Escape was physically easy; socially impossible
Our family got together at my parents' house for Easter. In the afternoon we played a game of hide and seek with my brother's three young children. When it was my turn to hide, I hid in a cupboard in the bathroom - big enough to be an airing cupboard, but without a hot water tank in. The cupboard's full of shelves, so at first glance there doesn't appear to be space for an adult to fit. There's quite a gap under the bottom shelf though, and having moved a few things around I found I could just fit in.

Before long my eldest niece opened the cupboard to look for me there. She clearly didn't think it was a possible hiding place as she closed the door again almost straight away. I just managed not to laugh.

After about five minutes I could hear lots of people hunting round the house. Clearly the three girls had run out of ideas and had drafted in some adult help.

My brother-in-law Mark came into the bathroom, opened the cupboard door and closed it again, satisfied that I wasn't in there. Then he locked the bathroom door.

No, I thought, oh no, no, no, no, no! He was only checking the coast was clear before he...

Should I say something now, I wondered, before it's too late?

No - this is a great hiding place. I can manage to stay quiet for a couple of minutes.

I hope he's not going to sit down.

By time I could tell that he had sat down, of course it was far too late to reveal myself. There was nothing left to do but wait it out. Everything seemed suddenly very quiet: I'd have to remain completely still. And not laugh.

Mark had eaten something that didn't agree with him. He was there for quite some time.

I hope no one thinks to ring my mobile phone, I thought. Perhaps I can put it on silent? No - it's too cramped in here to move without rustling this polythene bag I'm leaning on. That would be enough to give myself away. But if someone does ring it...

The door handle rattled. 'Is that Mark in there?' asked one of the girls.

'Yes.'

'Is Uncle Tim in there with you?'

I had to bite my hand to keep from cracking up.

'No.'

'Promise?'

'Yes.'

My shoulders were shaking with silent laughter. Oh, I mustn't make a noise now! Somehow, somehow, I've got to last at least until he's pulled his trousers up!

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, I heard the toilet flush.

The door handle rattled again. 'It's me,' said Debbie (my sister, Mark's wife), 'are you OK?' Mark let her in.

'I'll just check Tim isn't in here,' she said and opened the cupboard door.

'Are you sure you're OK?' she said as she closed it again.

Mark began to describe his unfortunate digestive symptoms.

'Wait a moment!' said Debbie, opening the door again, 'That looked like a knee! It is! He is in here!'

Mark stood there wide-eyed and red-faced.

'Hello,' I said, clambering out.
( teedyay, Wed 5 Mar 2014, 22:44, 22 replies)

Just last week,
my very drunk mate thought it would be hilarious to slap a set of handcuffs on my other very drunk mate. After a bit of wrestling, the latter managed to grab the handcuffs from the other's hands, but instead of thinking "phew, that was a close shave", he started maniacally laughing and heading in my direction.

Less than a minute of struggling later, I'm hancuffed to a steaming drunk person who is absolutely thrilled with this decision. Right. Fun's over. Where's the key?

"Key?"

Never has a word invoked such fear in me. We hunted and hunted, with that horrible sinking feeling of inevitability slowly growing, when suddenly, we found the key! Hurray! It was snapped in two.

We knew there must be a way of releasing the handcuffs, but try as we might we were all absolutely hammered and couldn't work it out. To make matters worse, my mate had applied the cuffs a little too enthusiastically to his own arm, and his hand was now swollen and slightly grey looking. Mine was a little looser, but no amount of fairy liquid or butter were getting my mitt out of these cuffs. Being a calm and rational drunken scotsman, my mate began panicking about the situation which was entirely his fault, and began roaring at the top of his lungs, crying and smashing anything he could get his hands on. This in turn irritated me. We now have two incredibly angry drunken scotsmen manacled together in a kitchen, threatening to kill each other. I politely but forcefully suggested he might like to calm down a bit. His response was to grab my arm and tighten my half of the cuffs until it cut off my circulation.

Somewhere in the deep recesses of my other pal's mind (the one who had started all of this but was currently free and enjoying himself immensely) he could see things were going badly. Something would have to be done, and quickly. What, you ask? Ring round, try and find some bolt cutters somewhere? See if there's anyone else with a set of handcuff keys? No, fuck it, straight to defcon one, phone the fire brigade.

So, the fire brigade arrives, flashers going and everything, and several highly professional men discover they've been called out to release two drunbken arseholes from a trap of their own making. They thoroughly ripped the utter pish out of us, asking how we had got our clothes back on over the cuffs, had we remembered to switch off our dildos to save batteries, all thoroughly deserved. At the time, I was sporting a rather fetching "shiteshirt", a creation Alfie Moon himself would be proud of, which made the firemen laugh even harder. I tried to apologise as much as possible for wasting their valuable time, while my mate writhed on the floor whimpering every time they touched him.

Well, they cut us free. It has, in the long run, been a positive experience for me. The amount of money I've saved on heating alone, due to the burning shame and beaming red face I've had for almost two weeks now, has made it all worth it.
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Sat 1 Mar 2014, 17:28, 8 replies)

Pot hole in one
Many orbits ago, when I were knee-high to a pit pony, I was in the RAF cadets.
It was a jolly awesome time; we got to shoot real guns, fly real planes and eat real out-of-date rations. Yes, we had to wear dipshit uniforms and march around a bit, followed by a bit more marching around, but night exercises were a jape and being in the CCF meant I could do shooting instead of retarded rugby for Games (slightly posho school; not really my scene...)
One time, I recall not how exactly it related to air-forcing, we went potholing, possibly in the Forest Of Dean, down an old cave/mine system. It was all pucker and above-board and we had a guide and helmets with those lights on that Northern people seem to like. A top-tip at this point: if you're told to wear old clothes as you'll be crawling around down a (very) red iron ore mine, don't wear your cool jeans with big rips across the knees; your knees end up red from two causes.
Anyway, it was absolutely unlike any cave I'd been in before; you know, those touristy ones with the concrete walkways and handrails and coloured spotlights on the stalactites. This place was wild and full of wet bits and gravelly bits and no lights anywhere, just the lights we had attached to our helmets. At one point the guide got us all to switch out lights off to appreciate the impenetrable darkness. Deep.
There were various very crawly bits where we literally had out chins in the dirt and our backsides & helmets scraping the roof. We clambered and climbed, slithered & squirmed until we came to a point where there was a choice: either follow the guide through a long and very narrow twisty passage or take the slightly easier route around. Our guide advised the adults to take the longer route but assured us kids that we'd get through with no probs.
So off started, one by one, into this dark (duh) tunnel. It was indeed very tight and involved a couple of sections where it was necessary to twist from feet-first to head-first and back again. I suffer from mild claustrophobia, as I'm sure many people do, but had been doing alright until I became stuck, going head-first, downwards. The passage had narrowed in one dimension and I had evidently gone through it at slightly the wrong inclination resulting in my torso becoming wedged. I wriggled as much as I could but didn't come free. Somehow one arm managed to reach far enough to dislodge the battery-pack that was clipped to my belt, and this allowed me to slide backwards slightly, only to result in me becoming even more lodged.
Time and again I've tried to relate to people the feeling of being squeezed on all sides, and compared it to a bearhug, the difference in this case was that the bearhug was not from a jovial uncle, clasping me from behind, but solid rock. Where flexing one's arms and chest would provide a little wriggle room in the former case, such an attempt resulted in no give. Whatsoever. The rock, the cave, the continent, the plate, the Earth was hugging me in an embrace I could never brace against.
I panicked.
My breathing became quick and ragged, hard through my nose, and I started shaking. My body attempted to buck and every muscle from temple to tarsus tensed and relaxed in waves of spasms.
Then I began asking for help, at first in a whisper through clenched teeth and then more loudly. It seemed a very long time before anyone answered my screams, and I'm not sure how much self-control I had left.
Eventually a classmate appeared and offered some advice, whilst attempting not to snigger too hard my predicament. He was useless, but knowing there was someone else there, and that they had made it through, gave me enough rationality to think through how I was pinned.
We all made it out, and headed back to the helmet store to get scrubbed down before heading home, my fellow cadets taunting me all the way.
It could have been so much worse. Had we not all been filthy with iron ore and somewhat soaked from the water in the caves, my unforgiving classmates would have noticed the secret I dared never share until now: during my entrapment and subsequent struggles, my bladder had released and some of that piss had trickled downhill into my own mouth.
(GeorgeOfTheJungle has seen what it does to a penny, Thu 6 Mar 2014, 20:55, 17 replies)

during a lower sixth form school field trip, one of the girls arrived back at the coach looking most unhappy and rather wet
she'd gotten stuck in one of those chemical toilets and things had gone horribly wrong. poor girl, it can't have been nice, all dark and bleachy and wet. still, when she walked into the common room the next day (and for many more days, teenagers being so hilarious), the whole year started singing....

