To them, it was just good business.
To me, though, it meant a lot.

It was the summer of 2006, and to celebrate the 250th anniversary of the birth of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, the entire city of Salzburg was throwing a party. The world was invited. To assist in these celebrations, my friend- and his orchestra- were going to Salzburg to perform some of Mozart's works. I had tickets to the venue, and was required to make my own way to and from Salzburg.

I thought this was also a good chance for me to catch up with a friend, who now lived in Vienna.

So I booked my tickets, flying from Manchester, via Amsterdam, to Vienna, with KLM. I got the train tickets to Manchester Airport sorted, changing at Picadilly.

This is where things started to go wrong. My train from Sheffield to Manchester Picadilly was delayed, by 20 minutes. As the train pulled in to Manchester Picadilly, I watched as my connecting train to the airport left. Nevermind, this was an open ticket, I would get the next train to the airport.

And I did. The next train was an hour later. This was cutting deep into the comfortable timescale I'd set for myself.

Unfortunately, it wasn't good enough. I got to the terminal 20 minutes before take off, 5 minutes after boarding had finished. I explained the situation to the KLM lady at the desk, but she wasn't interested. I asked if I could exchange the ticket for another flight, but she said I couldn't. Fair enough, thought I, it does say non-exchangeable. I then asked if there were any other flights to Vienna that day, but she shooed me away, and quickly left the desk.

I was quite upset by this. I made phone calls to KLM, phone calls to my friend in Vienna, my hotel in Salzburg.. I was close to cancelling the entire journey, and trying to get back as much money as I could, when I heard an "excuse me!" coming from the desk I'd just been at.

Next to the KLM desk, was an Air France desk. The two ladies from Air France had overheard my situation, and while I was calling around, they had looked for flights to Vienna for me. They offered me either a flight via Paris the next day, with Air France, or a flight today, via Frankfurt, with Lufthansa. I opted for the Lufthansa flight.

The Air France ladies called through to their colleagues at Lufthansa. I had 30 minutes 'til the flight started boarding. I ran. The Lufthansa staff were very helpful, and very quick to take my money. They gave me directions to the gate, told me where to check my bags in to get through most quickly, and generally did everything short of hold my hand and take me to the plane.

I made it in good time. I had a fantastic time in Vienna, I went to the beautiful town of Zell am See, and attended a magnificent concert in Salzburg. In all, I had a very good time in Austria, after coming so close to not getting there at all.

I know it's a small thing, and I know it probably meant nothing more to the Air France and Lufthansa staff than just getting one more customer- but I'm still very thankful to them; it remains one of the nicest things ever done for me by relative strangers.
( Thinker, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 22:44, 1 reply)

my b3ta birthday comes up this month
i've never seen any of my candles so far

it would be nice if someone would remind me

sorry for being bit hopeless

:)
( spimf ™ is whoever you want him to be, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 22:05, 3 replies)

Prepare the tissues...
There's two things here, and I'm going to be all selfish and tell you both of them.

The first one was many years ago. I'm desperately tired after a week at work which seemed to consist of various flaming arseholes in various parts of the country having a 'see how far we can kick purplegod's arse up his back' contest. Come Friday night, I'm trying to stop my stomach tearing its way out of my middle and struggling to read a story to DemiGod. Halfway through, just as all the one-syllable words are getting too difficult, he sat up, crawled over to me and put his little arms around me. He whispered in my ear "Don't worry about my story if you're tired, Dad. There's always tomorrow night." I dropped the book and held him tight until he fell asleep.

The second is still in progress, and I hope will last forever. Pink Goddess took me in, shared her life with me, helped me move house twice, looks after me better than anyone, cares for me, sends me texts when I feel down, puts up with me being strange (actually, think stranger than that*), copes with my geekyness, puts up with DemiGod, tidies up after me, holds me in her arms all night, and generally adores me. She even wears clothes that I've ironed without much complaining, and has been known to eat the food I cook. She even knew exactly the right moment during Mary Poppins to hand me a tissue. And she let me have a cat. All in all, wow. I can't say how grateful I am, there are not the words in the whole world.

