Should there be a vote for which QOTW animal is to be posted for the next 7 days? Or are we staying with otters?

( Fucking hell Jeff I am not a robot, Thu 22 May 2014, 10:53, 17 replies)

Got tied to a lamp post in Soho.
Still don't know how I didn't get sausaged to death.
( Amorous Badger NAKED BEA ARTHUR PHOTOS 4U, Thu 22 May 2014, 10:34, 3 replies)

Ms. Swipe has reminded me of when I drive.

( d.r._and_quinch when will you be famous?, Wed 21 May 2014, 19:29, 3 replies)

my ex oswald was an officer in the army
one weekend he was sent away on an OTC expedition. they were split into two teams, one to defend the site and one to try and take it.

only at the very last minute just as the exercise was about to start did someone discover, entirely by accident, that the "defenders" had accidentally been issued with live ammunition.

apparently there were plenty of fairly brown pants in the wash that week.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Wed 21 May 2014, 17:57, 33 replies)

when i'd been driving for a few months, we went over to yorkshire to see the family, and my dad decided the red wine was too good to pass up
so he gave me the keys to his week old company car. i was used to driving a 1970's beetle that shuddered like YM at the vinegars if it hit 50mph, so this was a dear diary moment.

on the way home, i was doing about 80-85mph in the outside lane* and wanted to be in the middle lane. i checked the mirror, flicked the indicator, and went for it. my dad, who was sitting in the passenger seat, yelled, NO!!!! there was a van that i hadn't seen, which was trying to move from the inside lane to the middle lane at exactly the same time.

i jumped and yanked the wheel back the other way. the car gave a horrible lurching screeching wobble and then i was completely out of control. you only realise how fast 80mph is when you're spinning and going sideways. unbelievably for rush hour traffic, we ended up facing the right way and totally unscathed on the hard shoulder, with not even a bruise amongst the 4 of us. i was hysterical, as i thought i'd hit lots of other cars and killed lots of people (i wouldn't wish those few minutes on anyone, no, not even you, AB or shambles), but it turned out to be where we'd bounced off the barriers.

the poor car was a total write-off. ripped to shreds. you could literally see the engineering that had held us all safe and saved all our lives. i kept crying about it, and in the end my dad said, "look, fuck the car." to which i sobbed, "i've already done that..."

people had stopped on the hard shoulder, and they had called the police/ambulance. they couldn't believe we all got out without even a scratch; one said eloquently, "i thought you'd all be pulp." they also pointed out that the van, which had been behind me and really should have seen me, had fucked off at a proper pace and had not hung around to see what happened.

still all's well that ends well, especially as the claim was on the company's insurance with just a small excess to pay (apparently it costs a fortune to repair motorway barriers as they often have to close the motorway or some of the lanes). but i woke up having nightmares about the sensation of slamming sideways across a busy motorway for about 3 years afterwards. shudder.


*why the fuck do they call it that? clearly it is the inside lane. it is INSIDE the motorway
( rachelswipe with a fork, Wed 21 May 2014, 17:49, 13 replies)

the 5 steps to drowning
step 1: realise the waves are a bit more than you can handle and panic slightly.

step 2: attempt to swim back to safety. work out that this is beyond you, then panic more and swallow some water.

step 3: freak out totally, swallow more water, cry for help and start to sink.

step 4: calm down completely as you slip into unconsciousness.

step 5(optional): get hooked out of the water by a lifeguard and get given mouth-to-mouth until you spew water. vow never to go to rhyl sun centre again.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Wed 21 May 2014, 15:03, 8 replies)

I watched a film that had a sudden scare in it.
I was mildly frightened.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Wed 21 May 2014, 13:41, 1 reply)

Another camping one
Staggering out of the tent in the New Forest, after a particularly drunken night, I wandered down to the wooded area for my morning piss. It seemed to be taking a long time for the clouds of steam to clear; then I realised that the leaf litter below me was smouldering, with orange glowing patches visible under the ash. The more I looked, the more I found - an area about ten feet across was smouldering and spreading.

