Bloody animals...
I had just split up with my boyfriend of 4 years. Even though it was the right thing to do, it was quite traumatic. Having had 'the conversation' on a Sunday morning, I decided to clear off out of the flat to give us both a bit of space, and went to meet my mum and dad at their very civilised Sunday lunchtime drinking hole. Thinking I would get tender loving care.

Oh no.

The 'rents were fine, but the family dog (a large labrador)got a bit over excited to see me, jumped up at my chest, got both paws stuck in the neckline of my stretchy top and pulled, wrenching it down and exposing my bare tits to the pub at large. There was no need for that in my emotionally vulnerable state.

There was also no need for my mum and dad to burst out laughing, thereby drawing attention to the fact that I was desperately trying to untangle the dog from my clothes and put myself away (whilst trying not to cry).

There was certainly no need for the pensioner in the corner to raise his glass to me and doff his cap...
(clapper, Thu 16 Jun 2005, 14:41, Reply)

Not proud to admit that I still find this funny
Back in the 80s, there was a deaf-mute kid on our estate who to our collective shame was widely known as Dopey David and generally given quite a lot of stick.

One day down the park a bunch of us were attempting to convey, via the medium of improvised sign language, the fact that the girl he fancied was a fucking slag. Gradually the message got through and he became enraged. This pleased us.

Surprisingly, he drew from his coat a pair of those kung fu stick things (nunchucks?) and started flailing them around wildly and emitting some very strange whining noises. With perfect comedy timing the chain between them snapped and one stick went flying.

Thus further angered, and amid a sea of mocking hoots and jeers, he gathered his pitiful weapon and rode off across the park on his cheap crappy BMX. He turned to face us, gave us a high-pitched yell, and at that precise moment a weld or something on his bike frame seemed to snap and it collapsed in a heap beneath him.

Seldom have I laughed so hard in my life as I did at that moment. How, I thought, could anything possibly top this?

Well it did. As poor old Dopey David sat there in the wreckage of his fucked bike, crying and screaming and punching the ground, a big fat alsatian dog walked up, sniffed at the bike, cocked its leg and pissed all over him.
(Ali Bongo 9000 Ali Bongo 9000, Mon 20 Jun 2005, 11:27, Reply)

My dad and his mates, back in their hazy college days
were walking along a country trail back to their geology field-trip HQ, after a lengthy session of 'refreshments' at a picturesque local pub. Halfway back, they saw a hiker in a nearby field, gripping onto a tall metal structure and shaking like a shitting dog. After a moment's confusion, the utter horror slowly dawned on them - the unlucky bloke had got too close to a pylon, and was currently in the extremely painful process of being flash-fried from the inside out.

Quick as pissed lightening, my dad's mate Steve yelled 'SHIT! I know what to do here - you lot stay back!', wrenched a big fuck-off plank from a nearby fence, and, brandishing it over his head, charged like greased buggery into the field. When he got near the hiker, he brought it down as hard as he could with a massive fucking CRACK! on the guy's outstretched, pylon-clutching arm.

The net result was a blood-curdling scream, a shattered humerous, and Steve having to explain to the local constabulary why he'd smashed up the arm of a man who was already having a bad enough day as it was - he was a radio mast maintenance worker who'd stepped in a massive cow pat whilst crossing the field, and had, when he was brutally and needlessly attacked, been innocently leaning on the tethering cable of the mast he'd been sent to fix, trying vigorously to shake and scrape the worst of it off his welly.

In the end, poor boozy Steve managed to make the smirking copper believe his idiotic story, but was, hilariously, slapped with a hefty fine for drunkenly vandalising a fence.
( grey kid is breakdancing to save a community centre, Thu 16 Jun 2005, 11:23, Reply)

Death or embarresment. Which would you choose?

I was 14 and was rushed to hospital with a burst appendix and a potentially life threatening case of acute peritonitis (if you want to know why it was so acute, set the question "How dumb are you?" in the near future and I'll oblige with the stupid story).

Anyway my mum was sat by the bed, a nurse put the curtains round, then came in with a (small) bowl of shaving foam and a razor.

"What's that for?" I asked in my weakened state.
"I need to shave your pubic hair before the operation" she replied.

She lifted up the hospital gown looked for a minute, considered, then said "Actually, I think you'll be ok as you are."