PORTALOO. COULDN'T ESCAPE IF SHE WANTED TO.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Sun 2 Mar 2014, 13:21, 5 replies)

Diana
Some years ago, I was out with a few friends in a quiet pub in Hobart Town, sitting in front of a log fire, warding off the winter chill with lots of beer and cigarettes. One of my mates had invited his cousin along, Diana.

Diana was really attractive… and a wee bit chunky…sexy chunky, you know, buxom chunky, like Liza Tarbuck. Not gunt-overhang chunky, like Dawn French. Not that I’d say no to a roll in the hay with Dawn French, understand, but really, in the Paper / Rock / Scissors world of rating chunky chicks, buxom-chunky beats gunt-chunky.

Anyway, I digress.

After some initial awkward intro conversation, Diana and I were soon getting along famously. We liked the same bands, had travelled to the same countries, liked the same foods, made each other laugh with witty stories etc. etc. Diana was from out of town, didn’t know anyone, and was delighted to have found a good company and was having a good night out.

Sometime later in the evening, the pub inevitably closes, and before long all of us are standing outside, in the cold, deciding whether to kick on or go home. I’d run out of money, and anyway, I’d had a great, night (Diana’s phone number in my pocket, scrawled on the back of a beer coaster), so I was happy to invite everyone back home, crank up the fire and get stuck into the cheap port.

We all stumble through the biting winter wind, and tumble through the door of my house. The fire is restoked with plenty of logs, everyone finds a big armchair, or a place on the old busted sofa, the port is passed around and slowly but surely, everyone settles quietly, gazing hypnotically at the fire. The lights are turned out, the flames make dancing shadows on the wall, and the wind howls outside, but we are snug, warm, happy, and I’m idly thinking I just might score a root tonight.

Everyone is drowsy, the room is quiet, Diana’s head on my lap, slowly brushing her cheek across my jeans, knowing perfectly well that my increasingly hard cock is most appreciative of the attention.

After a while, she looks up, motions towards my bedroom, so we quietly pick our way across the slumbering bodies, and snuggle into my bed.

Within minutes, our clothes are off, and Diana is kneeling over me, guiding my cock to her mouth, she slowly bobs her head up and down, running her tongue across the Japs Eye, gently nibbling the Banjo, and slowly taking the full length into her mouth. I’m in heaven, it feels unbelievable, and I feel I should reciprocate.

I gently pull at her body to indicate she should shift position, and in one slightly drunken lurching movement, she swings one leg over my head and we are straight into a 69. Diana grinding her big thighs and wonderful moist minge onto my face, my tongue gently running across the silken inner skin of her fertile delta.

Diana’s really aroused, my cock is getting a solid work over from her hot mouth, and she’s starting to buck and grind down hard on my face, but Fuck…I can’t breathe when she does that. Her full weight is pressing down on my body, her legs pin my arms, she’s a bit too drunk to notice my increasing writhing is not ecstasy, but early onset asphyxiation panic.

Fuck. I just can’t move, can’t speak for a mouth full of inner thigh and minge, and I’m trapped underneath a drunken hefty lass! I can’t fucking breathe, Jesus, what a way to die, fuck sakes Diana, gimme some air! In desperation, I decide to bite her, give her a little nip, just to make her jump, so I give her a quick sharp bite, but wtf? She squeals and grinds down harder!

Man, I’m struggling here, trapped, in desperation I have one last roll of the dice, one last attempt to gain her attention, so I push, push and strain, strain and squeeze, squeeze harder, and just as my I’m starting to black out, my cock softens just enough to respond and right as Diana realises something is wrong and quickly rolls off, I release a healthy stream of piss…right into my own mouth.
( Ken Oath, Sat 8 Mar 2014, 11:23, 24 replies)

Grave Mistake
Aged about 9 or 10 years old, I was playing with a few mates in a graveyard - it adjoined a park, and was treated as part of the park by all us kids. We were wandering amongst the gravestones, when we came across one of those large stone box-like tombs. This one caught our eye because the side had fallen out, revealing the hollow interior.

Peering in, we saw that the earth within had also collapsed, at one end in particular leaving a deep, dark hole disappearing into the ground. Not surprisingly, we started to dare each other to climb in. Woooo, spooky!

A couple of kids scrambled in then out again as soon as possible, and then it was my turn. I wriggled through the open side, then slid down into the depths. As my eyes became accustomed to the darkness, I saw that at the far end of the pile of earth there was a number of odd white things poking out. For a moment I was puzzled, then realised that they were, in fact, toe bones.

OK, time to leave, I decided. But at that point there was a creaking, grinding noise, and a change in the light - the box-like tomb had chosen that moment to complete its collapse; the other side fell out, the ends tilted and the lid settled down over me with a thud.

So, I'm now trapped in an occupied grave. Oh, terrific. Where's Scooby Doo when you need him? The darkness was absolute, and the shouts of the others seemed a very, very long way away.

Thankfully before panic could really set in, light reappeared as the largest and strongest of the group heaved the heavy slab up far enough for me to wriggle out, and (probably screaming like little girls) we legged it and headed for home. I think I spent the rest of the day under the duvet.

The next day, we returned to the scene, and I was chilled to discover that, without the boost of shock-induced adrenaline, he was unable to lift the slab...

Apologies to those old lags who've heard this before
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 13:14, 4 replies)

My ex-ex girlfriend and I got locked in Newcastle Keep.


We were on the roof looking at the view from the battlements of Henry II's New Castle upon the Tyne and didn't realise it was closing time. Obviously the staff didn't bother checking the Keep for any stragglers before locking the portcullis and going home.

We were none the wiser until we made our way to the exit and noticed that "Oh, we must be the last ones to leave", before pushing on the door to find it was locked tight with a medieval lock and chain.

I LOVE generally creepy things and despite not believing in ghosts and the like, particularly enjoy the spookiness of such places purely for the thrill of it. Therefore, I was super excited at the prospect of having to spend the night in a medieval castle and was ready to take full advantage of the situation by taking another more detailed tour of the building.

My girlfriend on the other hand, rapidly became a quivering, terrified wreck as the sound of chinking metal echoed down the 1000 year-old stairs and around the cold stone walls from the wind outside knocking the flag rope against its pole on the battlements.

Despite all my efforts to console her and explain quite how cool this situation was and that she should learn to appreciate these rare little events in life, I was forced to call the police before she had a proper breakdown, who then called the manager who apologetically let us out.

I would have just loved to have said, "It's ok, you can take her. I'll just stay here if you don't mind". Alas, I don't think that would have gone down well with any of the other parties.

TL;DR: I got locked in a castle.
( Fork Has lost his bash virginity!, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 13:37, 4 replies)

Last drinks?
A bit feeble, a bit long, but true.

Many, many years ago, (again in Hobart), my good friend John rented a flat above a rather posh delicatessen. It was a rather old building, with massive floor to ceiling windows, a rather wild 70’s décor makeover (think swirly wallpaper, burnt orange colour scheme), and long red velvet curtains on all the windows.

