musical taste, own dress-sense and basically just find themselves.
I had no trouble doing this. I'm a strong-minded person and am proud being me, not part of some social group.
He, on the other hand, was lost. One day he'd think he was a vampire, the next day a goth and then the amry-type.
Slowly I began to notice things. He was listening to my style of music, stealing my jokes and sense of humor and just gerally pretending to be me.
He was copying other people too, but me being his best friend, was getting it the worse. I was outraged. I AM UNIQUE.
So I was continually getting more and more pissed off at him progressively morphing into me and couldn't find a reason to ditch him.
Then I had a girlfriend (she was a bit weird, but that's a story for another day), and when she finished with me I found that he'd been screwing me over behind my back.
That was my reason to tell him to piss off.
He tryed to make it up with me over MSN. I told him that if he wanted to make it up with me, he could talk to me in real life. I've barely heard from him since.
And to prove my point that he was copying me, he went out with the same woman a month or so later.
The story doesn't end there. Hell no.
The best thing is I ended off better. One of my aspects of personality he stole was me being incredibly camp and pretending to be gay. So I stopped that, but he didn't. Now everyone thinks he's secretly homosexual. (So do I.)
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 17:08, Reply)
There But For The Grace Of God
Or how me and my best mate could have ended up in prison for life.
Looking back on my childhood it amazes me that I lived through it. The things we used to do were so incredibly, mind-numbingly dangerous that it's a miracle any of us survived. But we did. All of my gang made it through our childhood, past our teens and beyond - but how is a bloody mystery.
When I was kid in the 60's and 70's we used to spend most of our waking life outdoors. We’d play in the street, on derelict buildings, on building sites, out in the countryside, in farms, in quarries and even in the sewers (I'll explain about that later if I don't ramble too much). We were only indoors for school and to sleep. And some of the stuff we used to get up to was just incredible looking back on it now. For example we used to build dens in the fields. These weren't just a few bits of wood leaning against a tree, these were full-scale underground labyrinth that could take us an entire summer to excavate - they were bloody huge. And not only build them, we'd have to fight to keep them from rival gangs.
I remember one monster we dug. About 6 feet straight down then a maze of tunnels leading to a huge underground chamber. It was a feat of engineering braced and shored up with what was probably a small forest of branches and old timber. You could fit 25 kids in the main chamber easily. After we'd built it, it was taken from us by a bunch of older kids. They had girls and everything. Mightily pissed off that it was stolen, me and a mate decided to take it back - or destroy it. If we couldn't have it then nobody could.
So one fine summer day we went to take back our dugout.
Main problem we had was that there were two of us and around ten of them. They were also a few years older than us and considerably bigger. In a straight fight we'd have our heads kicked in. So a direct assault was out so that left a commando raid. My mate had managed to pinch a gallon of petrol in a can and I'd rounded up a load of bottles and some toilet paper. Only thing to do with these were petrol bombs. (It was the late-sixties. Paris riots and a all that so we knew how to make petrol bombs. Not that we had anything to do with the Paris Riots I hasten to add - but we'd gotten enough info so we knew how to make petrol bombs.). So we hid in some trees about 20 metres away from the dugout entrance and made about ten petrol bombs. We were using milk-bottles as previous experience had taught us that they were the best bottle for the purpose. Pop (soda) bottles might be bigger, but they were also too tough to break easily so milk bottles were our ordnance of choice.
Armed with our bombs we crept through the grass and assembled our little arsenal next to the main entrance. We knew the big kids were inside - we had seen them enter when we were making our bombs - so we were super-quiet until we had all bombs ready. Then we crept down the passage way (hands and knees - it wasn't very tall - and snuck up to the main chamber. I could see candle light and hear voices so we stopped and I stuffed the toilet-roll fuses into our bombs and brought out a Ronson lighter that I had. I lit the first bottle and lobbed it towards the light.. Ooops!
Armageddon! The petrol bomb smashed just on the entrance to the main chamber and WOOOOSSSSHHH! huge bloody fireball rolling back towards me. This wasn't in the plan. Luckily it stopped short of me but a blast of red-hot air almost knocked me off my feet. We didn't think that they'd go off quite like that. Shitting ourselves about what we'd done we scrambled madly from the entrance and legged it towards the trees.
And then I remembered the lads still below. We hadn't meant to kill them - only scare them We only wanted to get the fuck out of our property and leave us alone - not barbecue the bastards! Panic started to set in. We were in big trouble this time! And then I suddenly heard yells and screams and crying. Looking back onto the filed where the dugout was I saw the earth tremble and heave and then disgorge these smoking kids. They were crawling from the ground coughing and crying, snot running down there faces and clouds of black smoke were billowing out of new holes in the ground. Somehow these kids had managed to rip down some of the supports and the whole main chamber had collapsed and they'd struggled out of the burning dugout and into fresh air.