(* yeah, and stranger than _that_, too)
(purplegod counting down for Christmas!, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 22:02, 1 reply)

I can't think of anything.
This saddens me, and tells me that I am an ungrateful bastard.

My wife married me.
My parents raised me.
My boss hired me.
My friends love me.

And none of them had to.

Seriously, my lack of gratitude is depressing me.
( setimret likes his metaphors mixed, not stirred, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 21:30, Reply)

Nicest?
We met when I was 15 and he was 27, all was well minus the 12 year age gap and the fact he technically a peadophile.
He robbed me off my youth, innocence and any faith in men.
Maybe I'm still abit bitter but I'm sure he meant it all In a nice way

Nice to get it out
(GhettoBird, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 21:17, 6 replies)

Mr Cunt is a fucking retard
I pointed it out to b3ta and hopefully he's fucked off. So there's my nice thing for you all.
( Barry Chuckle III - the troll with a soul., Mon 6 Oct 2008, 20:30, 7 replies)

I did a charity walk
It was 40 miles so as you can imagine I was pretty stiff by the end of it.

I woke up the next morning about 5ish in complete agony so i decided that an early morning bath would ease my pain.

When I felt a bit better I went to get out of the bath but Id completely seized up, I could barely move my legs let alone lift myself up.

Luckily (and I dont know why) I had my phone on the side of the bath and managed to ring my friend who I'd leant a key to a few weeks earlier. She came round at 6 in the morning to help a very naked me out of the bath and put me back into bed with numerous hot water bottles and an assortment of food.. She even brought up the kettle and a jug of water so I could make myself a brew :)

God bless her
(i should have joined myspace, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 18:44, Reply)

Say It With Pissy Flowers
I occasionally have to travel around the country for work, but as I'm a freelancer, quite often have to sort accommodation myself.

Last month I found myself having to move to a south-western city I'd never been to before, and knew no-one there. I started looking at short-term let flats: not an option. Hotels? Too expensive. All I could afford was a single room in a fleapit guesthouse, which I was potentially going to be calling 'home' for the next month. I was desperately trying to find a house-share, but no-one wanted a lodger for only one month. Until I got in contact with C.

She was advertising a room for rent for 6-months, but I figured I'd explain my situation and see if she was interested. I sent her an e-mail and a picture, she sent one back - she was absolutely stunning. I met her one evening to see if we got on, and was over the moon that she was okay with me moving in. She even laughed at my jokes, and didn't seemed to mind that I was quite drunk when she arrived (well, she had arrived an hour and a half late).

I moved in. As fantastic as she was, she'd told me she'd very recently ended a long-term relationship and was still raw about it - I decided early on that it wouldn't be right to try anything on, particularly since if she wasn't interested, she'd probably feel a bit uncomfortable for the rest of my stay. And frankly, she was WAY out of my league.

Her house was huge and absolutely stunning, the rent reasonable, she gave me a lift to work almost every day, and we'd cook for each other. Almost every evening we'd sit, talk, discuss our disastrous love lives and put the world to rights. After a week I knew more of her secrets than I did of my closest friends, and she kept me company for all of what would have otherwise been a miserable stay in a tatty guesthouse.

It maybe wasn't much, but she'd really taken a chance on me - before I moved in she had never met me sober, took my word I could afford to pay her (she didn't even take any money from me until about 5 days in) and was one of the most genuine people I've met.

***EPILOGUE***

Days before my job was due to finish, she persuaded me to stay on an extra couple of days so that we could have a night on the town. Sounded good - I could have a day of wandering around not having to be at work, and I'd get to spend a little more time with her.

We had an awesome night - a lot of drinking, dancing, laughing. I think it was clear there was a mutual attraction (it may have been the booze). We stayed up talking until about 3, then went to our separate bedrooms, me cursing that I should said how I felt.