Great, I'm actually at death's door and I've just been informed I'm underdeveloped. While my mum is in the room, sat right next to me.

Nurses, next time some kid is in your ward and might not make it, don't give him a puberty complex as his last living memory.
(Wascally Weasel now with 100% fewer jokes., Thu 16 Jun 2005, 17:45, Reply)

ouch
a/s/l - 19, female, in bed for second or third time with then loveoflife in our dodgy student house in the arse end of manor house that was only held up by the fungus and the mouse droppings.

loveoflife didn't actually know that this was his status. which is still no excuse for yawning, scratching his skinny white arse and saying something exceptionally offensive. hence huge row followed by devastated self jumping out of bed and having the humiliation of being unable to storm out because pants had totally disappeared. and they HAD to be found. the alternative was too hideous to contemplate.

finally getting self and pants up to attic bedroom. beyond gutted. lying in dark staring at ceiling, throat clotted with tears, eyes burning, swearing away, wondering how on earth to carry on living in same house. decide that this is it: nothing can ever be any worse than that.

wrong. then ceiling makes funny belching noise and paper tears right above the bed. 100 years of rusty rainwater pours through the crack, drowning not only me but my bed, bedding and immediately surrounding carpet in stinking brown rainwater and rodent and pigeon shit.

now there was REALLY no need for that.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Mon 20 Jun 2005, 14:07, Reply)

Johnny One-Ball
playing pool with a couple of mates, a nice competitive edge comes into it, obviously...

Johnny is about to take the title, he steadies himself to sink the reasonably easy black...it was at this point that Mike, his highly inebriated opponent and close personal friend, decided to take this opportunity to try and put him off by "nudging his nadgers" with the butt of the cue...being drunk and slightly incapable of basic motor functions, he proceeded to absolutely smash Johnny in the bollocks from behind with his cue, it was reminiscent of a young babe ruth smashing a home run, only it was in a pub, and it was
pool and not baseball...

Poor Johnnny went down like a sack of spuds, and was in great pain. we laughed, he cried. real tears.

We had to call an ambulance cos he couldn't get up, and in the resulting examination, was saddened to hear that he would infact, be losing his left testicle...posthumously named "Brian"...due to "severe damage"...

He now has a "rubber Ball" and is known in our town as "Johnny One-Ball"

As if this wasn't bad enough, Mike also made him pay the £10 which hung on the game...

There was certainly no need for that...
(Big Andy, Mon 20 Jun 2005, 11:30, Reply)

broken limbs aplenty:
Having fallen arse over tit down some stairs and suffering a badly broken ankle, I have an operation to fit many screws into my newly deformed limb.

Everything is going swimmingly until the physiotherapist says I have to prove my mobility with the use of crutches before I will be allowed home.

"okay" says I and off I go - determined to prove my agility, until that is, I have to prove my competency ON THE STAIRS!

"shit" says I and try to weasle my way out of said task, but the physio guy isnt going to give up on me that easily and will not let me away with this part of my task,
"just give it a try" says he...

momentarally followed by my falling spectacularly down said stairs, and breaking both my wrists, my collar bone, my left elbow, and my other leg, and just for good measure 2 ribs! (oh and lest we forget 'two' black eyes)

Some time later I am lying in my hospital bed contemplating my future (ie: How does one wipe ones arse with just such injuries)?
When who should visit but mr physio,
(and here comes the 'no need for that' bit)

he brings with him a big bunch of flowers not realising the fact that I have acute hayfever and will now go on to bruise my remaining (healthy) ribs further by violently sneezing for the next hour or so...
( catweasle neither a cat nor a weasle, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 0:26, Reply)

I had a staff member telling me that her son was in hospital with pneumonia the other day,
And at the exact moment that tears started welling up in her eyes, my assistant ran past making pigeon noises. As a reflex I joined in.
( gronkpan @vomitinglarry.bsky.social, Thu 16 Jun 2005, 8:14, Reply)

White (haired) men can't jump
When I was a wee lad, *early teens at least* Me and the guys were playing football in my street. One of my mates, being the empty headed jackhammer that he was, thundered the ball up the road...unfortunately hitting an old man, who was travelling along in one of those old people mobiles, in the side of the head, knocking him out of his chair. Jackhammer went over to get the ball and help the guy up.

The "Now, there was no need for that..." moment?
After helping the old man back into his chair, Jackhammer went to boot the ball back up to us...only to "fluff" the shot and hit the old man square in the face.