And do you know what? Not a single kid was injured. Nobody burned, nobody trapped under the collapsed dugout, nothing. Not a fucking scratch. Yes they were shocked and scared but that was it. A genuine miracle.
Can you imagine what would have happened if things had gone just a tiny bit differently? Seven or eight kids burned to death or crushed? They would have locked us up forever and thrown away the key. We would have been branded monsters. God looks after fools.....
Still scared about what could have happened, me and mate made a pact never to talk about it ever again. Until now.....
Kids today have it too easy. We had to make our own entertainment in those days.....
Cheers
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 17:01, Reply)
Or how me and my best mate could have ended up in prison for life.
Looking back on my childhood it amazes me that I lived through it. The things we used to do were so incredibly, mind-numbingly dangerous that it's a miracle any of us survived. But we did. All of my gang made it through our childhood, past our teens and beyond - but how is a bloody mystery.
When I was kid in the 60's and 70's we used to spend most of our waking life outdoors. We’d play in the street, on derelict buildings, on building sites, out in the countryside, in farms, in quarries and even in the sewers (I'll explain about that later if I don't ramble too much). We were only indoors for school and to sleep. And some of the stuff we used to get up to was just incredible looking back on it now. For example we used to build dens in the fields. These weren't just a few bits of wood leaning against a tree, these were full-scale underground labyrinth that could take us an entire summer to excavate - they were bloody huge. And not only build them, we'd have to fight to keep them from rival gangs.
I remember one monster we dug. About 6 feet straight down then a maze of tunnels leading to a huge underground chamber. It was a feat of engineering braced and shored up with what was probably a small forest of branches and old timber. You could fit 25 kids in the main chamber easily. After we'd built it, it was taken from us by a bunch of older kids. They had girls and everything. Mightily pissed off that it was stolen, me and a mate decided to take it back - or destroy it. If we couldn't have it then nobody could.
So one fine summer day we went to take back our dugout.
Main problem we had was that there were two of us and around ten of them. They were also a few years older than us and considerably bigger. In a straight fight we'd have our heads kicked in. So a direct assault was out so that left a commando raid. My mate had managed to pinch a gallon of petrol in a can and I'd rounded up a load of bottles and some toilet paper. Only thing to do with these were petrol bombs. (It was the late-sixties. Paris riots and a all that so we knew how to make petrol bombs. Not that we had anything to do with the Paris Riots I hasten to add - but we'd gotten enough info so we knew how to make petrol bombs.). So we hid in some trees about 20 metres away from the dugout entrance and made about ten petrol bombs. We were using milk-bottles as previous experience had taught us that they were the best bottle for the purpose. Pop (soda) bottles might be bigger, but they were also too tough to break easily so milk bottles were our ordnance of choice.
Armed with our bombs we crept through the grass and assembled our little arsenal next to the main entrance. We knew the big kids were inside - we had seen them enter when we were making our bombs - so we were super-quiet until we had all bombs ready. Then we crept down the passage way (hands and knees - it wasn't very tall - and snuck up to the main chamber. I could see candle light and hear voices so we stopped and I stuffed the toilet-roll fuses into our bombs and brought out a Ronson lighter that I had. I lit the first bottle and lobbed it towards the light.. Ooops!
Armageddon! The petrol bomb smashed just on the entrance to the main chamber and WOOOOSSSSHHH! huge bloody fireball rolling back towards me. This wasn't in the plan. Luckily it stopped short of me but a blast of red-hot air almost knocked me off my feet. We didn't think that they'd go off quite like that. Shitting ourselves about what we'd done we scrambled madly from the entrance and legged it towards the trees.
And then I remembered the lads still below. We hadn't meant to kill them - only scare them We only wanted to get the fuck out of our property and leave us alone - not barbecue the bastards! Panic started to set in. We were in big trouble this time! And then I suddenly heard yells and screams and crying. Looking back onto the filed where the dugout was I saw the earth tremble and heave and then disgorge these smoking kids. They were crawling from the ground coughing and crying, snot running down there faces and clouds of black smoke were billowing out of new holes in the ground. Somehow these kids had managed to rip down some of the supports and the whole main chamber had collapsed and they'd struggled out of the burning dugout and into fresh air.
And do you know what? Not a single kid was injured. Nobody burned, nobody trapped under the collapsed dugout, nothing. Not a fucking scratch. Yes they were shocked and scared but that was it. A genuine miracle.
Can you imagine what would have happened if things had gone just a tiny bit differently? Seven or eight kids burned to death or crushed? They would have locked us up forever and thrown away the key. We would have been branded monsters. God looks after fools.....