The next morning I had to leave. In the first week with her, she'd mentioned her favourite flowers - I'd secretly bought some and left them in the wardrobe of my now empty room, with a card saying thanks, and that I'd miss her.

I woke her up. We were both hungover and sad to be saying goodbye, and I was running late for a train, so after a hug I left. She had agreed to come and visit, and I said that I'd call her that evening.

On my way to the station, I sent her a text message, saying I'd "drunk too much last night and had a bit of an accident, and she might want to clean up the wardrobe" - expecting her to rush upstairs in a panic, see the flowers, and think that I was pretty fantastic. She hadn't even dressed for work when I left, so was expecting a reply of "Ha ha, thanks" in the next few minutes... but nothing.

After an hour, I started to worry - and then OH GOD! I hadn't considered that she was a total neat freak... if she arrived at work and THEN saw the message, she'd spend all day going MENTAL. Oops. Why couldn't I just send a normal message?!!! I'm a twat. I sent one explaining that I was joking. Still nothing.

From sending the message at 9am, I didn't hear from her until 11pm. She called, said "thanks for the flowers... I thought you'd pissed in the wardrobe." She'd believed the first message. The second hadn't changed that. Over the course of the day, I think her feelings for me might have changed.

I haven't heard from her since, despite trying, which is a real shame.


I should have just pissed in the wardrobe.



Length? About 300 miles now.
(Sloppy Giuseppe, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 18:05, 2 replies)

whether they liked it or not?
erm
Stopped when I said no?
(waxdart hello., Mon 6 Oct 2008, 17:17, Reply)

Someone has just reminded me
that some months ago I was expressing the desire to read Stephen King's Dark Tower series, but I'd never found the first volume on sale secondhand (I only buy secondhand books).

A kind and friendly b3tan offered to send it to me.

At first I was mildly concerned with giving out my address because he is a bit stabby but I went with it and lo! a shiny copy of the book arrived at my door!

Thoroughly enjoyable it was too.

so, to the b3tan, thanks ;-)
( Vipros. clever got me this far, then tricky got me in, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 17:14, 7 replies)

I have just spent
the whole day ripping out carpets and painting the hall, stairs & landing. Just then, completely unbidden and un-asked for, my wife has just landed in through the door with a chilled case of 12 assorted Wychwood ales.

How nice is that!
(uk_viper stopped lurking on, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 17:01, 4 replies)

Parents
At first, people might not think this is 'nice', but it's just occurred to me that actually it was.

When I was rather much smaller than I am now (this being the norm for people at about the age of 1 year) my parents did the divorce thing. This being due to my father's errant todger, however it was not a 'filthy man doing shagging around' as he's been married to his second wife longer than he was married to my mother (which incidentally was not a short length of time (aside: married for 11 years. Have one child, all ok. Have another child: divorce inside 18 months. What the funk did I do that was I so bad?! Apart from shit everywhere and scream)).

Yes, I agree that doing the nasty when you have two children under 5 at home is not a terribly nice thing to do, but I am speaking of the divorce itself.

There are a huge number of posts on this site regarding people breaking up and how crappy it can be when one half of the pair acts like a complete twunt and pretty much ruins life and future for the other.

My parents' divorce lawyer expressed incredulity and great respect for the manner in which they handled their break up. At one meeting he indicated the size of their folder with the relevant documents inside: about 2 cm thick.
On the desk was a huge tome just about as full as it can get. This was one of 2 folders for another couple who were at each others throats with, of course, some kiddies in the middle.