Shit.
(doris_day, Thu 16 Jun 2005, 17:43, Reply)

I was
at home last year one evening, on the receiving end of some rather good oral pleasure off my gf, when my border collie dog casually ambles over, licks my nob and walks off.
- There was definitley no need for that as it ruined the moment.

There was also no need for my mates upon hearing the story, to call me 'Dogs Nob' for several months afterwards .

:|
(nappy rash, Wed 22 Jun 2005, 14:02, Reply)

I went sailing...
for the first time last year. I'm still getting to grips with the lovely toilet mechanism (you let sea water in then pump the offending material way with a manual pump) and the handle snaps off in my hands. Maybe i was pumpin too vigirously. Bear in mind there's still sea water pumping into this lav and before you know it it's overflowing and i can't get it to stop. Cue me screaming for help and that the yacht is sinking and water flowing merrily out of the toilet door. The skipper comes down as as if it can't get any worse stares in horror at my first rate poo as it floats past his foot and into the bunkroom. Bugger.
(I've done it so many times it's boring now..., Fri 17 Jun 2005, 12:07, Reply)

Stapler
Not very bright I know but, in the process of filling the stapler with staples, I managed to staple my thumbs together whilst closing the top back down.
For those of you who have never done this, I should explain that the worst part is not being able to pull the staple out, due to not having any free hands with which to do it.
(druidus, Thu 16 Jun 2005, 22:10, Reply)

We see dead people...
A fellow paramedic was called to a non-urgent case at a GPs rooms to transfer a “sick person” to hospital. When he got there he found the unattended patient was in cardiac arrest. Colleague naturally starts the whole adrenaline, CPR, defibrillation routine and is admonished by the doctor (referred to by us as “Dr Death”) who says that the patient has terminal cancer and should not be resuscitated. Colleague refuses to stop until a current DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) order is produced. Dr Death hasn’t got one and proceeds to argue with my colleague (now, there was no need for that.)
A second doctor walks in, looks at the patient and says “Oh this is Mr XYZ – the guy whose cancer went into remission last year”.
Dr Death is embarrassed and starts arguing with the second doctor (now, there was no need for that.)

Patient eventually responds to treatment and is transported to hospital (urgently, but no sirens) fully regaining consciousness on the way there. He is unaware that he arrested and thinks that he just “passed out” at Dr Deaths’ – my colleague decides not to tempt fate and doesn’t tell him what actually happened (anxiety after a cardiac arrest is not a good thing…)
Patient asks what the time is and when told is confused by the time lapse and says “What took the ambulance so long to get to the doctors?” (now, there was no need for that.) Colleague replies rather tongue in cheek that any time delay was due to a cardiac arrest he had just been to – still not telling the patient it was actually him that arrested.
On arrival at hospital the patient is told what actually happened and says “Well, I’m just lucky that I was at the doctors then – he saved my life” (now, there was no need for that.)
Dr Death then phones the hospital to see how the patient is doing and the patient speaks to him on the phone and is heard thanking him for saving his life – it’s clear that Dr Death says nothing to the patient that’s lets him know it was the paramedic who saved him (now, there was no need for that.)


Here is the punchline: About a week later, my colleague and his partner are invited to see the Assistant Commissioner regarding this case – they are expecting a big pat on the back for doing such a good job. No such luck – a complaint was received from the patient regarding the “rough ride in the ambulance on the way to hospital” and he wants an apology from the crew – now, there was no need for that so he didn’t get one.


This is the kind of shit that causes most stress in this job – not the traumatic stuff you would expect.
(emadex thinks the world will end on, Thu 16 Jun 2005, 14:20, Reply)

There is no need for.....
The current crop of students to bitch and moan about the fact they have exams to do. We have all done them and most of us did them when you didnt get an A* for spelling your name. I mean what the fuck is the added * for, loada bollocks thats what.

"I had 3 hours sleep then had to start some coursework to be in by lunchtime" Then you are a dick, may I suggest planning your school work around your social life.

Shut the fuck up and revise, they are over in a fornight and then you get 3 months off - Wait until you have to work for a living, now that is something there really is no need for.