He shared this flat with his girlfriend Amy, and a couple of other chicks. As a youth, John was a brilliant athlete. He had represented our fine country in two sports (middle distance running, and field hockey), but he was a borderline alcoholic. He had ruined any chance of future national selection because he just loved to drink. After a while he could no longer rely on natural talent to get selected and in hindsight, he was just too young and too invincible to see what was happening.

Anyways, one fine evening, I had invited myself around to John’s flat, we had cooked up a good feast on the BBQ and I’d purchased a couple of cartons of nice cold beer to see us through the night. It was an unusual balmy evening for Hobart, so we had pulled aside the long velvet curtains and were happily sitting on the window sill, legs dangling outside, one floor up, music blaring, watching the evening traffic pass along Elizabeth Street, drinking beer, taking turns to see who could gob the furthest, and well, being a bit yobby about it all.

We had the flat to ourselves, as Amy and the other chicks were out on the town. Just two blokes, getting blind, talking shit, taking turns to grab another beer from the fridge, and generally, being a bit Neanderthal.

Inevitably, the beer started to have its effect, and I was busting for a piss. John must have been in a similar predicament too, but rather than hop back inside and make his way to the loo, he stood up on the window sill and let forth a mighty stream of beery piss into the street below.

Now this didn’t really surprise me at all, as I have lived with John and have witnessed him pissing down a flight of stairs simply to annoy everyone in the loungeroom below (it worked), trying to piss out of his bedroom window while blind drunk, but forgetting the window was head high, so only succeeding in showering himself in beery urine as it ricocheted violently off the wall, and, laying a massive vomit in a crowded bar, only to wipe his mouth, laugh, take advantage of the quickly parting crowd to make his way to the head of the queue at the bar and order another beer.

It would be an understatement to say that he lost all inhibitions when on the grog. I suppose I wasn’t really much better at that age.

Yeah well, anyway, his flat was above a rather posh delicatessen, and the owners of the delicatessen has installed some rather twee green and white canvas awnings above their shop windows, which were directly below us, so the flow of beery piss made a rather satisfying thrumming noise as it cascaded off the awning, and spattered all over the pavement.

So now the standard had been set. No more civilised visits to the loo, the seal had been well and truly broken. In-between visits to the fridge, and changes of music, either one of us would stagger to our feet, sway uncertainly in the window frame and release a hissing torrent of fetid liquid onto the awning below and admire the dispersion effect as it sprayed all over the pavement, giggling at the debauchery of it all. Nice.

After quite a few more beers, John turned on the telly, slumped into an armchair and slowly dozed off. I was content to sit in the window, finish off my last beer and consider dialing a taxi to take me home. While in thought, I struggled to my feet, unleashed another foul torrent of piss onto the awning, only to hear a chorus of voices objecting violently from the pavement below. I sniggered drunkenly to myself, thinking what a foul joke it must be, to be showered in beery piss from above.

But shit! Hang on, what was that noise, a key scraping in the front door? Angry voices coming down the hallway?…oh fuckity fuck! Jesus Christ, of course! Ken, you fucking moron, other people lived here. Oh. Fuck. I have just sprayed beery piss all over Amy and the girls as they were walking home! Fuck, I’m about to be revealed as the absolute animal I’ve become, in the company of this…this…this fucking career piss head.

I quickly draw the curtains to hide my shame, my pants are around my ankles, I try to haul them up before Amy busts in, but well…ultra-fucking hell…before I have time to blearily react, the door is flung open. From behind the curtain, I hear three very fucking angry girls swearing and hitting John, as he groggily flails around, trying to make sense of what’s happening.

After a minute, I realise they don’t know I’m in the room too, hiding behind the curtain, cock hanging out, piss spattered shoes, listening to the hiding they are dishing out to John. Jesus, this is just fucked up. If they go to close the window, they’ll find me, if I burp, fart, cough, need another piss, they’ll find me. Fuck.

I was presumed to have gone home, and John copped all the blame, which given his previous form, was hard to defend. John told them all to get to fuck, the girls harrumphed at him, everyone had some more drinks, argued and swore.




You know those rare moments in life, when you have a clear, cold, creeping realisation that really, you’re just gone a bit too far? Things were funny, being naughty was cool, but now it’s suddenly got all serious? You just want to be somewhere else, be a nicer, better person?

Well…for the next hour (at least it felt like that), I hid behind that fucking curtain, mere feet away from the others, bladder straining, daring not to breathe, while John protested his innocence, and the girls kicked up a stink.

Any minute, I expected to be revealed, pants around ankles, weakly smiling, maybe waving a feeble “hello”, to be always held in contempt for pissing on people.

Finally, Sweet Jesus…finally, they all went to bed. I crept out from behind the curtain, stole outside, across the piss soaked pavement and stumbled home, vowing never, ever to drink with John again.



Well, until the next weekend, that is.
( Ken Oath, Sun 9 Mar 2014, 12:25, 16 replies)

Annoyingly, I seem to have painted a long and slightly curly pube into the newly pale bathroom wall.
But I'm too lazy to repaint, so there it stays - trapped, like a grim tribute to Han Solo's carbonite period.

Starwars.
( Happy Phantom has been to Hastings, Brighton, and Eastbourne too, Mon 3 Mar 2014, 14:03, 27 replies)

Report. But I like this story.
At one of the larger UK festival a call comes over the radio from a fairly bemused response team.

The victim had a lobe extension, what this effectively is, is a ear piercing that has been stretched and a hoop inserted to give a clear opening. Sometimes these are a few millimetres at most, sometimes they're wide enough to fit a can of redbull through.

Someone completely unknown to the victim approached him and after a brief conversation, then said the following "You know what would make a cool picture? If I was to padlock you to that fencing through your ear!"

The victim agreed that it indeed would make a cool picture. The protagonist produced a padlock from his pocket, they approached the nearest fencing and he was duly locked to it through a lovingly stretched hole in his flesh.

The protagonist unfortunately didn't stick around to take a picture. He didn't even release the poor sod. Instead, he just fucked off and left him.
( Muns, Mon 3 Mar 2014, 16:38, 23 replies)

Have a bit of a thing for free-diving underwater arches.
First one I found was a hole through a fallen slab of rock in a large cave by Navaggio beach on Zakynthos - the famous one with the washed-up ciggy ship rusting on the beach, photographed from the neighbouring clifftop - the cave is clearly visible in most photos. You have to dive fairly deeply on the right-hand-side then ascend through the hole. First time I found it I half-expected to hear a 'pling' and find a rolled-up medikit.

There's another good one around to the right of the monastery peninsula in Paleokastritsa in Corfu, just before you come round into the natural bay you can look down on from the Monastery itself. Again, best to go past it, dive down and rise up as you come back through it. But best to do it accompanied and all at your own risk - though these aren't long tunnels so risk of getting trapped is minimal; so long as you're capable of making the depth.

However, I came a bit unstuck attempting a fairly narrow one near the island rock off Kampos beach (Kefalos) in Kos. It was quite a narrow underwater gully with two arches of rock criss-crossing at one point and flanges of rock either side of the exit. I managed it once on my back, taking a photograph upward. Second time I went through but finding myself short of air, rose a little too early. One ankle and flipper got wedged firmly between the rocks and stopped me short about six inches below the surface. This is not a fun situation to be in.

Desparately fighting the urge to panic and maybe tear my foot off, I pulled myself back down on my own leg, released the flipper, drew my foot out and freed both, before finally surfacing for air.

What I hadn't noticed until then was all the fire-worm stings embedded in my arm and back from faffing about in the tight space, nor the bits of coral that embedded in my back and gave me a nasty cyst just beside my spine.