Throughout my childhood neither my sister nor I were used as pawns by either parent to get at the other. Nor were we lied to about who our parents were (my dad obviously had a new partner, and my mother got another bloke within a year (not that there was anything going on before that, you understand)) or why they split up (mind you the one time we did tearfully ask him why, we didn't question the "we just stopped loving each other" response. I should ask him about that... It might be true but it doesn't explain his winky escapades). Sure there were times when one parent didn't like something the other had done, but it never got out of hand or went court-wise.
The maintenance money of £100 a month each didn't change from 1985 until we'd both finished further education (at 22 years of age in both cases). So many other mothers would have gone back to court to get an increase over the years, what with inflation (at the very least) and changes in my father's employment. But then again my father could have stopped at 18 which was what was agreed in court - he even kept paying when he was unemployed for a year and still supporting two younger children.

So my point? Well, I'm a little fked up but who isn't? Some of it can be attributed to early family life, but mostly to other things *cough*.
But having an amicable divorce when you have young people on hand is a rather spiffy thing to do for the kids.

Oh - and my stepfather was/is a very nice man who's always treated me and my sister like his own and considers us such.
I reckon it's because he was going to ask my mum out but my dad got there first. But he married my mum 32 years later, so he won. Woot.

My stepmother on the other hand... well I got her back by being all upset and what not when I used to visit when I was very young. I think I must be the same age now as she was back then. How would I feel about drying off a tearful toddler covered in his own wee pretty much every night? Heh. I win.
(tweebianmonkey Should be known as Widget, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 16:58, 2 replies)

[Pats self on back]
It's great reading all the stories of great parents. Believe me, it ain't always easy. But bringing up kids is easy compared with dealing with teenagers. The effort needed to get a sulky, moody, tired, intelligent, girl to do her homework and pass her O and A levels while falling out with friends and pining over boys ["They all think I'm ugly" etc. etc.] was huge, especially when she blamed us for everything.

Then, at university, she almost dropped out in year one, depressed, missing a whole module - we picked her up, brought her home for pampering, nursed her through it, although we ourselves were suffering from empty-nest syndrome - didn't see that one coming!!! We helped with application forms, threatened landlords when they didn't give deposits back and acted as taxi/removal service/washing service/free money dispenser/food parcel supplier, helped her with proof-reading her dissertation, etc. etc. Nagged her when she needed it, cajoled her when nagging didn't work, then retreated to a safe distance so she could learn for herself.

And now: she's happy and well-adjusted, living in a flat in London with a decent boyfriend, and is just starting her first permanent full-time job in roughly the field she studied. She talks to us like a grown up and is grateful for all we've done and even asks us for advice and actually listens when we give it. All we did was to be parents the right way. Kept calm when she was going through the agonies of the teens. Set boundaries and let her know that they were non-negotiable, were always there for her, supported her through thick and thin; loved her.

Now, we can get our heads down to start paying off the debt we ran up getting her through 3 comfortable years as a student. We never let on to her how close to the wind we were sailing and wouldn't dream of doing so - though she always knew it wasn't easy for us. With luck we'll soon be able to help her out again if she needs a deposit or something and when the grandkids turn up we'll be there to dote on them and spoil them.

There will be times when you think: "What are we getting out of this? Why bother? What thanks do we get?" Stick with it.

So, thanks Sprog Grimsdale - you're credit to your proud parents and a delightful person.
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 16:36, 3 replies)

went to a wedding at the weekend
where this story was told by the best man.

the bride and groom met at university, dated, split up but kept in touch as good mates. about 8 years later, a drunken reunion party when she was briefly back at home led to lots of illicit sex before she resumed her travelling around the world.

the groom was totally smitten, and lived for her emails. but then, out of the blue, they stopped. she was in india by this point, and he could not get hold of her by phone or email. he was worried, but her parents assured him that they had heard from her and she was fine.

so he was absolutely devastated, thinking she was shagging someone else, and could not concentrate on his work at all. then the receptionist rang him, and said there was a parcel for him at the front desk. he sloped miserably downstairs....

.... and there she was, waiting for him in reception.

even a bitter old cynic like me was a bit teary eyed at that. (although that may have been the amount of champagne i had consumed by this point.)

slightly irrelevant as it has precisely nothing to do with me, but if i ever get the chance to do this, i will be stealing it!