Ode to be a student again.
(Taco Tickler, Wed 22 Jun 2005, 12:21, Reply)

rather uncomfortable
Right, haveing never played rugby properly before i was picked to play for my school team (this was years ago) the other team were huge, and im not exactly a man mountain so i was rather intimidated.

i was playing on the right wing, and was quite releaved when the ball went out to our left winger at the start of the match!

he got tackled by quite a big fella and dient get up again, he had dislocated his hip! ouch... thats bad enough however when they popped it back in it hurt him so bad he let out a scream that tore a vocal cord!

bit of an over reaction maybe?

dont think so, one of his testicles had slipped into the socket which was promptly shattered when his hip was re-located! gutted!
(viva_le_boosh, Sun 19 Jun 2005, 18:38, Reply)

Hospitals.. No Need
Many moons ago, a lad i knew, we'll call him Gary, for that was his name did drink copious amount and vanish from a night out. He re-appeared the next day limping with 2 bent ankles. Turned out he'd wandered into a city centre multi story car park then tried to 'take a short cut' off the 2nd floor.

2 broken ankles, 1 broken leg, 2 broken arms and a broken back. Him in almost comedy full body cast, alá Carry On style.. Needless to say, he didn't want to park his lunch. EVER - Cause he wasn't allowed to get up, they'd just roll him over and slide a board underneath him for him to 'defecate' onto. 7 days i think he lasted before he though he was going explode turds from his ears. Anyways, the nurse had to be present to 'check for normal stools' - and she brought a handful of trainees. Who took it in turns to help wipe his arse once he'd laid the largest chod in history onto the 'turd tray'

No Need.
(TheManofScience, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 9:57, Reply)

Hot lamp
Had a cyst in my inner right thigh, sufficiently high enough to make me wonder if it was going to give my balls some of its cyst germs every time I moved.

Went in for minor op to have it whipped out under a local anaesthetic. Cue humorous Dr person with the "I'll try not to slip" line of gaggery. Already very, very nervous of his shaky grip on the scalpel after he'd made his initial incision, the attending nurse then proceeded to walk away from the angle-poise lamp she was holding upright, allowing it to sag downwards and scorch my balls.
(dandelionburdock, Thu 16 Jun 2005, 23:42, Reply)

2005 has been rubbish.
It started with be being done for drink driving after a major car accident. Thankfully I didn't hurt anyone apart from myself - but it was spectacularly large crash, and spectacularly stupid. I screwed up, I'm sorry, and I'm repaying my debt to society - but my karma seems to have other ideas, and has been biting me on the arse. Hard.

Firstly I lost my license and had to go to court, etc. The solicitor even thought I might well go to jail. I was understandably shitting it all the while, and just to make matters worse my girlfriend found out she had skin cancer.

I managed to avoid going to jail, and thought that I'd be able to be a good supportive boyfriend, and that everything would be OK if I just kept quiet about the court case. Unfortunately, a week later I find my name splashed across the front page of the local rag. As a result I had no option but to confess all to my place of work, which I thought would definitely result in me getting the sack... However through much grovelling and remorse I managed not to (praise Jebus).

Now as far as I'm concerned I deserved everything up to this point - apart from the girlfriend with cancer thing. There was really no need for the rest...

Shortly after this crisis I find out my girlfriend is a loon. Whilst I have shitting a brick about the court case, and have been pushed almost the point of breakdown worrying about her medical condition she has been lying to me. About the cancer. That's right, the whole cancer thing was a lie to stop me from leaving her - even though I had no intention of doing any such thing. I figure I should stick by her - and manage to for a while, but then I discover some of her other fabrications which I have been taken in by, like her (ficticious)younger brother who died in a tragic car accident. She then decides that she's going to start accusing me of cheating on her too (I wasn't) which resulted in a lovely acrimonious, bitter break-up.

Given the crap year I was having thus far (it was about mid-March by then) I go for a night out with some mates. My karma still hasn't had it's fill, and manages to orchestrate events so that that during the course of the night I manage to fall over and both dislocate my knee-cap and fracture my radial head (elbow) at the same time. That wasn't fun.

Then, just to top it all I got sacked from the job that I had previously managed to keep for a really minor breach of the email policy that I had unwittingly committed 9 months previously. It was my birthday two days later.

Woo.
(Arnolfini wasn't feeling very funny on, Thu 16 Jun 2005, 19:36, Reply)

Nearly at the end of my tether.
I have a menial job as a carpenter. Same thing every day, for a meagre wage. Lack of respect all round.

