Karma
Sue Denham writes, "I once slipped out of work two hours early without the boss noticing. In my hurry to make the most of this petty victory, I knocked myself out on the car door and spent the rest of the day semi-conscious, bowking rich brown vomit over my one and only suit."
Have you been visited by the forces of Karma, or watched it happen to other people?
Thanks to Pooflake for the suggestion
( , Thu 21 Feb 2008, 14:24)
Sue Denham writes, "I once slipped out of work two hours early without the boss noticing. In my hurry to make the most of this petty victory, I knocked myself out on the car door and spent the rest of the day semi-conscious, bowking rich brown vomit over my one and only suit."
Have you been visited by the forces of Karma, or watched it happen to other people?
Thanks to Pooflake for the suggestion
( , Thu 21 Feb 2008, 14:24)
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Festival Karma.
Once upon a time (well, a few summers ago) I went to the Ennerdale music festival up in the Lake District.
I was supposed to give a friend a lift - however I got a phone call from a few people I knew who were staying at a hippy commune up in Scotland at the time. "Don't take him!", they said. "He's a thief and a wanker!"
These later turned out to be totally unfounded allegations, and the real reason I wasn't to take him was because they were both headcases and had both had long and convoluted on-and-off relationships with him, where presumably he had got sick and tired of their bullshit.
So me, the naive arsehole that I was, listened to them and didn't take him.
He made it anyway - he got a lift with someone else - there were bad vibes all round, I had a shit time, it pissed down and I didn't have any clean socks. That was my karma.
Their (the Scotland crew's) karma?
Well, their car's engine exploded on the way down, costing them a thousand quid to fix and meaning they never made it to the festival.
The odd thing is that I'm still quite good friends with all of the people concerned, they're just stubborn as fuck and all mental. And me? I listen to my heart, rather than my dick.
( , Fri 22 Feb 2008, 16:43, Reply)
Once upon a time (well, a few summers ago) I went to the Ennerdale music festival up in the Lake District.
I was supposed to give a friend a lift - however I got a phone call from a few people I knew who were staying at a hippy commune up in Scotland at the time. "Don't take him!", they said. "He's a thief and a wanker!"
These later turned out to be totally unfounded allegations, and the real reason I wasn't to take him was because they were both headcases and had both had long and convoluted on-and-off relationships with him, where presumably he had got sick and tired of their bullshit.
So me, the naive arsehole that I was, listened to them and didn't take him.
He made it anyway - he got a lift with someone else - there were bad vibes all round, I had a shit time, it pissed down and I didn't have any clean socks. That was my karma.
Their (the Scotland crew's) karma?
Well, their car's engine exploded on the way down, costing them a thousand quid to fix and meaning they never made it to the festival.
The odd thing is that I'm still quite good friends with all of the people concerned, they're just stubborn as fuck and all mental. And me? I listen to my heart, rather than my dick.
( , Fri 22 Feb 2008, 16:43, Reply)
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