This was a problem, as we were currently enjoying a protracted heatwave, and the whole of Southern England was on wildfire alert. Even worse, I remembered that, as I'd stumbled back to my tent to pass out, one of our party had announced that no bloody heatwave was going to take away his fun of sitting around a camp fire, and had led a group off in this general direction. So it looked like our party was about to be responsible for burning down the New Forest!

I alerted the others, and we managed - after countless trips to the taps - to put out the creeping orange infection, without alerting anyone. We then rounded on the perpetrator, and pointed out that it had been pretty stupid to light a fire last night. Especially as he was a firefighter by trade...
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Wed 21 May 2014, 13:34, Reply)

Explodey firework death
A few years back I went up to Primrose Hill with a bunch of friends to watch the fireworks. I was sitting on the grass with my girlfriend on my right, some girls to the left of me and beyond them was the path up the hill, on the other side of which were some more revellers who were letting off rockets and whatnot. I became aware of some sort of commotion to my left, with people shouting and a loud fizzing noise. I turned to my right to find that my missus had disappeared. I turned back to my left to find that the other girls had disappeared and realised that I was now sitting directly in the path of a rocket that had tipped over. Remembering what I was told as an army cadet, I dropped to my right so the heavy soles of my boots were facing the danger and pulled my leather coat over my head. I don't remember much about what happened next, just a series of loud bangs and flashes, but thankfully the gods of third-degree burns were smiling on me and I escaped unscathed. It did give me the opportunity to find out what my last words would be when faced with an imminent explosion, though.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Wed 21 May 2014, 13:33, 13 replies)

Things blow up, things fall down
The North coast of Ireland is lovely, especially on a spring evening when one is walking with a beautiful lady on his arm. Not like a puppet, you know, like all the way up her.. but.. just walking. Filthy brutes.

Anyway... walking along, being cool and witty, hoping to score a bit of intimacy. We reached a bonfire near to the cliff edge, where some people had obviously been having a bit of a soirée. Nonchalantly, I gave one of the bottles a kick but, due to my fascination with my partners bubs, I didn't notice it rolling into the fire.

I then discovered something remarkable... Should a partly full bottle of whiskey be kicked into a bonfire, the resulting fiery explosion would cause me to squeal like a gelded squirrel and spring away like a rubber ninja.

My effort to avoid Flaming Death brought me into close proximity to "Failing to Fly". Luckily the fickle Lords of Caprice chose to spare me and I was able to stop myself a few inches away from the edge.

Oddly, my unmanly behaviour didn't endear myself to my (now ex-) girlfriend. She seemed to think I should've shielded her with my body. Weird.
(csdaveuk, Wed 21 May 2014, 12:14, 2 replies)

☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

 
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Wed 21 May 2014, 9:42, 6 replies)

I’VE REGENERATED!!!
Oh my word! What a weekend I’ve just had, sweeties! Unlike any weekend that you poor humans could ever experience. I am, as a result of it, quite literally a different person! Oh my! Oh me! Ah hee hee hee!

Yes – I’VE REGENERATED!!!!!!

Because, as you know, my lovely, loyal, fond, fluffy fans, I am a Time Lord, and therefore I do not die – I regenerate. I can do this twelve times, and, at the end of my thirteenth incarnation, if I make a big enough fucking fuss, the Time Lords will grant me a new regenerative cycle. And, if not, my mind will live on within the Matrix, the biggest library of pan-dimensional porn, and, indeed, poon, in the entire Universe.

I can even survive being all minced up in a wood-chipper:

www.b3ta.com/questions/selfinflictedinjury/post2160448

But sometimes regeneration can go horridly, horridly wrong:

www.b3ta.com/questions/bodyhorror/post2015627

And sometimes – like this time – it can go wunderfully, wunderfully right!