Though there is worse - apparently there's a deceptive optical illusion in the 'Blue Hole' in the Red Sea, also known as the 'Diver's Graveyard'. It looks like a short underwater hole leading out to the open sea, but is in fact a conical tunnel 26m long that tempts divers down to 52m, and on their 30m dive gear they get nitrogen narcosis and run out of air long before they reach the end, lose bouyancy, and sink all the way to the bottom.
( joefish It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 16:22, 18 replies)

budgies are not very bright
the one we had when I was a child was something of a rocket scientist amongst budgies. but still, in the grand scheme of things, not very bright. however, budgies are as curious as they are stupid, and this is not a great combination.

joey wasn't allowed in the kitchen, but my brother and I used to sneak it in there because it was so funny dancing around all the shiny things and thinking there were other budgies hiding in the toaster and the kettle. then one day its beady eyes fell on the tall spaghetti jar. and its entire tiny life purpose became dedicated to solving the mystery: what was in the jar? (it was a glass jar. clearly it was spaghetti.)

joey flew up to the top of the jar and managed to gain purchase on the lip. it spent ages trying to heave off the wooden lid, probably equivalent to me trying to haul the cover off a well. then my mother came in and joey was banished instantly. this was repeated over several weekend, until eventually joey's persistence paid off. the vanquished enemy lay on the kitchen floor, with the triumphant joey perched on the lip of the jar, cocking its head to peer down at it like parrots do.

unfortunately for joey, its irresponsible 6 and 8 year old owners had fucked off. so when the inevitable happened, and joey fell in the jar, we weren't around to rescue it. it must have spent at least an hour squashed up in a glass tube, beak and tail mashed against the glass, wondering what the fuck was going on.

eventually someone came in and rescued it, and the freed prisoner flew around the kitchen in happy relief. then, on its second circuit, its beady eye once more alighted on the spaghetti jar.

in the end, we had to get rid of the jar, as my mother got sick of having a jar of spaghetti that we could never eat.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Tue 4 Mar 2014, 8:30, 29 replies)

I got locked in the server room one evening
my phone was on my desk and my only way to communicate with the outside world was the mail server. Not knowing who (if anyone) was left in the office, I emailed the staff general list begging for assistance. Luckily, someone was still there. Less luckily, everyone in the entire company (including people on other sites and even one guy on sabbatical) also got the email the next morning and for the remainder of my tenure I was known as "that guy who got locked in the server room".
( pineapplecharm D d M Y, H:i, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 14:57, 2 replies)

Sad times. After defending his creepy office perv habits for nearly three hundred posts, the Lift Sniffer has gone chickenshit and deleted his thread.

( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Fri 7 Mar 2014, 16:23, 39 replies)

Awkward dinner.
Was once stuck in that awful situation where you enjoy a group dinner for the food immensely more than the company. And seeing as though this was a supreme and well cooked roast I was naturally ignoring conversation to the point of keeping my mouth full so I couldn't talk back. What I remember distinctly from this meal though was the gravy, it was magnificent. Some people think Bisto is enough and strangely in this instance it was. I probably took acid or something the hour before because it was astounding. Inevitably, beer was passed around, then wine, I was told later on that I was insanely drunk and upon trying to leave it was visibly obvious that I couldn't stand let alone move on my legs. It was rather concerning until I realised I was caught in a trap, I can't walk out, because I love you too much, gravy.
( Christian's Bolt and Ski, Thu 6 Mar 2014, 17:58, 30 replies)

my friend evie is one of those people who is very bright... but also spectacularly thick
when she was training as a solicitor, she had a massive crush on her supervisor. they were working in an office together, and his desk had a column next to it.

one evening they were working late, and a combination of his proximity and sleeplessness gave her a sudden rush to the head. after discussing a vital tax point with him, instead of walking away like a normal person, she tried to shimmy seductively through the space between the column and his desk.

evie is not very tall but she is very sporty. whilst she is not remotely fat, she does have a rather noticeable derriere from years of running around with a hockey stick. this promptly got wedged between the column and his desk. or, as she put it, "I was trapped, wriggling around like a worm in a sack." at first she confined herself to small wiggles, hoping that he wouldn't notice. but gradually as she got more and more desperate, she had to shake herself free. finally she managed it, but not before she had popped the arse pocket button clean off her suit trousers. it pinged over and hit the object of her affection.

he handed it back to her without saying a word.

she never did get in his pants.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Mon 3 Mar 2014, 12:34, 11 replies)

Marooned on an island
A very, very long time ago, when I was about 19, I went for a month to Southern Ireland. It was all part of an exploration group and one of the projects was to catch and ring storm petrels on a depopulated island off the Dingle Peninsula. Blasket Island it was called. Local fishermen took us across to the place in their fragile looking coracle style rowing boats. It was arranged they return after three days. High winds kept them away for a further three days. Real Robinson Crusoe stuff. No radio and mobile phones wouldn't be invented for another 25 years.Trapping and gutting rabbits, eating shellfish,(which I loath), were the order of the day.
( MaxineBasset Betty Basset Bombs are Better, Sun 2 Mar 2014, 9:10, 5 replies)

Seven o’clock in the morning
And the rays from the sun wakes me
I’m stretchin’ and yawnin’
In a bed that don’t belong to me
And a voice yells, “Good morning, darlin”, from the bathroom
Then she comes out and kisses me
And to my surprise, she ain’t you

Now I’ve got this dumb look on my face
Like, what have I done?
How could I be so stupid to have laid here til the morning sun?
Must have Lost the track of time
Oh, what was on my mind?
From the club, went to her home
Didn’t plan to stay that long

Here I am, quickly tryin’ to put on my clothes
Searching for my car keys
Tryin’ to get on up out the door
Then she stretched her hands in front of it
Said, “You can’t go this way”
Looked at her, like she was crazy
Said, “Woman move out my way”
Said, “I got a wife at home”
She said, “Please don’t go out there”
“Lady, I’ve got to get home”
She said, her husband was comin’ up the stairs

“Shh, shh, quiet
Hurry up and get in the closet”
She said, “Don’t you make a sound
Or some shit is going down”
I said, “Why don’t I just go out the window?”
“Yes, except for one thing, we on the 5th floor”
“Shit think, shit think, shit quick, put me in the closet”
And now I’m in this darkest closet, tryin’ to figure out
Just how I’m gonna get my crazy ass up out this house

Then he walks in and yells, “I’m home”
She says, “Honey, I’m in the room”
He walks in there with a smile on his face
Sayin’, “Honey, I’ve been missin’ you”
She hops all over him
And says, “I’ve cooked and ran your bath water”
I’m tellin’ you now, this girl’s so good that she deserves an Oscar

throws her in the bed
And start to snatchin’ her clothes off
I’m in the closet, like man, what the fuck is going on?
You’re not gonna believe it
But things get deeper as the story goes on
Next thing you know, a call comes through on my cell phone
I tried my best to quickly put it on vibrate
But from the way he act, I could tell it was too late
He hopped up and said, “There’s a mystery going on
And I’m gonna solve it”
And I’m like, “God please, don’t let this man open this closet”

He walks in the bathroom
And looks behind the door
She says, “Baby, come back to bed”
He says, “Bitch say no more”
He pulls back the shower curtain
While she’s biting her nails
Then he walks back to the room
Right now, I’m sweating like hell
Checks under the bed
Then under the dresser
He looks at the closet
I pull out my Beretta
He walks up to the closet
He goes up to the closet
Now he’s at the closet
Damn he’s opening the closet…






(CHAPTER 2)