( rachelswipe with a fork, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 15:51, 6 replies)

Teachers
This could almost qualify as a "Teacher" type post, but, bear with me.

I've had, over the years, some good and bad teachers. This post is for the best ones:

Mr Thompson, my old German teacher. He stood up to a ton of abuse and ridicule from my classmates and he gave as good as he got - he pigeon-holed a stack of grief in extra homework, etc for me and my friend Lorna. I saw it as us being singled out (we were troublemakers to be fair), but I did it anyway.

Mr Kaufmann, my old English teacher. The same, but far harsher on me and Lorna.

Maureen Beattie, my old college teacher. She was nurturing and encouraging - she also proofread a lot of my University work and as a result of some of her teachings, I no longer use the words "stuff" or "things" in written work.

Phil Roddis, my University lecturer. Who made sure I understood what he taught, guided me on things that weren't his subject, put a roof over my head when I was mugged at University and I had to leave my Uni house in a big hurry (thereby meaning I could continue my course - took a lot to swallow that pride).

That names but 4 - My point?

These 4 teachers, lecturers, tutors - whatever you like to term them as - gave me something very important - the ability to learn and be taught.

What they've done for me? They helped me understand the importance of education (didn't always see it at the time though) and went out of their way to ensure that I learnt and applied myself to the best of my ability. They made sure I didn't slip into being a "waster" and that my talents and abilities were not wasted.

Nowadays I'm an IT consultant - something, I'm sure, I would not have become had it not been for these teachers.
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 15:41, 2 replies)

My friend Sam
Gave me her last rolo.
( wanderlust, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 15:37, 1 reply)

Nice or foolhardy.
My current boyfriend flew to Miami to rehearse for a show he was never in,spent 3 weeks sat in a theatre watching me jump about,then spent 4 weeks on a ship (puking)with nothing to do except Sudokos.That´s pretty nice.And he only complained once.
I made it up to him by bunking off the contract early and setting up home with him.
(shirleytemplesarse, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 15:37, Reply)

Tried and failed
There was a once a bit on here (possibly in OT) about books. A fellow B3TAN mentioned that he was looking to read George Orwells 1984. Being the kind decent chap that I am I offered to send him my spare copy.

he sent me a lovely reply to my offer, made me smile it did.

I didn't have a spare copy after all. It was a spare copy of Animal Farm - a genuine mistake.

Still, he appreciated the offer and was happy knowning that I'd made him smile.

I stil have the spare Animal Farm if anyone wants it.
( SpikeyPickle wishes he was mabazaritchie, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 15:31, 7 replies)

He knows who he is....
I know he's registered on here but I'm not sure he reads....

You are the only person who 'gets' me. You can hear my brain ticking like a clock and you know when I'm lying.

You've left an ache in my chest and I in yours and though I love the bones of you, I know you are meant for someone else.

At the moment things are a bit mixed up and we're both feeling a little twinge of jealousy but you are rooted in my past - you remind me of who I really am even when I am trying to defy the universe!

It's not an act of kindness - just the reassurance that we understand eachother implicitly.

'Scuse the fluff.
(GirlOfTheWorld, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 15:23, 3 replies)

This really is a soul-searching question.
I can't think of anything as memorable as some of these stories, I've never had to go through any real upset in life or any suicidal tendancies.

My parents definitely have always been there for me though.

Back from when I was 2 and almost scalped myself on the edge of a concrete step, although I can't remember much from that moment I always remember feeling safe with my Mam always being there for me, even when they asked if she would leave while they stitched my forehead back on because it might be too distressing, she stayed and kept me calm. That and the ambulance drive who gave me 50p for sweets when I was better.

