Diesel and acid don't mix
As a young neighbour, I was prone to the proclivities of the under 20's, drugs, booze, sex, and staying up till all hours of the week. At this time I was working as an ice cream slave churning out bucket loads of said product for the princely sum of 4 quid an hour. The fact that an 18yr old tripper that had a predilection for the nitrous oxide tank used to whip the cream (bulbs) was responsible for the entire shop's livelihood was lost on the alky fuckers that ran the soon to be doomed ship. So they thought that I was a good and willing serf for their plans to dominate yuppie ice cream land. But alas for them, I had lungfulls of N2O and a head full of various chemicals and spent my time in a haze at work and at home. This behaviour was not lost on my employers, especially when after a 3 day non sleeping acid filled bender i set off for work in my car. The "Red Beast" was a little low on fuel so i swang by the service station and proceeded to fill my tank with oily goodness. Unfortunately, I didn't realize that the strange metal cap over the nozzle indicated that the fuel inside was diesel, not very friendly to my petrol powered beast. So about halfway to work the car starts ghugging and producing a white smoke that obliterated sight in all 4 lanes behind me for the rest of the journey. I nursed the beast to work and pondered the strange situation when it dawned that i had spiked my own car. So as any drug addled soul would do i took the first logical thought that seeped into my head and tried to siphon the diesel out of my car. In n a drug addled state it probably wasn't the best of moves, I copped a lungful of stinky petrol/diesel, spilt it over my work uniform and staggered into work an hour late, red eyed , scattered and reeking of fuel which permeates the pristine environs of an ice cream shop like nothing else. My boss began a tirade at me and then the smell hit him and he asked what the fuck I was doing turning up to work in this state, I mumbled my predicament and his response was a chorus of denigration on my work ethic. So I said Fuck you, I quit and turned and caught the tram home to catch up on some much needed sleep. The next morning i was woken with a very subdued boss asking me to come back as i was the only person who knew how to make the very substance that the business depended on, so after a few minutes of ego boosting i agreed to come back to work albeit with a plan to do the worst job possible and empty the nitrous cylinder whilst on the payroll. I lasted a week. Then they sacked me. Ha
(neighbour of the beast 668 has watched you in secret on, Sat 24 May 2008, 12:30, 1 reply)

Wow
You sound like a 'tard.
( gareth_alien will be human again at, Tue 27 May 2008, 16:57, closed)