Building my own car
A while ago I decided as a hobbie that I wanted to give it a go. I was in need of a hobbie as gaming was getting samely so I started collecting a box of parts and gradually putting bits of car together in sections. Initially setting up the bodywork, the 4 cylinder engine and after alot of confusion with different gear sizes got the gear system setup, I eventually unveiled my creation to the rest of the family.

I was dead impressed. A photo of this and another project I've worked on.

Also a lorry conversion which I'd completed too.

Tbh though neither failed to get faster than 5mph....I couldn't push them faster than that.
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Sat 5 Dec 2009, 13:18, 4 replies)

What seemed like a good idea.
I thought it was about time I redecorated the bedroom, strip the wallpaper, paint it, would be perfect.

When I got to the fireplace, the previous owners had made a half hearted attempt to cover the fireplace up with a piece of hardboard. It wasnt flush to the wall and I couldn't make it look good. So I decided that I'd quite like a little hole in which I would put a vase or something, and that required me taking out hardboard.

Which was followed by taking out chipboard, only to discover this wierd little shelving carcass type construction that was covered in turquiose and purple paisley paper. I'm not having that either, so armed with a hammer, mole grips, crowbar and rage, I started to pull at various bits trying to get it out. Bits of black sooty stuff start falling. Followed by a loud crunching grinding sound, and large chunks of brick falling out the chimney hole.

I finally get the shelving carcass all the way out but there's a problem. The only reason more bricks and stuff aren't coming down throught the hole is because a big lump of what looks like wall is block the hole. The builders are called and come round, poke my hole (!) and have a good laugh at my ineptitude. But everything is fine - I haven't pulled the chimney down.

I gave up shortly after realising my chimney isn't capped, and I don't know how to plaster. I had a go but it looked shite. Now i have to wait till the spring for the builders to come back and fill in my hole, and cap the chimney.

I think I'll pay someone to do my bathroom...
(I'mOffKilter can't be arsed, Sat 5 Dec 2009, 12:47, Reply)

Building project
A couple of years ago, a close friend of mine looked into building his own home to house his growing family. His father had done it, his cousin had done it. He could do it! It was also about half the price of actually buying a pre built home.

Many of our friends are in the construction business and between us, we had the skills to design, build and complete the house, from top to bottom. Architect, ground worker, bricklayer, electrician, roofer(me), carpenter, plasterer, decorator, he knew more than enough people.

He bought a plot of land, pushed the planning permission through, Simon the architect completed the plans for the house, materials were bought. We had a massive party to celebrate the breaking of the ground and the first trench for the foundations being dug.

Unfortunately, his wife became extremely drunk at the party and slept with the neighbour. They never managed to recover from the incident and they separated not long after. He now lives in a caravan on the overgrown building site.
(Unit, Sat 5 Dec 2009, 11:50, 2 replies)

My mum
I hate to say it, but my mum isn't exactly Enid Blyton-like with her morals. Not that she's an out-and-out cider-guzzling, dancing-round-the-handbag old slapper, but... I mean, when my dad died, we were all devastated, he was a good man, everyone looked up to him. But after a while she got it together with my uncle, his own bloody brother. It seemed well odd, especially seeing him living at our place where my dad had lived and done up real nice - it was like he'd always coveted it (that and my mum maybe, who knows how these sibling rivalries things work?).

So I was well pissed off. Then things went well weird - I saw the ghost of my dad (maybe it was a dream, but I don't think so) who said my uncle had had him killed! I had to get my vengeance on the bastard. But I just couldn't do it, and started flipping out and acting mental. Then my bird killed herself. I wasted some old guy, then his son came after me with a big fucking knife. If only I'd got round to it all sooner (or if my mum wasn't a slag).
(McChinaman banned, Sat 5 Dec 2009, 11:37, 6 replies)

Swedish flat pack fail,
With added roasted pea, til I edit my relationship fails in an amusing manner...

I live in a tiny, ten year old house, and I decided that I needed a coffee table, to match my bookcases, hold up drinks and help with the board whilst I thrash my Dad at Christmas Trivial Pursuits. Easy.

I measured the available floor. and cajoled my mate into a trip to our nearest blue and yellow furniture wasteland. The first time either of us had attended without hangovers. Marvellous.