There was the time I fell over at school about 9 years old and hit my head yet again (realised now I think I'm abit clumsy) and wouldn't stop throwing up when I got home. Straight through to hospital where the staff were brilliant, I had a fear of hospitals and they made me feel at ease, my parents both slept on the tiniest settee in the ward even when they had work the next day.

When I was being bullied at school by both other students and the head master (nasty piece of work, once locked my sister in his office because he didnt think she was responsible enough to take me home) my Dad walked through with a full length leg cast on after shattering his knee cap to sort it out. I wasn't there but apparently he made the head master cry without even raising his voice and although he didn't stop belittling me for once I felt he wasn't an untouchable monster and it kept me happy and protected. Then again the cast and crutches probably made my Dad look a little bit more intimidating.

Theres all the times they both sat up with me through the night while I had whooping cough and croop, which was a very common thing thanks to my asthma, all while my Dad worked near on 11 hour shifts a day and my mam worked full time and still managed to go to uni during the evenings.

A few weeks after I had passed my test and managed to total my Dad's car, I just remember sitting on the pavement in Tynemouth, choked up and being arrested as a technicality. When the officer saw my Dad arrived he let me go over to see him, I just remember hugging him and being told to stop being so daft cause I didn't want to embaress myself infront of the police. The thought I was going to die, then being arrested and thinking I was going to be killed by my parents when he acted so normal with me I couldn't believe it, "It's just a load of metal, you're not hurt, everythin is okay." sticks in my mind.

After leaving 6th form I didn't want to go to Uni until I'd had a year out; I couldn't find a job and began getting quite down and felt abit worthless. My girlfriend stopped me from hitting bottom and has stood by me when I've had nothing, when I chose a career which I had never even thought about before she encouraged and pushed me more than anyone else and I hope I've done the same for her. Shes now training to be a primary school teacher and I couldn't be more proud of her. I'm now an accountant and she still brings up the look on my face when I passed my interview, sitting on the bus to Newcastle fed up with everything when my Mam plays the answerphone message down the mobile saying I had the job, I could have cried out of relief just then.

I know I'll think of something more sincere or which made such a big impression later, but I won't post them because these few things show how I feel about my family and my partner and although I'll always be there for them I don't think I can ever repay them for what they've done.
(Vikingheadache, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 15:13, 2 replies)

QOTW-ers do the nicest things!
The nicest thing anyone has ever done for me is to vote this story to the front page, in celebration of today, my 24th birthday.

I feel so crass :)
(bacontrout got ska, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 15:10, Reply)

Manchester University
sent me a letter which, to all intents and purposes, read "Here have a thousand quid".

As a lazy alcoholic student who will more than likely piss the money away on beer and DVDs, I can't complain.
(CptFantastic stopped doing work on, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 14:28, 3 replies)

My dad
My dad got me to buy a flat thinking he would put the deposit down and I would pay to do it up (though we'd work on it together as we have on several to make him some money after a horrible divorce from my evil mother) and pay the mortgage and then we'd sell it, split the profits and I could finally buy a place of mine own.
We worked like dogs and it was really great to learn so much from him and turn a really grubby pokey little flat into a lovely modern place together.
But we bought it last December so selling it for a profit is somewhat unlikely.
Anyway it came to the point where it was almost done and I thought I'd better get a valuation and see how much (well how little we'd make as the crunch had started with fury) and he asked why.
Then told me it had always been his plan for me to have this place, that he hadn't known what he would have done without my emotional support and unconditional love throughout the divorce and my one weekend a month hard graft for the last 5 years trying to build him a little bit of retirement money had meant that he was doing alright.
Then he told me he had done alot better than he thought with the properties - money making wise - I had helped him with and told me the deposit was mine, and that the flat was mine.
I couldn't believe it, I never thought that I would get anything back for helping him but he gave me something I hadn't had for nearly 10 years a proper home to call my own.

He is the cats pyjamas and I can't believe that anyone has done something so kind for me.

I love my dad very much and was happy to help him get on his feet again and I would have been too proud to have taken this deposit from him so he hoodwinked me into it and I am very grateful to him for getting me on my feet too.