O you should see me now, my febrile, fussy, fondant fans! So sexmous it’s UNREAL. My old body – ugh! How could I ever have been satisfied with that grey, grizzly, wrinkled old thing!

So now, let me relate the story of my latest regeneration – my latest Near Death Experience, if you will.

It happened on Saturday. I was down in Plymouth, on business, and, in the evening, I sought out – as you do – a young ‘Matlow’ (as the local ‘Janners’) have it) for some energetic, brutal anal sex. (My last incarnation was a naughty old thing! Not like me now! I’m all sweetness and light and nice as pie!)

I picked up this young chap called Wayne fresh off the boat, a real wowza blond blue-eyed looker, a swoonsome Billy Budd straight off a Player’s Navy Cut poster, beard and all. (Oh Wayne, I’m so sorry! I wish I could turn back time – but my TARDIS is broken!) I wanted to show him off before I took him back to the Invicta Hotel for buggerance, so we went to the Bank for a few pints and then to the Ganges for a slap-up sit-down. Wayne ordered a boring Chicken Bhoona, but I, ever adventurous, intrepid and daring, ordered the XXXXXX-Hot Beef Murg Phaaal with Extra Chillies.

The waiter gasped and his eyes almost popped out of his head. ‘Are you sure, Sir? This is not only the hottest curry known to Man... but the hottest curry known to Science!’

I chortled and waved him away, recalling the time I won a chilli-eating contest with a load of Pyrovilians. ‘Bring it on!’ I drawled, winking at Wayne. ‘I think you will find that I have an iron constitution. Despite my appearance I am as strong as a 100 oxen and have the bowels of a concrete Skarasen!’

True enough. My Time Lord metabolism, with its two hearts and respiratory bypass system, is far, far superior to that of you puny humans.

Or so I thought! I underestimated the power of the XXXXXX-Hot Beef Murg Phaaal with Extra Chillies. When it was brought to the table it spontaneously burst into flames, singeing the waiter's eyebrows! And everyone in the Ganges gasped in horror and admiration as I began to shovel it down with alacrity, impressing young Wayne. It was, I admit, rather on the warm side, and it did bring one or two tears to my Time Lord eyes.

I brought tears to Wayne’s eyes, Wayne’s beautiful blue human eyes, after the meal when I took him back to the Invicta, greased him up, and buggered him half to death (I was a beast in my last incarnation!)

Afterwards, as we both lay back in the warm afterglow of our love, I began to discern rumblings of disquiet from below. The XXXXXX-Hot Beef Murg Phaaal with Extra Chillies was beginning to make its presence felt! I don’t like to be vulgar, in my new incarnation, so, suffice it to say that I let out a series of farts so stupendous in their volume, duration and odour that afterwards all intergalactic flatulence records lay as smashed as poor Wayne’s ringpiece.

We both lay stunned in the fetid miasma, struggling to breathe, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Wayne reach for his cigarettes and lighter, no doubt to commence the ritual of the post-coital smoke.

‘Wayne – NO!’ I screamed.

Too late.

There was a colossal WHUMPPP and Everything. Went. BLANK.

When I came round, it was morning. I was lying on a bed covered with ashes next to the still-smoking corpse of Wayne. (Oh Wayne! I’m so sorry, honey! But thank you from the bottom of my hearts for precipitating this regeneration, it was about time for it!) In a flash I remembered the fateful events of the night before. My hands touched my legs, my sides, to feel firm, warm flesh. I was intact! But how? Then I realised. I had regenerated!

I sat up in the bed. New teeth – yes, that other Doctor is right, teeth are the first thing a Time Lord becomes aware of in their newly regenerated body, and it does feel weird.

I gazed down at my new body, seeing pale, petite feet, long, shapely, slender legs – and, between them, a V of fuzzy curly black hair. My hands went to my chest, where they encountered a pair of small, but firm, breasts.