I looked up the unpronounceable name on the tag, and wandered into the warehousy bit at the back, only to find that there was no sign of the table in the size I needed, but there was one in the next size up, only a matter of millimetres. Piece of cake.

We got this enormous fecker home. Into my kitchen, then measured the box, and the available space. Bugger.

It's still there, in it's box five years on, like a brown cardboardy room elephant that everyone looks at and smirks, 'cos they know it was my idea. It finished my Festive season off beautifully, when it fell on me this year. On Boxing day. Nice.
(Beer Elf Thought this was like a campfire, anyhow, on, Sat 5 Dec 2009, 10:27, Reply)

I had a beagle once...

...but it went missing...
(SonoraAeroClub "OH SWEET HELEN OF BALLS!", Sat 5 Dec 2009, 10:22, 1 reply)

Project "Have mum and dad around longer"
Is a project to help encourage my mum and dad on their getting healthy kicks. Both are overweight, mum is diabetic and dad is a heavy smoker and I don't want to lose them before I have to.

So far we have had failures in the form of unused bikes, walking poles, skipping ropes, badminton kits and a small trampoline, or trampette if you will. All were asked for as gifts but sit gathering dust.

The part of the project that has been a success is the swapping of full fat to low fat items in the fridge, the adoption of sugar-free drinks and the discovery that Innocent smoothies when stirred in the freezer they become delicious fruit sorbet treats!
(Mrs Ballunatic counting calories, not votes., Sat 5 Dec 2009, 10:11, 5 replies)

Jumbo 747
Well I could talk about my failed marriage, but nobody wants to hear about that. Instead, how about airplanes? Specifically N747PA, the Clipper Juan T Trippe.

The 747 went into production in the '60s and entered into commercial service in 1970. The second ever built, and first to fly commercially (according to some sources at least) was Clipper Juan T Trippe.

It was in service between LA and Tokyo for over 20 years, and was scrapped in 1999 in San Bernardino, California. At which point it was cut up into smaller pieces and shipped to Namyangju, a small suburb of Seoul in South Korea, where it was reassembled and used as a roadside attraction/restaurant.

All of this I discovered after visiting the resting place of this historic jumbo jet and searching online for the registration number.

I got word of this and asked on a message board if it was still there. One person living in Namyangju said it was, but not to bother because it's abandoned.

Abandoned? Only urban explorers are attracted to things that are abandoned. Oh wait, I'm an urban explorer.

So I got a bunch of friends together and we took a very crowded train for 30 minutes up to Namyangju, where the plane was sitting abandoned at the side of the road.

Have a look here to see what we found inside:
www.darkroastedblend.com/2009/04/abandoned-boeing-747-restaurant.html
(racetraitor has an alibi for, Sat 5 Dec 2009, 8:17, 8 replies)

Homemade Lemonade Factory
I was always an inquisitive kid. I was always interested in how things worked. Also, I had a sweet tooth, to the extent that 50% of my diet was refined sugar - not as bad as kids these days but in the 1980s pretty significant. On one occasion, I took these two attributes and combined them to very spectacular effect.

My mum hadn't been well one day, and it was the middle of the summer holidays, so I played the role of dutiful son and fetched and carried for her (even though I must have only been about 6 - looking back she was a bit of a slave driver!). However at one point she'd managed to get up and make herself a drink.

I witnessed the whole process myself - she filled a glass with water - got something out of The Cupboard That I Was Not Allowed To Go Into - opened the packet, put two tablets in the water and hey presto - LEMONADE was formed.

I'd heard about Jesus turning water into wine but sod that, here's my mum creating fizzy, sweet goodness from the council's own H20.

Because this wonderment came from the The Cupboard That I Was Not Allowed To Go Into, and being a clever little git, I waited until my mum returned to bed so I could perform the miracle myself.

Off she trotted, I left it a good 15 minutes so she'd be settled, and put my plan into action. My little brother was put on lookout duty - I think I promised him a Wham! bar or something - and I readied myself for miracle ahead.

Go myself a cup, filled it with water, opened The Cupboard That I Was Not Allowed To Go Into and got the red packet. Neglected to notice that the packet was clearly emblazoned with the words 'Soluble Co-codamol' - dropped two into the water and watched the miracle occur.