Well...
Now he’s staring at me like
As if he was starin’ in a mirror
She yells honey let me explain
He says you don’t have to go no further
I can clearly see what’s goin’ on
Behind my back, in my bed, in my home
Then I said wait a minute now hold on
I said mister we can work this out
She said honey don’t lose control
I tried to get him to calm down
He said hoe I should’ve known
That you would go and do some bogus shit up in my house
But the Christian in me gave you the benefit of the doubt
I said we need to resolve this
Then he stepped to me, I’m like whoa
There’s a reason I’m in this closet
He says, yeah what are you talkin’ close?
I met this girl at the Pagis club
And she told me she didn’t have a man
Then he said man please,
I’d kill you if you didn’t have that gun in ya hand
And then I said but yo chick chose me
He said don’t give me that mack shit please
His phone goes off and then things get a little more interesting
He steps a little closer
I point my gun and says I’m not the one you after
He says son I bet you didn’t know my man
Did she tell you that I was a pastor
I said well good that’s betta right,
Why can’t we handle this Christian- like?
And I started to put the gun down
Til I saw his face still had a frown
She started cryin’, sayin’ baby I’m sorry
Then he said baby not as sorry as you’re gonna be
I started inchin’ out
He says no I want you to see this
Said I gotta get out this house
He said not til I reveal my secret
I’m like what is goin’ on inside his head?
Then he takes his phone and calls somebody up and says
Hello, Baby, turn the car around
Listen I just need for you to get right back here now (Click)
He looks at me and says well since we’re all comin’ out the closet
I’m not about to be the only one that’s broken hearted
And she said what do you mean?
And he said just wait and see
I said somebody betta talk to me
And then his phone rings
He picks up and somebody says sweetheart I’m downstairs
And he’s like I’ll buzz you up
I’m on the fifth floor, hurry take the stairs
And I’m like who is this mystery lady that you’re talking to?
He says in time you both will know the shockin’ truth
Baby this is something I been wanting to get off my chest for a long, long time
Then I said nigga Imma shoot you both if you don’t say what’s on ya mind
He said wait I hear somebody comin’ up the stairs
And I’m lookin’ at the door
He says I think you betta sit down in the chair
I says I’m gonna’ count to four
1, he says mister wait
2, she says please don’t shoot
3, he says don’t shoot me
4, she screams
Then a knock on the door, the guns in my hands
He opens the door, I can't believe it's a man

(CHAPTER 3)


Well, here we are the four of us,
in total shock me and her,
I close my mouth, and swallow spit,
as I'm thinking to myself this is some deep shit,
then I said so your gonna tell me he's the one
you've been talking to,
he says yes, I says no, he says yes, I says no,
he says it's the truth,
I yell "all of ya'll asses crazy,
let me up out this door", because this is way
more than I bargained for,
and then she says wait,
I'm sure we can all fix this, and then I said I’m late,
Cuz I ain't got a damn thing to do with this.....



Then she said but wouldn't you like to know
just how it all begin,
then I thought to myself and said quick you got 3 minutes,
And then it got real quiet,
I said somebody start talkin, then she said
And then she said "My God Rufus, I got just one question,
HOW COULD YOU DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS I"M SO HURT?!?!"
Then he looked at her and said bitch please you got
yo nerve, with all yo club hoppin'
lying sayin' you was shoppin',
and now here you are in
our home, and you calling
me wrong, she said ok you busted me,
and that much I agree,
you caught me cheating,
but this is a little extreme,
he said you are my wife,
sleeping behind my back,
and now I come home and you got him in the closet,
how extreme is that?......



She says but she's a he,
then he says please you can't judge me,
she says Rufus this is crazy,
and I said stop arguing,
I did not stay here to hear y’all chew
each other out, so get to the point,
or I swear I'm out, excuse me please,
but I think I can explain what's going in
here, my name is Chuck, and I've been
knowin' Rufus bout a year,
at midnight creeping around with him it's been a living hell,
sneaking in and out of hotels,
I said brother spare me
the details, then Rufus said Chuck please,
don't say nothin' else, and then she screams Rufus
you son of a bitch,
and he says Cathy go to hell,
I said I thought you name was Mary,
that's what you said at the party,
man this is getting scary,
I'm gonna shoot somebody......




Then Rufus starts yellin' and screaming
saying Cathy this is all yo fault,
she throws a pillow at him
and says you was creepin' too the only difference
is you didn't get caught,
Chuck scream out we're in love
Cathy says love my ass
Rufus say they gettin' married
then I shoot one in the air,
then I say not another one of
you sons of bitches say a word,
cause all of this shit I'm going through
is unheard, grab my cellular,
sayin' this is so wrong,
call up my home,
and a man picks up the phone......................



(CHAPTER 4)


Now I'm dashin’ home
Doin’ 85
Swervin’ lane to lane
Wit fire in my eyes
I got a million thoughts
goin’ through my mind
I'm thinkin’ about what Imma do and who I'm gonna do it to when I get home
How could I have been so blind
And then I look in my rear view
I cannot believe this
(Whoo whoo whoo)
Damn, here comes a police man
He drove right up on me and flashed his light
Then I pulled over without thinkin’ twice
He hopped out the car and walked over to me
And said license and registration please
I looked up at him and said
Officer, is there somethin’ wrong
He said no, except you was doin’ 60 in a 45 mile zone
Then I said officer
Let me explain please
Ya see the truth of the matter is
Is that I got an emergency
He said no excuses
And no exceptions
He flicks his cigarette and then gives me the ticket
Said have a nice day and walked away
I said yeah right and drove away
Then I turned my radio on
And did 50 all the way home
I pulled up in the driveway
Hopped out and slammed the car door
Then go around the back
Bust up in the house and she screamin’
What’s all that for
Then I'm like woman I called this house
And a man picked up my phone
Then she says calm down
Did you forget
My brother Twan came home
Oh...
And that’s all I could say was oh
Wit a stupid look on my face
Said I forgot he came home today
And she said that’s okay
Because honey I understand
She said you don’t have to explain
Then I took her by the hand
I kissed her and then we went to the room
And then I turned some music on
Apologized one more time
Then went down and start gettin’ it on
And she started bitin’ her lips
Grabbing me and makin’ noise
Now we makin’ love and she's in my ear whisperin’
It's all yours
I said I love you
And she said I love ya, too
Then a tear fell up out my eye
Then I called her my sunshine
And then she looked at me
And said baby go deeper please
And that’s when I start goin’ crazy
Like I was tryin to give her a baby
The room feel like its spinnin’
Cuz We keep turnin’ and turnin’
As if we were in a whirlwind
The way our toes are curlin’
Then next thing ya know, she starts goin’ real wild
And screamin’ my name
And then I said baby, we must slow down
Before I bust a vessel in my brain
She said please no don’t stop
And I said I caught a cramp
Then she said please keep on goin’
I said my leg is about to crack
Then she cries out
Oh my goodness, I'm about to climax
And I said cool
Climax
Just let go of my leg
She says you're the perfect lover
I said I can’t go no further
Then I flip back the cover
Oh my God, a rubber...





(CHAPTER 5)


And now I'm like
Well, well, well
What the fuck is this
A condom in my bed
Ya better start talkin’, bitch
'Fore I take a match and
Burn this muthafucka down
I said you better start talkin’
And start talkin’ right god damn now
Then she said baby
I'm so speechless
Then I said my baby
You gone be breathless
If ya don’t start talkin’ quick
Woman, I'm gone have a fit
You don’t know what ya fuckin wit
Girl ya better cut the bullshit
Now its obvious somebody has been all up in my home
In my bed, and plus I smell cigarettes
Now I’m sniffin’ and lookin’ around
Suspicious like someone's here
Then I looked in her eyes and in her eyes
There was so much fear
Pull out my gun said is he still here
She shook her head and said no
I'm checkin’ behind every door
She cried out he left right after you called
I said what the fuck was you thinking
You thought that I wouldn’t find this out
Then I said you must be crazy or on crack to have somebody off up in my muthafuckin house
She hopped up and said that’s enough
She said I can’t take no more
And then she said you made your point
But now it’s time to even the score
She said I know all about last night
And where you went when you left the club
Said that’s right, nigga I was there
Wit this guy in the back of the club
I said I thought you was wit yo girls?
She said I thought you was wit yo guys?
She said you was at that bitches house
And don’t even try to act surprised
I Said babe, she said shut up
Don’t you say a word
It ain’t nothin’ you can say
That I aint already heard
Then I said woman, don’t you try to turn it all around
Cause the fact still remains that someone else was in my house
Then she said you're right about that
Somethin’ did go down, but I don’t have to turn it around
Cause what goes around comes back around
I'm movin’ a little closer to her
She's trippin’ over the furniture
She said wait first, just let me explain
I said no need to, just give me his name
And then she says uh...uh
I say uh what
She says please sit down in the chair
And I say no, I'm standin’ up
And then she cries out I'm so scared to tell you because of what ya might do
And I screamed look girl you better give me this man's name and I'm not playin’ wit you
She says okay, wipes her nose and asks me about a girl named Tina
I thought to myself, said it sounds familiar
Then said I probably know her if I seen her
Then I said anyway girl, what the hell does that got to do with this man
She said he know my girl Roxanne
I say who the hell is Roxanne
Then she say Roxanne's a friend of mine who know with this guy named Chuck
Chuck's cool wit this guy name Rufus
And I'm sittin’ there like what the fuck
Then she says Rufus wife, Cathy
We both went to high school
She introduced me to
The policeman that stopped you

