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This is a question My most treasured possession

What's your most treasured possession? What would you rescue from a fire (be it for sentimental or purely financial reasons)?

My Great-Uncle left me his visitors book which along with boring people like the Queen and Harold Wilson has Spike Milligan's signature in it. It's all loopy.

Either that or my Grandfather's swords.

(, Thu 8 May 2008, 12:38)
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This question is now closed.

Stinky Salvation
I went trekking in the Guatamalan rainforest during my gap-year. All I took with me was my wallett, passport, a swiss-army-knife and a few pictures of Fern Britton posing nude.

It may be thought that I was a little ill-prepared. This was, however, not the case at all. Secreted in the waistband of my underpants, was my last resort. My one wild-card, to be used only if I became stuck in a life or death situation. A phone number. Now, this number wasn't for my mum, it wasn't for the British Embassy, it wasn't even for the local police. The number was for the emergency service that the emergency services call when they're totally fucked.

G.R.A.-S.S. - The Geordie Retrieval Allies - Smokin' Squadron.
These lads are very secretive. Known to only a handful of people across the globe, they are able to do things and go places that no other humans can achieve. I was fortunate to be considered a 'friend-of-a-friend'.

My shit storm started when I angered some tribal natives by seducing their villages most prized virgin. Minjee Chowdown, she was called. She had a sweet arse and a cracking pair of tits (although floppy from the typical bra-less state of tribal ladies). I didn't really suss their lingo, but i got the impression that their witch doctor was going to use every trick up his sleeve to separate me from my testicles. I ran through the jungle for 3 days until I found a road, then another 8 hours until I got to a phone. I pleasured a smelly gashed shopkeeper for a few coins and made my call to 'G.R.A.-S.S.'

I could taste the relief (among the aftertaste of smelly gash) when I was informed that Howway Hinny was in my area on a surveillance job and would pick me up that same day. The wait was tense, especially toward the end when Howway was approaching from one end of the street and the angry tribe advanced from the other while performing some sort of ritual.

When only 50 yards or so separated the two deadly forces, a native catapulted something toward Howway. It left a trail of strange wispy green vapour as it streaked toward its target. Howway didn't even flinch as the object hit and spattered across his torso. I did more than flinch as the weapons effect revealed itself. Howway stunk like a pair of curtains dipped into stagnant pondwater weekly and hung to dry in a YMCA bathroom in between dunkings.

Howway gave a few of those local lads a slap, gave me a telling-off, and seen me safely to the airport. The only payment or thanks he would accept for his life-saving heroic stink-shield actions were the naked piccies of Fern Britton.

I gladly surrendered them to my MUSTY RESCUERS' POSSESSION.
(, Thu 15 May 2008, 15:08, Reply)
I'm so bored that I've been trying to re-open an old belly button peircing with my letter opener.

Please change the qotw before I do some real damage.
(, Thu 15 May 2008, 15:07, 10 replies)
Here is a tale of infidelity, Victorian authors and culinary disasters; My missus is German and an accomplished cook. She also occasionally forgets the English word for things and so reverts to the German. When I was younger, I was ruthlessly unfaithful to her and either she didn't know or care or she has chosen to forgive me but she has never chastised me for it. I havent done it in ages which is why I have the following treasured possession of those bygone naughty days. I would insensitively talk to my mistress of my missuses culinary prowess and it became a bone of contention with her so one day I urged her to cook me something the equal of my missuses and bring it to one of our dangerous liaisons. She took the challenge and asked me what I would like. I told her my favourite author was Edgar Allen Poe and I was very fond of a little treat the missus made which she had discovered whilst reading 'The Murders In The Rue Morgue' where a page had been marked by a recipe from a magazine. I gave my mistress the recipe and encouraged her to present it to me at our next meeting. She did and it was vile, not that I told her that but when my missus makes them to this day they still bring me a frisson of those bygone days when I was younger, hornier and given to subduing women to my whims;

ah yes, I am very fond of her 'Mistress-urged Poe's essen'
(, Thu 15 May 2008, 15:00, 1 reply)
This QoTW is becoming a treasured possession. It's been in my life for so long now that I can't really remember a time when it wasn't there. I just don't know what I'd do without it.

But I'm willing to find out.
(, Thu 15 May 2008, 14:41, 14 replies)
My most treasured possesion
I once spent a week at my grandparent's house. I forced my grandad to spend all week pretending to be a pirate with me. He even built me a wooden scimitar from a branch of an old oak tree.

It's my most tree-sword possession.
(, Thu 15 May 2008, 14:23, Reply)
Weird collections
A very good friend of mine, a chap by the name of John is somewhat eccentric and likes to collect obscure memorabilia and bric-a-brac.