The first batch tasted off, so I had another go. Which wasn't right either - however I was getting used to the taste so had another go, just to make sure.

It was at that point that my mum, hearing what was going on downstairs screamed 'what the bloody hell are you doing???'. To which I replied

'Making magic lemonade, mummy.'

The next time I saw the magic lemonade was as I was having my stomach being pumped in the Children's Hospital in Sheffield.

I guess it was that first experience with fizzy liquids that give you a headache and make you want to vom that led me to enjoy booze so much. And every time I'm on the great white telephone to God, the 'magic lemonade' miracle comes flooding back to me...
(scentless_apprentice takes two bottles into the shower!, Sat 5 Dec 2009, 7:37, 2 replies)

I had this idea
for a new kind of market. Unlike a lot of people here, I actually got it done. Unfortunately it wasn't as good an idea as I thought. My friend Charlie actually warned me and I didn't listen (although he had his own idea, which was probably worse). It went really badly, and to top it off some of the people responsible for its failure stole a lot of money from the punters.

Yours,
Adam Smith.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sat 5 Dec 2009, 5:16, Reply)

How I failed at being a good fiance.
After a lifetime of being a gangly, rake-like social leper, I met a sexy, funny, charismatic girl on a night out and we hit it off. One year on, we got engaged and rented a house together. She had a white-collar job in the city centre, I worked in a screen-printing workshop. It started well enough, but domestic friction increased over time - initially, I just put it down to over-familiarity and didn't take it too seriously, but I found out her rather well-off boss was frequently knobbing her behind my back. Although I saw red at the time, I didn't act immediately - instead, I gathered as much information as I could, then casually confronted her, presenting a full hand of cards when she denied the affair and laid down the law in what I thought was a firm but rational manner.

Two days later when I was back at work, some policemen came in. "Ayup, someone's in trouble!" I thought. Five minutes later, the cold hand of officialdom on my shoulder sent me into a panic. To cut a long story short, she'd acquired nasty bruises on her face and a black eye, so they arrested me on suspicion of domestic violence and put me up in a cell while the investigation took place. Quickly enough, they found out she was full of shit; not only did they find I was at my bench when the incident took place (as proved by my clock card and multiple witnesses), my DNA was not present in the injury either. The police were admirably impartial and professional throughout - however, the same cannot be said for my colleagues and the social workers. In their eyes, I was a horrendous wife-beater and was regarded as an inhuman monster. Shortly afterwards I got fired, allegedly because of "improfessional conduct" (the exact nature of which was not at all clear, despite my repeated queries) and refused to provide a reference for any subsequent jobs I applied for, thus nixing any possible future in the industry, rendering four years' experience useless and forcing me to start again from scratch as if I were a spotty work-shy school leaver. As if that wasn't enough, my delightful fiancee flew the nest and moved in with her god-like new man, leaving me in severe financial shite that I'm still trying to pay off several years on.

After that experience, you'll understand I'm now more than a little wary of relationships.
(WANKERTRON you say "prick", I say "wanker", Sat 5 Dec 2009, 1:16, 3 replies)

Plenty here
As I am a 16 year old male alot gets planned but never quite finished, for example;
-Machinima series I'm working on with a mate
-Robot suit made of cardboard, built with said mate
-Making films with said mate
-Getting a few more mates
-Getting a job
-Entering another image challenge
-Writing stories and poems

All are interrupted by aforementioned mate's lazyness or A-Levels, although I suspect the last 3 are just sheer lazyness on my part.
(TMAce needs to enter another image challenge sometime, Sat 5 Dec 2009, 0:35, 2 replies)

My career
I work as a project manager for a major bank (now partial government department) based in yorkshire and recently bought up by a southern type competitor. Everything i do can be classed as a failed project, although sadly any details would see me out on my arse faster than you can say "i'm paying a bonus damn it!" :(
( Rhubarb_Triangle, Fri 4 Dec 2009, 23:47, Reply)

Cockroaches
When I lived in Tucson, Arizona, I had trouble with cockroaches. Sometimes, when I was trying to sleep on hot summer nights, the cockroaches would get on the bed and crawl across my bare belly. I would quickly awaken, grab the bugs, throw them hard, and in the dark I could hear the chitinous crack as they went splat against the wall. I quickly grew tired of this.

