Strict Parents
I always thought my parents were quite strict, but I can't think of anything they actually banned me from doing, whereas a good friend was under no circumstances allowed to watch ITV because of the adverts.
This week's Time Out mentions some poor sod who was banned from sitting in the aisle seats at cinemas because, according to their mother, "drug dealers patrol the aisles, injecting people in the arm."
What were you banned from doing as a kid by loopy parents?
( , Thu 8 Mar 2007, 12:37)
I always thought my parents were quite strict, but I can't think of anything they actually banned me from doing, whereas a good friend was under no circumstances allowed to watch ITV because of the adverts.
This week's Time Out mentions some poor sod who was banned from sitting in the aisle seats at cinemas because, according to their mother, "drug dealers patrol the aisles, injecting people in the arm."
What were you banned from doing as a kid by loopy parents?
( , Thu 8 Mar 2007, 12:37)
« Go Back
I was 16.
My parents were going out of town for a week, and my brother-in-law agreed to stay with me while they were away- that is, show up around dinner time, have dinner with me and make sure all was fine, then go home. No problem, really-
-but before they left, my father made a point of counting how many beers were in the fridge.
Okay, I may have my stupid moments, but how fucking dumb would I have to be to steal beer from my parents' fridge? I mean, it would be rather obvious if they came back and the beer was gone, wouldn't it? Especially as at that point Dad was drinking Miller. It would be like going to the effort of stealing water from their toilet.
So I vented my annoyance to Larry that first night, and we came up with the perfect reply to this.
When my parents got home, there were all four bottles of his Millers in the fridge- and in a ring around them were eight Miller Quickies (the little 7 oz bottles), like ducklings around the mother duck.
Dad never said anything about stealing his beer again. I guess that he got the message that I could go get my own, thanks much...
Length? Perfect for a Quickie...
( , Thu 8 Mar 2007, 16:35, Reply)
My parents were going out of town for a week, and my brother-in-law agreed to stay with me while they were away- that is, show up around dinner time, have dinner with me and make sure all was fine, then go home. No problem, really-
-but before they left, my father made a point of counting how many beers were in the fridge.
Okay, I may have my stupid moments, but how fucking dumb would I have to be to steal beer from my parents' fridge? I mean, it would be rather obvious if they came back and the beer was gone, wouldn't it? Especially as at that point Dad was drinking Miller. It would be like going to the effort of stealing water from their toilet.
So I vented my annoyance to Larry that first night, and we came up with the perfect reply to this.
When my parents got home, there were all four bottles of his Millers in the fridge- and in a ring around them were eight Miller Quickies (the little 7 oz bottles), like ducklings around the mother duck.
Dad never said anything about stealing his beer again. I guess that he got the message that I could go get my own, thanks much...
Length? Perfect for a Quickie...
( , Thu 8 Mar 2007, 16:35, Reply)
« Go Back