My girlfriend gets pregnant. 'Fair enough' says I
(despite the child not being mine). Getting prepared for the nipper at home, and the government orders me back to my old house (before i moved out) to sign a form. I didnt have a car. Buses? Fucking jobsworths didnt turn up. Cue me and my pregnant girl having to WALK all the way into town (a long, long way).

We finally get there. Its dark. Its pissing it down. Me = Angry. We wander round trying to find some kind of accomodation for the night (parents not around, chavs in the streets etc.)

First hotel we call in at (sounds like Gravel Bin) wouldnt book us a room. 'Its full, we rented the last 5 minutes ago'.

Marvellous. Try the B&B (sounds like Granada Harvest). That ones also fully fucking booked. Busy week, eh? bastard.

Were getting desperate, by now. The girl is complaining bout her tum. We try the last (and most expensive hotel going). No. Fucking. Room.

We end up in the nearest, warmest place going, the posh hotel garage. Were piss wet through, and the baby is coming.

We spend the rest of the night sitting in the garage. But hey, the baby was OK.

Length and Girth? Its good enough for jesus, its good enough for you.
(Attention Whore, Thu 16 Jun 2005, 18:13, Reply)

cat shit
cat sh!ts on the bed. take off the sheet, duvet cover, mattress protector etc, off i go to the washing machine. come back, cat has sh!t on the bare mattress.

little b4stard.
( wingphil, Mon 20 Jun 2005, 0:56, Reply)

Bees
When I was a nipper, a wasp flew into my shorts. Not coming out, a 'friend' of mine thought he'd kill it by kicking me in the nuts. That didn't work, but through the throbbing, I felt the half dead wasp (It's tail was half attached, with some funky innards hanging out) sting me on the gentleman....
Never going to Longleat again..
( Jimbuktu See? Right here, Thu 16 Jun 2005, 11:03, Reply)

Physical and mental damage.
Playing a ridiculous game while in an innercity, all concrete school playground, I got 'tackled' by my best mate, who's quite a bit bigger than me. He jumped on top of me and I crumpled under his weight, smacking my head on the concrete and passing out. The first thing I saw when I woke up, focusing through the absolute agony, was an up-skirt view of the most unappealing dinner lady's growler, with a tampon string protruding... She was stood over me chatting with another dinner lady about moving me inside. I felt used.
(josephus42, Mon 20 Jun 2005, 10:58, Reply)

Dont do Drugs, Drugs are baaaad MMMOKAY
in 1992 we did the annual pilgramige to Glastonbury festival, we had a couple of pub aquaintances who were festival virgins, tag along...

we arrived and set up camp without incident.. then got down to the job at hand , getting wasted and listening to some cool sounds..

One of the "virgins" we shall call him Dan for that is his name started quizzing me about dope... whats it like, how does it make you feel, is it addictive... blah, blah, blah i offer him a go on the reeefer that i am smoking which he turns down on the basis that he just cant smoke... I then suggested to him that he might try eating some, i told him in the top pocket of my rucksack there was same flapjacks that had hash in them, he was welcome to try it... the guy ummed and arrhed for a while, well "The Senseless Things" were due to play so i made my excuses and left.

After a jump around and a walk i returned around 3 hours later to base to find Dan... well, totally twatted, i asked him how he felt and he said he was having a bad time, it transpires he had eaten 1 square of my flapjack.. as it has kicked in he had gotten the munchies and eaten half of my stash (about 8 squares)

THERE WAS NO NEED FOR THAT!!!

As time progressed the apprentice Psyconaught got more and more fucked up, ultimately entering the worst state of paranoia i have ever seen. The attempts of me and the rest of the gang to reassure him that he would be fine were falling on deaf ears, he had convinced himself that he had done drugs and fucked his brain, and that he would never be normal againg. I finally tell him that there is a drugs councilling tent where he can go and talk to someone "professional" (though in my hayday there was nobody more professional of dedicated to the fine art of getting wasted than me IMHO :p) if he doesnt believe me this strikes a chord with him and we leave the tent in search of the drug awareness tent..