(CHAPTER 6)
Believe it or not I just started laughin'
Shakin' my head and just kept on laughin'
Thinkin' about all the things I had been through that day
Then she cries "what? Why do you have that smile upon your face?"
Then I laughed out, said "thinkin' about all of the things that I've been through"
She wipes her nose then she sniggles and laughs out "I've been through it too"
Then I start laughin' again and she start laughin' more
Then next thing you know we both are crackin' up on the floor
Then she laughs out "I can't believe this idiot really answered my phone!"
Now meanwhile 'Twon just got out of prison and he's on his way home
Then she yells "baby I'm sorry for all the lies and all the bullshit"
Then I said "girl just wait 'til I tell you all the drama that I've been dealin' with
She laughs "I wanna hear it all"
Then I laughed and said "baby first of all
I got a hangover, been trapped in the closet
Slept with who knows, threatened to kill a pastor"
She says "what?!?"
"Baby this is no lie he had a lover, turns out to be a gay guy"
She says "damn, you've been through a lot of shit"
"Plus I got a ticket!"
Meanwhile the policeman, he turns around
Just out of concern, comes back to the house
Then he pulls up in the driveway
My car's parked crooked with the lights on
Then he goes around the back way
He heard the dogs barkin' like something's wrong
He gets to the back door and discover it's been broken in
He looks around, pulls his gun out, then proceeds in
Meanwhile we're laughin' and laughin' and laughin'
But from his perspective he thinks somebody's cryin'
He gets closer to the bedroom and he would swear that somebody was coughin' and sighin'
Meanwhile we're in the bedroom laughin' as I'm tryin' to continue to explain
She yells out "Sylvester you're killin' me!"
I said "I swear that it went that way!"
Then next thing you know he bust up in the room
And said "motherfucker, freeze"
And then I looked up back at him and said "wait - you're that damn police"
Then she screamed "baby, I mean James" she says "everything is cool"
And then he yells "Gwendolyn I got this, I know you're sick and tired of this fool"
And then I stood up, start walkin' towards him screamin' "man get out my house!"
Then he yelled "freeze!" She screamed "please!" I pulled my beretta out
She cried out "Sylvester, please don't"
Visions of him making love to her
He said "man, put the gun on the floor"
I can't stop thinking about him and her
I slowly put the gun down
And then I put my hands up
He winked at me and smiled
And that is when I went nuts
Hopped all over him, grabbed the gun, she's screamin' "settle down"
Goin' all around the room, both hands on the gun
Then all of a sudden "pow"...

(CHAPTER 7)
There's total silence, blood everywhere
And confusion on their faces as they continue to stare
Then Gwen starts shakin' and cryin' screamin' "What did you do?"
And then the policeman looks at me and screams "See, now I warned you."
Then he starts pacing the floor screamin' "God, what have we done here?!"
Then she rushed to to door, blood on her hands screamin' "There goes your whole career."
Meanwhile, I'm freakin' out sayin' "We gotta do somethin' and gotta do somethin' quick."
Then he picks up the gun and says "I have a wife at home, I can't have no parts of this."
She says "James, I can't believe you just said what you said.
Cause that's not what you was said when your ass was in my bed."
Then I said "Gettin' married later, but right now we gotta use our heads. First of all, did anybody check if the man was alive or dead."
Then he looks at her, she looks at me, I look at them and we look at him.
Meanwhile, Gwen's about to have a nervous breakdown the way she's shakin' and cryin'
And then she screams "You bastards! You've killed my brother."
And then I said "Gwen, wait a minute, I didn’t..."
She says "No, you killed my brother."
She said "He just got out of prison. He's been through a lot. He was talking about changin' his life and everything and to come home and get shot
Then I said "Baby, it wasn't my fault. This man had a gun on me.
And besides, how was I to know that you was getting down with this crooked ass police."
And he says " Now Wait a minute..." I say "Naw, you wait a minute!"
And then I say "Man, this is my wife. We had a life until you butted up in it."
She cried out "Sylvester, now hold on. Even though he was in our home, let's not forget the fact that you was out there creepin' in another man's home."
*Cough cough* *cough cough*
Twon starts coughin'. *cough cough*
And she says "Twon! Oh my god! Baby brother, are you okay ?"
And he looks up at her and says "I'm not gonna die, at least not today."
And then he asks what happened? "Sis, why did I get shot?
Sylvester what is this policeman doin' here ?"
And I said "Go on, tell him cop."
He says "Son, we gotta get you to a hospital and take a look at that wound."
Twon says "No, I'm okay. It's just my shoulder. All I need is a bathroom."
Now five minutes has gone by and they tellin' Twon everything that happened
Twon say "Shit, man I would've been better off in prison."
And now somebody's banging at the door and I'm like "Aww naw! Here we go again!"
Thinkin' out loud to myself sayin' "When is this shit gonna end ?!"
Then Gwendolyn looks at me and says "Baby, you got that?" And I say "NO!"
She says "Why?" And i said "Because I'm not openin' up another motherfuckin' door!"
And the cop says "Gwen, I'll get it." Then looks at me and say "Man of the house, my ass!"
Then I say "I'll get it, but whoever it is, I'm about to put their ass on blast!"
And then, the policeman grabbed me. I snatched away and got my gun up off the floor
Then Twon says "Man, that's what I'm talkin' about! Sylvester, point that shit toward the door! "
Then he snatches the policeman's gun and says "Officer, arrest me later."
I count to three, Twon opened the door and it's Rose the nosy neighbour...
Ooh, with a spatula in her hand (spatula)
Like that's gone do something against them guns
It's Rosy the nosy...whoa
Neighbour....

(CHAPTER 8)
The policeman gets in his car
And gets right on the phone
Backing up, shaking his head saying
"Let me get my crazy ass home"
And his wife picks up and says
"Darlin' where have you been,
I've been worried about you"
And he says "Police business, honey, I can't wait
to tell you what I've been going through"
She says "Are you okay?" "Yes"
"Do you need anything?" "No"
"Well, I baked you a pie" "Mmm"
"Your favourite: Cherry"
Then he said "I'll be there soon.
Sorry I kept you hanging"
Then she said, "Honey, don't worry about it
Just take your time, I still got some cleanin'"
Now meanwhile Misses Roseys back at Gwen's house
Tellin’ it all
She said "I knew there was something about that policeman
I started to cut lose my dog"
Then Gwendolyn looks at her and laughs and says
"Miss Rosey you are nuts"
Then I say "all I wanted to know
was what was you gonna do with that spatula"
And then we all laughed
Twon says "shes a G no doubt"
Now let’s head right back on over
To the policeman's house
He pulls up in the garage
She didn't expect for him to come that soon
She rushed to the door
kisses him on the cheek says "I was in the restroom"
Then he said "Whatcha say that for?"
And then she says "I don't know"
Then he step back, look at her and says
"Whatcha all jittery for?"
Then she says "Sweetheart, maybe it's that time of the month"
Then he says "Maybe? Maybe that time of the month?"
And then she says "You know what I mean"
He says "I know what came out yo mouth"
He said "you said maybe"
Then she says "baby," he walks in the house
And she tries to lead him upstairs
But he goes straight to the kitchen
She says "Hun, I bought you some pears"
And then he said "I'ma heat this chicken"
Then she turns around thinking to herself
With this weird look on her face
Then he screams "Woman, what wrong witchu,
why you walking back and forth, pacing?"
Before she answers she's thinkin' to herself
"What am I to say?"
Because the truth of the matter is
is that she just slept with another man today
And he started calling her name
"Bridget, I know you her me"
But she can't turn around
Because the truth on her face
He will see it
Then he screams "Bridget"
"Yes" "Look at me"
Bridget turns around and then he says
"Whatcha got up your sleeve?"
She's scared out of her mind
Stuttering and shaking and
still talking about some pears
He starts screaming saying
"Look woman, I done told you I’m not going up no stairs"
Now he's got a funny feeling
Something just don't seem right
He's looking at her while she's backing up
Then he says "With all my might,
Woman, I swear I'ma shoot somebody
if you been doing wrong"
But little does he know that
somebody is still right there in his home