The first words of a Time Lord’s new incarnation should be witty, wise, portentous, meaningful and weighted with truth and wisdom and all things great.

Mine were: ‘Ooh! I’ve got boobies! Ha ha! Ha ha haaa! Boobies!’

Rather obviously, my new incarnation was female!

I sat there jiggling my new boobs and laughing to myself for a while, and then leapt off the bed to examine myself. The last time I’d been female, I was a tall, curvaceous, ivory-skinned, green-eyed, copper-haired goddess. In this incarnation – my ninth, I think, though you can never be sure - I was again tall, but slender and gangly, not really curvy, with small, but firm, breasts. My hair was long, wavy and black, and my face was triangular and rather cute, with bright blue rather cold-looking eyes, a snub nose and a wicked smile. Think Audrey Hepburn crossed with Jacqueline Pearce.

I then quickly dressed and ran downstairs to sort things out with the hotel, putting the explosion down to a faulty gas-miser or something (so excited I forget the details!)

Then I returned home to choose my costume (kinky boots, tight blue jeans, white shirt, black leather pilot jacket) and have a think. Regeneration always makes a Time Lord have a good old sort out of his – her – life, and so it was with me. Obviously I had to chuck in my job – there was no way I could ever explain my change of appearance, and gender, to my employers! I fired off a quick email to close that loop, and am now unemployed. I have enough funds to support myself for a while and foresee no problems in finding new employment, in fact, things are moving pretty swiftly on that front, sweeties!

So I have a lot of time on my hands right now, plenty of opportunity to tell stories here, a pastime I know my previous incarnation loved and one which I will keep up cos it seems like such jolly fun!

Maybe this regeneration will have shaken my mind up a bit and I’ll be able to fix my TARDIS and leave this planet once and for all – or maybe even breach the omnivoox and return to my own reality.

But don’t worry, until then, I’ll be here for you, sweeties!

Your same old, BRAND NEW, SUPER SMEXY Doctor Skagra!

XXX!!!
(Dr Skagra glorious glargzhem, Tue 20 May 2014, 22:14, 14 replies)

I was living in isolation doing the whole self-sufficient thing. I had planted out my spring cropping vegetables,
when I noticed that they had caught a particularly nasty cockchafer infestation. Consulting old cookery books I noticed that I could collect these larvae and have my self a feast, delicious. The cockchafer can really destroy vegetables and I would have had a near dearth experience had I not caught the little cockchafers in time..
( d.r._and_quinch when will you be famous?, Tue 20 May 2014, 20:32, Reply)

On a camping trip...
... with the scouts...

Sitting around the final embers of a campfire on a cool misty morning, drinking tea, and enjoying the last warmth from the coals while we waited for the bus to come get us. I stood up, wandered away from the rest of the group to have one last look around the site to make sure we hadn't left anything behind.

I got a few paces when I was thrown forward by an enormous explosion behind me.
I got up to see the sight of all my mates, some still sitting on their seats, some with cups still in hand but most lying on their backs. A few were frantically patting out little ember fires on their clothes and in their hair.

Me? I walked back unharmed, to find a clean, polished, completely flat baked bean can embedded in the tree that I had been leaning against. The deadly heinz powered, razor sharp ninja throwing star had passed through roughly where my neck had been moments before.

Someone - who never owned up - had decided to put a full unopened tin in the fire, presumably to see what would happen and maybe spray his friends with beans for a bit of a laugh.

I had nightmares about it for years.
.
.
True story.
TLDR: Nearly got decapitated by a bean can.
( gp_guineapig, Tue 20 May 2014, 20:26, Reply)

My yacht sank.
Fortunately, my shipmates and I made it into the lifeboats, so I'm sure we'll be picked up soon.
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Tue 20 May 2014, 13:43, 8 replies)

I watched Akira last night. That was my Neo Tokyo experience.

( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Tue 20 May 2014, 13:42, 5 replies)

Had a lovely time in Portugal.