One day, I discovered cockroaches drown easily in soapy water. So, I created little meat shishkebabs, with unwound wire clothes hangers as spears and spam as bait. At sunset, I suspended the meat over little pots of soapy water all through the apartment and waited for revenge.

I guess the cockroaches were too lazy to try and reach the spam, or maybe too smart, because they never fell into these diabolical traps. Instead, I now had an apartment full of booby traps. I accidentally kicked over the pots of soapy water in the darkness and created a slippery tripping hazard for myself.

In time, I moved to Phoenix, Arizona, where it was even hotter in the summer, and where even more cockroaches would wait in the (relatively cooler) lawn outside until sunset, when they would charge the house en masse. I created a perimeter of inch-deep berms of powdered boric acid outside the house to impede their progress, but the cockroaches formed battering-ram brigades to penetrate the berms and create open pathways to the house.

So, I live in California now.
(Perv With A Dog had his eyes pecked out by scrub jays on, Fri 4 Dec 2009, 23:00, 4 replies)

The Garden
Growing up in a rural community a VEGE GARDEN was what proper people have.

In various flats over the years I have dug the turf and disturbed the worms before being distracted by VERY IMPORTANT PROJECTS.

I'm all grown up now and have my own house. Over the last 6 years I periodically disturb the weeds in a frenzy of PREPARING THE SOIL. Alas the weeds are more tenacious than I...

Having recently been made redundant (not a failure, more a relief) I have decided that as a house owning, 40 something I should whip this garden into place.

Things I have learnt
* Digging in hign summer is Hot Thirsty Work
* Beer is quenching during Hot Thirsty Work
* Beer consumption and output of Hot Thirsty Work are inversely proportionate.
* I like beer better than Hot Thirsty Work
* There is always tomorrow

Because the garden is riddled with a pervasive creeping weed, in my (pre beer) wisdom I decided to dig and sieve to get rid of the roots of said pervasive creeping weed. Sieving is Hot Thirsty Work. See above work plan.

I have thus far dug a fucking massive hole. If oil starts to bubble from the ground I shall not be surprised. Post beer I comtemplate loading the old truck and Allie May and moving to Beverly Hills. Alas thus far I have only struck old chicken bones.

If it were the height of the cold war I could tell the meighbours that this is the start of my fall out shelter. Obviously I am a man after my time...

Therefore the failure is not mine but my parents for having me too late.

Also I blame creation. Why do weeds grow so well but potatoes and carrots require planting and nuturing?
Furtermore why do Breweries produce cheap, quenching, tasty beverages which are easily availible at my supermarket?

Damn you garden for taunting me and sprouting fresh (non edible) growth after a couple of days of rain.

Maybe next year
(schrodingers cat now you see me, or not, Fri 4 Dec 2009, 22:40, 6 replies)

not my project but one from last weeks newsletter
i am sure rob does this to get us ready for a fail on friday

quote "WHEN WAS THE NEWSLETTER PUBLISHED"

total fail now the pubs open and its weekend
(collector, Fri 4 Dec 2009, 18:21, Reply)

not-so-superfood
being a lazy bitch, i decided one day to cut cooking times and create an entire meal in 3 minutes. the meal itself was to be a combination of chicken soup, mashed potatoes and roast chicken.
in one pan, i emptied a tin of chicken soup, then added 2 pre-cooked chicken drumsticks to heat as the soup cooked at full whack. two and a half minutes later, the soup was bubbling and the chicken was heated through. time for the mashed potatoes.
i tipped half a packet of instant mash into the soup and stirred vigorously, reasoning that, if hot water could be used for making mash, surely hot soup would work just as well. i was wrong. very, very wrong.
what i got was a gloopy, disgusting, chickeny mess that was completely inedible for anyone who hadn't lived in a doorway for the last 3 years. however, as i'd gone to the trouble to create this frankinstein's monster of a meal, i decided that i should at least taste it.
when i had finished vomiting, i threw the entire concoction into the bin, my one-pan meal idea an utter failure.

six months later, i discovered that blue mashed potato tastes just the same as the normal-coloured stuff.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Fri 4 Dec 2009, 18:11, 1 reply)

A Tale of Two Jaaaaaaaags (/Clarkson)
I like cars and I like fixing things. The day job is namby-pamby fixing things with a keyboard but I really prefer fixing things with hammers and spanners.
eBay fever grabs me one day and I accidentally buy a 16 year old Jaguar XJ6. Its under a grand and I reason that if anything goes wrong I'll enjoy fixing it. I've got another car so its not the end of the world if it breaks down.