Upon arrival the scene is like an out take from Naked lunch meets apocolpse now, i have never seen so many fucked up people having such a bad time.. we take our place in the que , in front of us there is a guy who has done far too much Ket... rushing his face off, every so often he would get a massive rush and make this "YYYYahhhayayayayayyaaaahhh" kinda noise. There are people on shrooms, smack etc etc. a Group of 3 old hippies roll up behing us, they start talking to us, it becomes apparent they have dropped alot of acid AND done some fly agaric on top... Space cadets doesnt even come close, any how they are all talking about how wasted they are and all that, it is at that point when one of the Hippies asks Dan "what have you done man?" to which Dan answers "FLAPJACKS"


THERE WAS NO NEED FOR THAT

Talk about way to kill your credability and cool....nob.

Length, i have none, but the girth would win a blue ribbon at a country fair.
(Ickypimp, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 15:12, Reply)

Coincidence?
My uncle recently committed suicide (by hanging) and since then every attempt I've made to cheer my terribly bereaved mother up has been thwarted by sheer coincidental references to hanging. Firstly I suggested we have a game of hangman. Then I took her out to see a film, it was nice until we popped into this metal pub (she was a goth in the 80s so I thought she might like it) on Wardour Street where they have a cruicified sculpture with a noose around its neck. Nice! Our drinks were accompanied by the fabulous 'Pretty Noose' by Soundgarden, why I pointed this out to my mum I'm still unsure. Lastly, I bought her a copy of Fortean Times as she enjoys that sorta thing. The front cover displays a hanged woman. I should've just given up at hangman really.
( Fictional Emma, Thu 16 Jun 2005, 16:17, Reply)

Anger management
Took friends from work for a spin in my pride and joy of the time, a brand new Clio 172. Pulled back into the car park at work, throught "I'll show 'em the brakes" and proceeded to park at speed. And miss the brake pedal. Wrapped £15k of 2 day old car round a 3 foot concrete post.

Angry? Moi?

I got out. I inspected damage. I Shouted "Bollocks" as loud as I could. I kicked the fence above the post in anger.

My foot went right through the fence, and the momentum of the kick picked me up and planted me firmly down on my arse. Thanks very much, shoddy fence makers.
(Tinium, Thu 16 Jun 2005, 9:51, Reply)

Kidney stones
It was after my fiancee` died of cancer. I had been working a year-long residency that ended in time for me to take care of her the last two months, although tight on money.

Despite the fact she left me enough to survive on, after she died, my family decided to move me (at age 36) from Chicago to NW Indiana to live with them (I was too dazed to protest). After moving half my things down there to go into storage, they promise to come help me move the rest and, of course, never do.

I move New Years Eve night on my own to make it out on time with only my buddy from high school, who is sick, talking to me on my cel phone to keep me calm and sane. I drive thru Chicago at 2 a.m. avoiding drunks in a borrowed van that sways oddly because it is overloaded.

I end up trapped at the folks with no way to print out resumes or find a decent job, and my mother keeps trying to get me to apply for crap minimum-wage jobs so I can stay near them.

One day after using the bathroom, I feel pain in my side. I figure it's my bowels acting up again, but it gets worse. I call my doctor, whose nurse says to go to the hospital (like I haven't seen to much of them already). I call the friend to drive me there and take a Vicodin from my late fiancee's things (I *knew* they'd come in handy), but it's still bad, and when we're the only vehicle on a long stretch, some idiot backs out of their drive in front of us (my friend said he knew it was bad when I leaned over and laid on the horn).

The registering nurse is patronizing, telling me not to hyperventaliate or I'll pass out (sounds good to me).
Finally they wheel me into a room and give me a painkiller (which helps only a bit because they're not sure if I have a kidney stone yet). I'm sitting there in my sleepwear, clutching the insurance card, rosary and picture of my fiancee -- the three things I thought to grab. The doctors and nurses have filed out, leaving me with my friend, when I notice the Muzak. I ask my friend if he recognizes the song they've chosen to pipe into the emergency room.

It was "Live & Let Die" by Wings.

And as if that was not uncalled for (we harassed the nurse about it), when they wheel me in for the cat scan, one tech looks VERY familiar. I thought I it might be the drugs, so I show the other tech the photo of my fiancee, and she confirms it. The first tech is (excuse the pun) a dead ringer for my late fiancee.