(CHAPTER 9)
He looks around the kitchen, and says 'something is really weird',
And she says 'why do you say that?' He says 'cos you keep tryin' to get me outta here',
He says 'ever since I been in this house your face has went from white to red
and remember when I first walked through the door you acted like you had seen a ghost from the dead'

Then he says 'girl if you hidin' something I’m gonna be so mad', then he hears
something fallin’ he says ' what the fuck was that?'
She said ' it sound like it came from upstairs, sounds like the plumbing',
He said 'woman that sound did not come from upstairs, I'll be damned if you're not up to something,

Said "Now the sound that i just heard, it came from this kitchen," and then he looks over by the stove
while shes easin' over by the dishes. And then he walks over to the refrigerator and pushes it back,
and then he looks in her face, looks like she’s about to have a heart-attack, then he notices the pie on the counter
One slice is missing, now the stories gettin' scary, cos he comes to realise that Bridget is allergic to cherries.

Then he slowly looks up at her and now her face is red as hell, he's breathing real hard,
movin' closer, she says 'hon you don't look so well'
And then he says move
She says no
He says move
She says no
BITCH MOVE!!! she moves, and then, he looks at the cabinet,
he walks to the cabinet, get close to the cabinet, now he's opening the cabinet.
Now pause the movie cos what I'm about to say to ya'll is so damn twisted,
Not only is there a man in his cabinet, but the man... is a MIDGET!

(CHAPTER 10)
Now the midget jumps outta the cabinet and stomps the policemen on his toe
The policemen hoppin’ around on one leg screamin’ "son of bitch" while he runs under the table
He yells ''freeze'' dives over the table and lands on the midget...while the midget is kickin’
real fast screamin’ out “Bridget, Bridget” ,
She yells “darlin’ don't hurt ‘em"
He says “Bridget get yo' ass back”...then he continues to rough up the midget as if the midget was under attack...
Then Bridget runs up to her room, goes in her purse and pulls a number out...
The police puts him on the table and yells "Man, what the hell you doin' in my house?!"
He whips cherry pie crust off his mouth and says man, I was paid not to tell you
Then the police pulls his gun out and yells trespassin’ man I got the right to shoot you..
The midget says “mister, the man that pay me to this would kill me if I tell”
He points the gun in his face, the midget say ''god I think I just shitted on myself''
Now at Sylvester's house Twon gotta patch on his shoulder playin’ cards getting’ alone
There laughing and talking when Sylvester says Gwendolyn, baby, get the phone
Then she walks away from the table picks it up and say "hello" there's a lady on the other line panic-n-
cryin’ and talkin’ all off the wall,
Gwen says “wait slow down, who am I talkin’ to”
"My names Bridget and I found your number in my husband's pocket, I had to call you"
two minutes later Gwen shakin’ her head sayin’ “girl I understand,” Sylvester says “who is it baby?”
She hangs up and gives him the address,
Now meanwhile back at the policemen house the midget cryin’ his ass off while he lyin’ through his teeth ‘bout
to get his lil’ ass told off,
Then Bridget bust in the kitchen with a double barrel sayin’ "James I can't let you do this"
Then he looks at her and says “what? You shoot me for this
fuckin’ midget” she says "I love him"

Now Bridget and James starin’ each other down slowly backin’ apart, then the midget takes his inhaler out
and says “this is not good for my heart,”
Then James says "Bridget don't make me do this baby put the gun down"...that’s when Sylvester and Twon
busted up in the house... and says you put the gun down..whoo while Twon & Sylvester are sniffin’ around...
tryna figure out what’s that smell...as they turn and look at each other like whaaat the...hell.....?
( BraynDedd Natasha Kaplinsky's labia majora, Sat 1 Mar 2014, 13:17, 17 replies)

November, and the central heating had just started leaking everywhere
It was my own fault, I suppose. NEVER run a 'cleaning' solution through your system if the muck is the only thing keeping it watertight!

So I stayed up all night draining and removing all 4 rads in the flat. At 8am 4 shiny new rads turned up. I lugged them up to the 2nd floor and set about hanging them on the walls. Wifey goes to work.

I drilled a couple of holes for the first bracket, then moved up to the other end and drilled 2 more. Then I stuck my finger into one of the holes "to clear it". The 100-year old, filthy, splintered laths parted easily and then closed on my finger like a vice studded with needles. A little blood. Oh. Then I realised that all my tools were 2 metres away at the far end of the rad. I was alone in the house. What a plonker.
I tried for about 10 minutes to coax a screwdriver towards me with my outstretched toes, the whole while trying not to push, pull or twist my finger. Eventually I took off my trousers (no mean feat when you're one-handed and in pain) and used them to drag/snag a screwdriver to within reach.

My wife was very emotional when I told her about it later.

Be safe, kids!
(CADmonkey rollllllllled another one, just like the other one, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 18:16, 3 replies)

( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Mon 10 Mar 2014, 20:52, 14 replies)

Massive drugs
One night I ventured to a grubby student flat to try some massive LSD drugs.
All was going well, a pleasant experience, until I went to the bathroom.
There was no light, other than what the slightly ajar door provided.
I could just make out the black and white chequered floor tiles.
Suddenly, the door closed. Pitch black engulfed me.
Then my eyes adjusted in the moonlight coming through the window and I could make out the chequered floor again.
Unfortunately my drug-addled brain kicked in. What was once a floor was now not quite.
I had fallen through the floor. The tiles now above me like a solid net. Like an optical illusion gone wrong.
Panic set in.
Then the door opened, someone else wanting to use the toilet.
Relief, rescue, reality returning.
Until the rescuer realised that they were disturbing me and politely closed the door.
Pitch black engulfed me.
Then my eyes adjusted in the moonlight coming through the window and I could make out the chequered floor again…
(durtydriscoll, Thu 6 Mar 2014, 23:37, 15 replies)

Surprising 70s tale of not suffocating.
As kids do, "let's play hide and seek" with my gang of local friends on an otherwise boring featureless summer afternoon at my folks' place when I was about 8.

There was enough garden/garage/bushes/trees to hide in or up but they'd mainly all been used before. BUT! In a fit of inspiration I realised that NO ONE would think to hide in my mum's car. Using the "count to 100" (1-2-3-4-5-20-30-60-100! COMING READY OR NOT) I got the car keys off the peg and ran to the car at the bottom of the drive.

Unlock the car, get in the car, oh no the windows....I'll be spotted. AHA! Get on the boot, no windows. The perfect hiding place.

Dash around the back, unlock the boot, scramble in and close the lid. Ha hah, they'll never find me. Ten minutes pass, silence. The findees are wandering past the car with the finder, I can hear them "Maybe he's gone in the house?" Glee glee glee I have outwitted them all.