Course I can't sell the bugger til 2020 or something now if I don't want to go into negative equity, but I'm not ever sure I will want to sell the flat we made together.

Apols for length, got a bit misty again writing this down.
(Bezmina, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 13:42, 2 replies)

My Dad
Who, since being diagnosed with cancer last year, has done all in his power to make it easy on all of us by being eternally positive and a comedy genuis when it comes to all things cancer-related. For cracking jokes the day after major surgery to put a smile on my step-mums face. For refusing to let the lack of many important internal body parts stop him from feeding his (adult) children vast amounts of lovely wine and enjoying a glass or two himself. For still being here. Thats the best bit. Thanks Dad. You are a star.
(Happycow - 2% pure beef, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 13:35, Reply)

Failed
When at college I failed my first year science class. As a result I had to re-take the class in the second year, not a problem just go to class and take end of year exam.

Except I forgot to go to any of the classes (possibly couldn't be arsed).

At the end of my course (after not turning up to an end of year exam for the failed class) I got my results in the post and I had passed, everything.

Not sure who to thank, maybe it was an admin problem that let me slip through the net, maybe our lecturer took pity on me.

If I had failed this course things would have turned out quite a bit different for me, so thanks someone for helping :)
(Opanoid Look sweats dripping off them, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 13:29, 1 reply)

On Saturday
Some middle aged German bird guaranteed my savings if I put them in one of her banks.
(Set your faces to Stunned Bigly, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 12:48, Reply)

Nothing is nicer than freedom!
I once lived in an isolated vilage in the middle of nowhere, along the Mexican border to be precise. Things were pretty bad for all of the residents as it was run by a local millionaire who made his money through the weapons trade. Basically he owned half the village and treated any residents like shit thanks to his own special police force that he brought in (A bunch of inbred knuckledraggers in army style fatigues that would happily beat their own Grandma if she looked funnily at his pint).

One day I was being accused by one of the aforementioned knuckledraggers about a missing loaf of bread and instead of getting my usual pasting some passing bloke turns up and throws the guard off of me. I thanked the stranger for his act of kindness and he must have seen the village was in desperate need of help. He took me to meet some of his mates who promised to sort out the whole situation for the town.

I was happy to accept the offer and am glad to report that they did just that, after building a tank from a clapped out Ford with fireworks for projectiles (why the goons decided to lock the gang in a shed with welding gear and explosives readily available is a mystery to me).

I have heard that this team have helped a number of towns throughout the 80's and I am suprised that they havent been mentioned so far on this QOTW.

Note: The only downside of them coming to my village was that my older sister (allegedly the best looking girl in the villlage) picked up an STD from the good looking one who did sod all fighting.
(mon bison powered by magnets, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 12:35, 3 replies)

The Event
I had a dark period a couple of years ago (but no lumps) and the story of how I climbed out is a long one and for another day.

I'm proud to say that the people who saved me love me, and I love them unconditionally. I left my wife for these people remember, but she was soooo negative and kept involving the police and stuff. Well, I'm happy to say I've quit my job, I've almost completed the paperwork, and soon my house will given over, and lots of other saved people will come to live with me soon! I cant wait. My belongings are in storage, in the big hangar, ready for loading. The best part of all of this is, is that after The Event, we're going to live in SPACE!! Obviously you know that the earth will be gone soon, well I got on board just in time. There are loads of seats left if you want to join us!

It seems a long time since I had The Doubt. I cant remember why I had that any more! It is funny how you change. Only 2 years ago, all sad and frowny, and now happy and delirious!
( I have run out of coke is a little sweaty, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 12:29, 2 replies)

lost and found
A while ago I was in Liverpool and I dropped over £3000 in cash, rolled up in a rubber band.

Incredibly I got a call from someone a couple of hours later, to tell me the rubber band had turned up.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 12:15, 3 replies)