A few months ago, he decided to show me his collection of Victorian chamber pots, some of which were very ornate and expensive antiques.

He ushered me over to his cabinet and carefully pulled out a large porcelain pot, lovingly painted with a hunting motif. It had been an heirloom belonging to an aristocratic family and was reputed to have been used by none other than Prince Albert himself.

"It's my most treasured Po" said John.
(, Thu 15 May 2008, 14:17, 6 replies)
When I was in scouts
Many years ago. I found myself 'caught short' whilst orienteering.

There were fields for miles and it was all so open, so I just kept on moving.

Eventually I came across a small wooded area, a grove if you like.

The relief I felt was amazing squatting next to that tree whilst I curled one out.

It was My Most Tree Assured Pooh Session I've ever had.

Way Hey
(, Thu 15 May 2008, 14:07, Reply)
And another...
My next-door neighbour built a giant bedside toilet outside my front door. This made me so angry that I was possessed with rage. With my bare fists, I pummelled the offending latrine to the ground while he stood back and watched helplessly. That was my "must raze your po" session.

Edit: Yay! Hat-trick!
(, Thu 15 May 2008, 13:55, Reply)
During an orgy
I accidentally turned on the TV which was showing a documentary about Mrs. Thatcher. This put me off my stroke and I instantly lost wood. That was my most razed super session.
(, Thu 15 May 2008, 13:51, Reply)
A pun entirely in English this time.
You know that Austrian guy who locked his kids up in the cellar? Now that they've been exposed to sunlight, they act strangely. Most rays sure possess 'em.
(, Thu 15 May 2008, 13:39, Reply)
Whilst in France i purchased an expensive fish...
It was my most.....

tres cher poisson!

(, Thu 15 May 2008, 13:38, 1 reply)
On the island of Java
I missed the train but instead, found a load of unused dinner-trays and slid along the downhill Javanese train-tracks. Due to friction, they wore out quickly so I had to keep replacing the trays. That was my most trays sepur session.
(, Thu 15 May 2008, 13:24, Reply)
I'm thinking of burning down this QOTW
and I hope no-one rescues it from the fire.

I also might stop by the M1 on my way home: news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/northamptonshire/7402291.stm
(, Thu 15 May 2008, 13:05, 5 replies)
ah fuck it
is anal sex a pleasured poo session?
(, Thu 15 May 2008, 13:04, 4 replies)
went to boots today
for a facial peel, and while I was there picked up some of those new-fangled and popular TRESemme hair products and a deodorant.

Was a Tre&Sure pore session

(thats about it, im shit punned out)
(, Thu 15 May 2008, 13:01, Reply)
I met someone in the pub last weekend - you know one of these chinese people who offer crappy dodgy deals. Well anyway, I think his name was Po Se Shun. So after showing me flyers about what he offers I agreed to meet him in the woods to thrash out a deal.

Come monday morning I went to the woods where the transaction was to take place. 100 this bastard cost me. What was I buying? Why, a german prostitute/sex-slave thats what.

Now you may know that the feds are cracking down on people-laundering and of course sex slaves have a bad rep now with recent happenings in Austria (not far from Germany!) so unfortunately this illegal deal was captured by a surveillance microphone set up in one of the old Oaks.

You could say this is an incident where Trees-heard possess-hun.

(Oh dear god)
(, Thu 15 May 2008, 12:54, 5 replies)
My parents' house is badly-built
Some of the ornaments have a tendency to slide across the mantlepiece and are in danger of falling off and breaking.

However, it's possible to increase the friction and keep them in place by standing said baubles on serving platters.

Thus they come to occupy a tray-shored position.

EDIT: Hat-trick! Yay!
(, Thu 15 May 2008, 12:38, 3 replies)
I got a job at Comedy Central
The best job I ever had was when I was a producer for South Park. I used to see the guys behind the show, Trey Parker and Matt Stone, every day for meetings. Stone, for one, didn't really like me, and was trying to engineer my dismissal. However, I got on well with Parker, who gave me his personal word that he was going to make sure I could stay in the job for as long as I wanted it.

It was a Trey-assured position.
(, Thu 15 May 2008, 12:21, 10 replies)
The house across the road is up for sale or lease. This is because it was - apparently - uninsured, and when a tree in the garden fell down and took a gable end with it, the family could only afford to make the repairs by skimping on their mortgage. The bank didn't like this, and instigated legal procedures to take ownership of the property.

It's a tree-sheared repossession.
(, Thu 15 May 2008, 12:11, Reply)

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