They can't find me. I am all ready to burst out from my hiding place and SURPRISE THEM ALL, ha hah again!

How do you get out of a car boot from the inside? It's dark. I can't see anything. My searching fingers getting increasingly desperate can't figure out how to undo the lock from the inside- indeed it was not designed to be in a Mk 1 Ford Escort.

Oh dear. Oh dear indeed. Panic. HELP HELP HELP. No one heard. HELP HELP BANG BANG KICK on inside of boot lid. No one came. Flurry of blows, kicks and hits on the boot lid while yelling at the top of my lungs.

Finally over the sound of Grandstand on the TV, dad comes out to investigate the noise. Clocks what has happened -calls through the boot lid "Don't worry I'll just get the key and you'll be out of there in a jiffy."

Dad ambles calmly back to the key rack. Keys are missing. Dad looks around quickly then it dawns on him that I needed the keys to unlock the car. Comes back to the car.

"Have you got the keys in there with you?"

"Errrrrr......yes."

"With the leather keyfob on it?"

"Yes."

"Which also has the spare key on it?" (WHY?)

-Feels around in the dark-

"I think so."

Cue dad calling a locksmith to get the lid open before I suffocate.

Despite the fact I clearly recall the locksmith not drilling the lock but merely trying one after another of a dinner-plate sized keyrings' worth of at least 300 different master keys on, it took another 30 minutes or so to spring me.

Given that this was the 70s and kids were dying in abandoned fridges as hiding places, I consider myself quite lucky.
( Rotating Wobbly Hat That's not a banana. THIS is a banana., Wed 5 Mar 2014, 16:47, 19 replies)

Almost gone
About 6 years ago, I was washing my wife's car on the drive. Our drive slopes at about 10 degrees downwards away towards the road and although not a problem for most cars, the wife was driving an old Rover 25 at the time and its handbrake was just about shot. So we got in the habit of leaving it in first and putting a brick behind the back wheel as well as the handbrake. We'd been doing this for about a year as we saved for a new car.

So I wash the body work, and I'm cleaning the alloys. I put my hand through the gap and all of a sudden, there is a screech, and the car just goes down the slope about 20cm and the car stops in the gears.

20cm may not sound much (actress to bishop), but with my hand through one of the gaps in the alloy, my wrist is heading around towards the brake piston with no gap and I'm not quick enough to pull it out..

And then it stops. My wrist is trapped, but with about 1mm either way. Another 2cm down the hill and it would have been bye, bye hand.

I won't lie, panic kicked in and I just yelled. The next door neighbour came out and with the help of a couple of builders who luckily were working down the road, pushed the car up the hill and got my hand out.

TL:DR; get your handbrake checked every year.
(Strump striving for imperfection since, Tue 4 Mar 2014, 21:03, 9 replies)

Got onto a moving staircase behind a woman once.
The damn thing started to make ominous grinding noises and I thought it was going to judder to a halt, but instead it shot off at breakneck speed, causing us to clear two floors in a matter of seconds and unceremoniously spitting us out onto the destination concourse. So much so that the lady in question ended up on her hands and knees and I got a face full of knickers.

As we picked ourselves up and dusted ourselves off in a glow of British embarrassed sexual tension, she said "Well, that escalated quickly."
( .Yeti. El amor en los tiempos del cólera, Sun 2 Mar 2014, 13:27, 12 replies)

Stored Manwich
Had a bunch of stuff in a storage place while the missus and I moved. Our accumulated furniture filled a storage unit - and I do mean filled. There's was perhaps three feet deep of empty space at the top of the unit, but the rest was jammed tighter than a lift at Weightwatchers HQ.

One Sunday I let myself into the now-deserted storage warehouse and took the lift up to the unit, accompanied only by the tinny sounds of Capital FM. I can't recall what it was I had to get, only that it was, inevitably, right at the back of the unit in the Important Stuff box.

The empty corridor stretched away on either side as I swung the doors back and started to ascend the dark mass of my personal junk mountain. As I reached the top of the initial junk-face, I triggered the automatic unit lights, blindingly bright and just a foot from my face.

Reeling slightly from this retinal cacophany, I inched my way forward and down through the pile toward the back of the unit and started. Squeezing my slender frame between the back of an MDF wardrobe and a vertical mattress, what had appeared, to my blinky eyes, to be the floor turned out to be a dark space, full of nothing.

I slipped down a little and the mattress came with me, wedging me tightly up against the back of the wardrobe. Shit. After a couple of minutes' desperate wriggling, my situation was improved immeasurably when, no longer sensing my body heat, the automatic lights went off.

I breathed hard in the pitch darkness, now seriously concerned that I was going to die alone, in the dark, pressed tightly between ratty furniture, and gently drowning to muffled strains of Capital FM's aural diarrhoea.

It was the threat of having to listen to hours of what is surely the nation's worst radio station that did it. Kicking and squirming like the world's greatest treacle diver, I struck out, grabbed a handful of brittle Argos bookshelf and hauled myself back up into the blessed, 100W heaven of the flourescent striplights atop crap mountain.

The adrenaline shakes stopped by the time I got the bus home. The embarrassment lasted longer. The busted shelf still mocks me every time I go to get a book.

Length? I was probably in there for all of seven minutes.
(SimianKid internet faffer, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 14:05, Reply)

Schrodinger's box
I got stuck in a Schrodinger's box for a while.

Where I might have been dead or maybe not or even been both alive and dead simultaneously.

Gonna stay the fuck away from Expedia in the future. Worst holiday ever.
(magic the cat will someone please think of the kittens, Mon 10 Mar 2014, 21:27, 1 reply)

There was this one time when the other kids in my class locked me outside so I went round to the window pushed it up from the outside but my fingers got caught between the two panes of glass.
I was then trapped there for a good few minutes whilst my classmates repeatedly punched me in the stomach through the window.

Yeah, school was fucking shit, thanks for reminding me about that you bunch of cunts
( 2 Can Chunder Word to your mums, I came to prod bums, Sat 1 Mar 2014, 0:58, 1 reply)

Dad's harbourside parking fail
Dad was a sales rep for Wales and the West in various industries (among them needlecraft, kids clothes, fleet cars). Sometimes during school holidays I'd go with him. It was company for both of us on the road, and while he was meeting customers I'd sit in the car and read a book, listen to the radio, and generally watch the world go by.

Once on a visit to North Devon - Barnstaple or Bideford, I can't remember which - Dad pulled up next to the harbourside. It was a public car park with marked spaces, so he wasn't doing anything silly. He was in there a long time, though. Long enough for the tide to come in.

Usually, that would just be picturesque, but neither of us noticed the big thick rope tying off one of the fishing boats in the harbour, which went across the parking space as we'd driven in. I was sat in the car the whole time, and I didn't notice anything move. We did notice when Dad tried to drive away and we found that the drive wheels were lifted a couple of inches above the ground by the now taut rope.

So we had to wait for another five or six hours or so until the tide went out again and we could drive home. Still, I finished my book.
( shinyshinyscalp less a man, more a way of life, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 13:50, Reply)

Problem: Locked out of my house.
Solution: Found that the tiny awning window at the back of the house, leading into the garage, was open a crack, and although it was about 7 foot up I decided I'd try and squeeze through.

Result: Hanging upside down by my trouser belt (caught on the metal window catch), torso inside, legs waving about freely outside, for around 15 minutes until the metal of the buckle sheered in two, dropping me on my bonce.

Result #2: Discovered door between garage and rest of house also locked. Briefly considered the cat flap. Unable to walk anywhere for assistance without trousers falling down.
(eViLegion Chief Commissioner of the Scottish Lunacy Board, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 12:17, 1 reply)

Scaryduck, if this is hilarious joke,
you know, because we are trapped in this question. I would like to point out that it will only be funny, if you don't change the question for at least four weeks.
( The Awful Puppy Bakery is still bored, Mon 10 Mar 2014, 15:47, 9 replies)