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Tue 20 May 2014, 12:26, 7 replies)

I once went to see the Foo Fighters and stood in the second row from the front.
I really enjoyed my near Dave experience.
( Amorous Badger NAKED BEA ARTHUR PHOTOS 4U, Tue 20 May 2014, 12:08, Reply)

I once went past the Dublin Electronic Arts Festival.
( Muns, Tue 20 May 2014, 11:59, Reply)

An epic pea while I compose myself to tell a story of true near death caused by the internet

Cast your mind back to 1994 and Imagine if you will the young Australian traveller on his first visit to the continent. After a 24 hour flight to Frankfurt and a 4 hour train ride he arrives at Amsterdam for his first taste of the Dutch.

After finding a cheap and seedy hotel, he ventures to the nearest café to see if the rumours are true and you really can buy dope over the counter. Imagine if you will his utter delight when he finds not only can you buy the aforementioned brew but, you have a variety of interestingly named types to choose. With skunk, super skunk, northern lights, blonde bomb or grasshopper special blend running through his over excited brain he murmurs to the resident purveyor,

“What’s your best shit mate?”

For which the retailer asks “what sort of high are you looking for?”

“I want it to smash me”

40 guilders later he is clutching a bag of super skunk. Taking a seat at the bar, he orders a coffee (consumption compulsory) and roles up fat spliff after fat spliff disappearing for several hours into a cloud of pungent smoke.

Finally he makes to leave, baseball hat crammed on to his head, sun glasses firmly on face, back pack on shoulder he strides out the door and across the street when he hears it……………

The faintest of ding dings.

For reasons unknown,

he stops,

dead in his tracks as a rush of wind buffets his face and a 20 tonne tram knocks the baseball hat from his head and under it wheels.

“WHAT SORT OF COUNTRY IS THIS WHERE THEY HAVE FUCKING TRAINS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET” he cries to no one.

length: 3 more inches forward, he would have died that day a long way from home where nobody new his name.
(bad_advice QOTW survivor from the first trollocost!, Tue 20 May 2014, 11:52, 29 replies)

A now sadly closed record shop round here..
...used to have a slightly eccentric owner who used to insist on sorting all his albums by record label rather by genre or alphabetically on the grounds like 'collectors are interested in particular labels'.

I used to enjoy standing close by the shelf that held discs by the likes of LL Cool J, Public Enemy, Ja Rule, Redman, Johnny Cash and Slayer.
( Amorous Badger NAKED BEA ARTHUR PHOTOS 4U, Tue 20 May 2014, 11:27, 5 replies)

☆*･゜ﾟ･*\(^O^)/*･゜ﾟ･*☆

 
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Tue 20 May 2014, 9:22, 9 replies)

Can we have some more otter pictures please

( Fucking hell Jeff I am not a robot, Mon 19 May 2014, 16:02, 17 replies)

Felt queasy before getting to work.
I did about an hour of work and collapsed. As I came around, all I can remember is the paramedic saying to someone, "We won't need the defibrillator now." They took me to hospital where I did eventually get my shit together.
All I can remember whilst out for the count was standing on a ledge under the shade of a tree looking out over the sea. Didn't see any relatives or white light, just felt pure bliss.
( $$ ✅, Mon 19 May 2014, 15:55, 8 replies)

the egg
several years ago, i had an umbilical hernia, which i nicknamed the egg. my doctor told me that, as long as it wasn't giving me any trouble, it was ok to leave it for a while before having it operated on. as this was before the weight loss, i knew that an op would be more dangerous, so i decided to do as he said.