Still scared about what could have happened, me and mate made a pact never to talk about it ever again. Until now.....
Kids today have it too easy. We had to make our own entertainment in those days.....
Cheers
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 17:01, Reply)
Ahh, the memories
I've had too many intense relationships to remember! What crazy days they were... We had loadsa "fun"! ;)
In the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, the garden... you name it, we did "it" ;) there.
signed, Fred West.
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 16:39, Reply)
I've had too many intense relationships to remember! What crazy days they were... We had loadsa "fun"! ;)
In the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, the garden... you name it, we did "it" ;) there.
signed, Fred West.
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 16:39, Reply)
Threesome!
Once upon a time I was in love with my (female) best friend. As life is horribly unfair, it just so happened that the lady in question was heterosexual.
One night we got rottenly drunk with a male friend and ended up in a rather rude situation. "Result," thinks I, "now I can get a good grope of Best Friend's rather fabulous norks". Alas, she was less than impressed with my blundering ministrations, and perhaps fortunately I passed out soon after.
The next morning I had to go to the chemists to get her the morning after pill as she was too ashamed to ask for it herself. Woo.
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 16:34, Reply)
Once upon a time I was in love with my (female) best friend. As life is horribly unfair, it just so happened that the lady in question was heterosexual.
One night we got rottenly drunk with a male friend and ended up in a rather rude situation. "Result," thinks I, "now I can get a good grope of Best Friend's rather fabulous norks". Alas, she was less than impressed with my blundering ministrations, and perhaps fortunately I passed out soon after.
The next morning I had to go to the chemists to get her the morning after pill as she was too ashamed to ask for it herself. Woo.
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 16:34, Reply)
Graveyard shift
I used to have a best mate at school but gave up putting up with the fool when I was in my early twenties. I think the end was a night of drinking etc in the town centre when a minging weird slut (and I do mean really wrong lady) came up to us and offered us some flesh on flesh action. I (like others with us declined), but Michael decided this was just what he wanted and proceeded to stick his knob in her mouth whilst in a graveyard just off the high street.
Where this got unfortable was I was still present and every time I said "Err, I'll go wait for you on the high street" he stopped gob-stopping her and said "wait up/don't go" etc.
So even with back turned I had to endure about 10 mins of lolly slurping noise culminating with a desperate cry of "Do you swallow!?!?...... UrrrghhH!".
We declined the offer to go home with madam minger and after that I decided Michael and I were now in different worlds that need not meet.
Apologies for length (I didn't want to see it anyway!)
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 16:03, Reply)
I used to have a best mate at school but gave up putting up with the fool when I was in my early twenties. I think the end was a night of drinking etc in the town centre when a minging weird slut (and I do mean really wrong lady) came up to us and offered us some flesh on flesh action. I (like others with us declined), but Michael decided this was just what he wanted and proceeded to stick his knob in her mouth whilst in a graveyard just off the high street.
Where this got unfortable was I was still present and every time I said "Err, I'll go wait for you on the high street" he stopped gob-stopping her and said "wait up/don't go" etc.
So even with back turned I had to endure about 10 mins of lolly slurping noise culminating with a desperate cry of "Do you swallow!?!?...... UrrrghhH!".
We declined the offer to go home with madam minger and after that I decided Michael and I were now in different worlds that need not meet.
Apologies for length (I didn't want to see it anyway!)
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 16:03, Reply)
hudster
that story is an urban legend, and it was the last person to cum not the first that had to eat the biscuits, i can't look at another ritz biscuit again.......
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 15:56, Reply)
that story is an urban legend, and it was the last person to cum not the first that had to eat the biscuits, i can't look at another ritz biscuit again.......
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 15:56, Reply)
Me and my mate Adam have been really close for years. Not super best mates or anything, but pretty much great mates. There were bad times of course, but that's a given.
In Maths in year 11, we used to have to sit next to each other. It was cool, we used to talk a lot, and it was a laugh. "Why was it a laugh?", you think. "It was Maths!"
Well yes, but we were at that stage where gay jokes were the funniest thing ever, so under the table I would constantly rub my leg on Adam's* for a laugh, which made him laugh like mad, but eventually get annoyed with it. I wondered what was with the change. But oh well, it continued, and it remained funny.
[* Please note: I'm 100% straight, it was just fucking funny]
This lasted for a good part of 7 months.
Finally we left school, and onward came exams, so no more jokingly rubbing his leg every Maths lesson, 6 times every two weeks. And we remained great mates.
Then we found out he was actually gay, and had been since sometime early into the beginning of year 11.
I think I made him gay.
=/
Woops.
-Nick
( , Fri 28 Jul 2006, 15:53, Reply)
This question is now closed.