There was no need for that.
(ChiTown Guy Dating when 35+: sane, single, attractive - pick 2, Thu 23 Jun 2005, 5:43, Reply)

Near death penis
When I was about 12 I was happily jerkin my gerkin in the shower when the brilliant idea to pull my foreskin back comes to me. Now I had neer of pulled it back untill then so I had no idea it was too tight to be pulled back. So after much heaving and water I got it back. I then realised that perhaps my bell shouldn't be slowly turning purple and then blue.
A pained and very wet young me then staggers out of the shower staring at his magical swelling bellend. Upon discovering it wont go back for love nor money I staggered into the living room and proceed to tel my mother I have a 'problem'. upon telling her and bareing all She sent my father to try and take care of it.
Now a 6'3 insanely strong bear of a man tugging on your small swollen adolescent penis is not much fun and proceeded to make me scream at a level that makes most trained opera singers look like a member of busted.
After much embarresment a trip to hospital is made. After a 1 hour wait in which doctors spend their time laughing at a drunk that was pukeing in the next bay i got seen. At which point some crazy asian magic man starts to massage my now very dark and soon to explode member and make it shrink. Alas my now shrunk pork sword still would not let the foreskin back down. Eventually the choice was made for an emergency circumcission on the grounds that if they did not act then my penis would die and drop off due to having no blood suplly. Que a day of being sick due you no fasting and several weeks of cowboy walking.

What was'nt needed was after the magic massaging doctor for 3 others to try and a attractive female nurse to be watching.
What really wasn't needed was to then be examined the next day by a doctor and several students.

No apoligies for width, girth or shape.....my girlfriend likes it.
(Wulung, Sun 19 Jun 2005, 17:03, Reply)

Ribs
I bruised my rib last year by falling on a mate's knee during a viscious struggle (he was trying to steal my shoe). It was a bit sore, but nothing spectacular until about a week later when a particulaly intrasient turd caused a bit of excess straining. Something popped and intese pain and quite a lot of breathlessness convinced me it was probably time to take a little trip to casualty. Not only did I have to explain exactly how i had injured myself to a pretty young A&E doctor but it turned out i had both broken my rib and punctured a lung. By shitting too hard. I'm a minor medical marvel.

EDIT: that's not really on topic is it. Sod it, it's a good story.
(donksta, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 16:27, Reply)

Boating Twunt
Me and the missus live in an alright part of our fair city. Problem is is that the neighbour is an unemployed dope smoking, rave music mentalist who thinks is it in the community spirit to get everyone to listen to freaking techno at 3 in the morning. This guy does fuck all and loves it, and it gets on my tits something cronic. And then there are his friends, all of them fucking mindless jobless commonsenseless pissflaps. As was proven when I came home after working away all week quite late and nearly ran into the back of his friends cars that were in our parking bay. I asked him to move it and he said that I should park somewhere else. I disagreed and then edged to the back of his car and pushed the piece of shit maxed out Nova forward by a yard or two. His face was indeed a picture.

Now I don't mind a bit of music, and as Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine prophecised, "The Rhythm is Gonna Getcha", and it invariably does, to the point of going over there and knocking his fucking door in and asking him politely to turn it down or he'll be eating his teeth. I have already made the call on this one.

Now what there is no fucking need for is the cunting boat in the back garden. A cunting boat?!?!?! I work my arse off in a very good job but can ill afford to get a new door for mybeloved mini, let alone a fucking BOAT. Did I mention that he has a fucking BOAT in his back garden? A boat that he has sanded down to within an inch of it's bouyancy. And then, Oh, and then he has to test the twatting engine out. For the love of a good whore, it's never seen a cup of water let alone a lake full of it. I have borrowed a friends air rifle and have now blasted holes in it's hull.

That'll learn the chav bastard, that'll learn him.

/end Captain Jobless rant

P.S. First Post, Big Hand Clap!!

Just becasue you're not feeling anything doesn't mean I lack length or girth. Have you ever thought it could be because of your baggy cnut?
(matflat, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 9:45, Reply)

Pissing off teachers...
A couple of years back when I was about 15, my rather bitchy, yet rather hot German teacher had gone out on the sixth form leaving do and got rather hammered. She ended up sleeping with one of the English teachers in the hotel that night...which of course, everybody instantly knew about. Cut to about 3 weeks later when my mate James brings the subject up in class... To which the teacher replied "I don't want to talk about it. I'm just annoyed that it's spread so quickly"

There was no need for me to reply "Do you mean the rumour or your legs?"
(wonderbrawl was pronounced dead on, Thu 16 Jun 2005, 12:25, Reply)