My Collection
Do you have display cabinets full of stuff? With it all neatly labelled, cross-referenced and entered into a database. Have you been to a convention? Do other collectors look up to you in awe?
I thought I was above this one. I'm not that autistically geeky that I have a Collection with a capital C. But no, I remembered I'm hoarding away every version of "Inside Macintosh" ever published.
What do you collect? And why? I mean, what makes you do it?
( , Thu 11 Jan 2007, 16:52)
Do you have display cabinets full of stuff? With it all neatly labelled, cross-referenced and entered into a database. Have you been to a convention? Do other collectors look up to you in awe?
I thought I was above this one. I'm not that autistically geeky that I have a Collection with a capital C. But no, I remembered I'm hoarding away every version of "Inside Macintosh" ever published.
What do you collect? And why? I mean, what makes you do it?
( , Thu 11 Jan 2007, 16:52)
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Hmmmmmmm... Nescafe
As a kid, my brother once tried collecting his farts. He approached the whole business quite scientifically; for a maladjusted sinister little bastard.
He secreted an old Nescafe jar into the bathroom and filled it to the brim with water. Every time he needed a trumpetation in the bath, he'd submerge the jar upside down, unscrew the top, push it next to his fun junction, and let rip. Once the cloud of goodness was trapped, he'd re-screw the air-tight lid underwater and replace the jar on the bathroom shelf. Voila. One trapped "genie in a bottle".
He continued with this for a number of weeks; slowly but surely replacing the water with gut gas. Until one unfortunate afternoon: 'Black Sunday' as I like to call it. My mum, wondering what an empty coffee jar was doing in the bathroom, removed the lid and got a face full of what she must have thought was the very breath of Satan. Imagine, if you will, the scene in Indiana Jones when the Nazis open the Ark of the Covenant.
One severely beaten arse later, and with the “how respectable young men should behave” lecture still ringing in his ears, my brother decided that the world of guff collecting was not for him.
( , Mon 15 Jan 2007, 17:00, Reply)
As a kid, my brother once tried collecting his farts. He approached the whole business quite scientifically; for a maladjusted sinister little bastard.
He secreted an old Nescafe jar into the bathroom and filled it to the brim with water. Every time he needed a trumpetation in the bath, he'd submerge the jar upside down, unscrew the top, push it next to his fun junction, and let rip. Once the cloud of goodness was trapped, he'd re-screw the air-tight lid underwater and replace the jar on the bathroom shelf. Voila. One trapped "genie in a bottle".
He continued with this for a number of weeks; slowly but surely replacing the water with gut gas. Until one unfortunate afternoon: 'Black Sunday' as I like to call it. My mum, wondering what an empty coffee jar was doing in the bathroom, removed the lid and got a face full of what she must have thought was the very breath of Satan. Imagine, if you will, the scene in Indiana Jones when the Nazis open the Ark of the Covenant.
One severely beaten arse later, and with the “how respectable young men should behave” lecture still ringing in his ears, my brother decided that the world of guff collecting was not for him.
( , Mon 15 Jan 2007, 17:00, Reply)
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