scroll forwards 18 months and i'm doubled over in pain at 11.00 at night, with what i suspect to be yet another bad case of IBS. i'd taken my medication, but the pain was intense. i can't drive and didn't have the money to get a cab to hospital, so i phoned my friend. sadly, he'd been drinking and refused to drive anywhere. i decided to try to sleep it off.
half an hour later, the pain increased to a level i'd never experienced before. i just couldn't cope with it, so i gave in and phoned an ambulance. as soon as it arrived, i was given morphine, which instantly eased the pain.
on arrival at my local a&e department, i was wheeled directly into a cubicle and was being examined by a doctor within 2 minutes.
within 10 minutes, i was in x-ray.
within 20 minutes, i was signing surgical release forms.
not long after, i was in theatre, having a strangulated to the point of explosion colon repaired.
when the doctor came to see me on the ward the next day, he told me if i'd tried to sleep off the pain, there's very little chance that i would ever have woken up. when i'd arrived, i had had only a few hours left, that's how close it was.
since then, i've learned not to second-guess either myself or medical professionals.

clarification: the egg was indeed a hernia, but it was almost my entire colon inside it that caused it.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Mon 19 May 2014, 14:31, 4 replies)

Hi, I'm Sheriff John Bunnell.
In the next 30 threads you will witness some of the world's worst drivers and world's wildest police video chases.
( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Mon 19 May 2014, 13:36, 4 replies)

Apologies in advance
I had a friend from Newcastle who got into a bit of financial trouble and in a bid to help him avoid a bad credit rating, I offered to pay some of his creditors off. I was met with the response "They're nee yerr debts.".

Downloading shame now.
(RebelWithoutApplause My underestimation will almost be the death of me, Mon 19 May 2014, 11:21, 3 replies)

Junior Longjohn
Dunno how close to death this would've been, more like round the corner from Death, on nodding terms kinda thing:

One of my earliest memories is of being on a family Jollyday to some greasy spanish campsite. A day out to the local zoo proved a bit more harrowing than the usual 'why does that grubby polar bear look so sad mummy?' emotional trauma, although the true horror of what could've been only really sunk in years later.

In the reptile house, there was a small tiled enclosure, sunk into the ground and partioned off by a sturdy metal fence, which, critically, had a 3-4 inch gap at the bottom. This enclosure contained what appeared to be wooden crocodiles; whether they were all wooden or only some were, or they were all real but very lazy I will never know. All I do know is at the time, I thought they weren't real. That is, until one reared up and attempted to munch my toddler toes off, which were sticking through the gap at the bottom of the fence. A quick step back and no harm was done, I remember being largely unfazed by the near miss, probably due to shock, whilst parental what-the-fucks bounced off the tiles around me.

I often wonder what life would've been like with a metallic robot foot, perhaps with retractable wheels, pulsating LEDs like Kit's face from Knightrider and a small recess in which to store interesting pebbles/acorns. But that's another matter.
(RebelWithoutApplause My underestimation will almost be the death of me, Mon 19 May 2014, 11:12, 1 reply)

My wife.
This weekend she cut her hand on bit of broken glass, I stopped her from bleeding to death by putting a plaster on the wound.

I'm not sure that it was near death, but you'd have fucking thought it with the way she was banging on about it for hours afterwards!
( Muns, Mon 19 May 2014, 10:42, 8 replies)

Pushed from a moving car...
...or perhaps I jumped. Entirely too many beers at a movie premiere party, and on the ride home, I was ejected from a moving car. Details are still a bit foggy as to how it all happened, even years later.

I am led to understand that my bootheels caught, causing a near perfect backflip. Only my head got in the way of the street. Twenty-some-odd staples later, and a very nice policeman telling me "It's not unlawful to eject yourself from a moving vehicle, but to most folks it seems like a bad enough idea to prevent giving it a go.".

I remember waking up in the gutter, bleeding profusely, and trying to shrug it off and walk home. The following day, we found a lovely splat about the size of a smallish apple where I first landed, and a huge dried red splotch a bit further down where I lay unconscious bleeding for a moment.

...I don't drink any more, but not because of this moment of foolishness years ago.
(Floz sells fried objects, Mon 19 May 2014, 7:47, 1 reply)