About one month into my Jaguar ownership there is an incident and it ends up slightly bent at the front with a broken radiator. Although saddened by the deformed shape of the classic motor I vow to repair it and set about removing the bent bits for replacement or repair. Great fun.
Then, as luck would have it an identical car appears on eBay for a few hundred pounds. Same colour and everything.
I buy the identical Jag intending to use it for parts then sell or scrap the left over bits. I am known as Two-Jags at pub.
Of course I now have an unbent working Jag which I drive around for 18 months whilst the original broken Jag lays in bits in the car park , sad, neglected, and annoying the neighbours.

But its not Project Failed, its Project Renewed as the second Jag failed its MOT recently meaning I now have two broken Jags and a new Project to build one working Jag!

I'm sure the new project will soon get underway, and be a great success and be finished by Christmas.

Oh No it won't!
OH YES IT WILL!
Oh No it won't!
OH YES IT WILL!
Oh No it won't!
OH YES IT WILL!
(Rich T has a clever and witty sig, Fri 4 Dec 2009, 17:33, 3 replies)

Time to stop failing
Probably not that funny so skip it if you can't face the self confession that follows of how starting tomorrow I hope to turn my life around.

Quick background. 18 months ago after 9 years with the ex, 1 year of marriage and 2 years of parenthood she decided the day after her graduation and would potentially have a decent income of her own would be the best time to split us up. After the shock of it all the realisation came I'd put all my free time & effort into supporting her and effectively had no friends, no hobbies and no money.

So since then I've been living in my parents spare room. Spending as much time with my daughter as possible. This was clearly a massively important thing to my daughter who found her mum fancied a 6 week holiday to Australia last Christmas without her, several other holidays along the way, numerous nights out living the single life.

Like a thorn in my side I've watched the ex live like this while I paid solicitors bills to divorce her, with the routine threats from her to make my life hell anytime a decision wasn't in her favour. For 18 months I've plodded along in a daze, not really having much fun, had a battle with depression that I concealed from all but my Doctor. My work life went to crap and I know I've let my boss down by not getting anywhere with my work for too long. All the time gradually getting myself straight.

The son of a bank manager I should have been in a better place financially, apparantly my being too tight with money was another reason we split up, yet I came away in debt from supporting a lifestyle we couldn't afford as I was the only one of us with a salary.

Essentially I failed at life for too many years.

Over a year of scrimping and saving I paid off the debts I was left with. Beyond that I managed to save up a modest lump sum and told my parents I wanted to move on and move out to my own place. I cannot put into words the gratitude I have for my parents helping me make this happen with a generous loan.

Tomorrow I move into a home of my own for the first time in 10 years. I've worked hard to get this far. All my furniture is second hand but it's chosen by me because I like it, and best of all there is a bedroom for my daughter (in trying to agree over money I had trapped in the marital home she said I only needed a 1 bed flat at most).

My daughter and I have become so close and even though she's only 3 she's quite insightful. I don't know what to say when she tells me "she knows Mummy loves her but she doesn't love mummy and wants to live with me". I know nothing will happen for a while but I suspect the day will come when she's old enough she will decide to live with me instead. Until then I'm there whenever she needs me and the times she doesn't.

Starting tomorrow I'm going to try to put it all right.
Work hard. Look after MY home. Be the best Dad I can. Never live beyond my own means.

For the first time in a very long time I'm full of hope and every day I look forward to tomorrow. This time I will not fail.


Sorry for the lack of anecdote etc, just needed to put it into words really to see how far I've come.
(golddust QOTW now revolves around being a cunt, Fri 4 Dec 2009, 17:26, 13 replies)

When I was 17
As a truly crap experiment, I wanted to see if cold water would have the same effect on dry pasta as boiling water did. So I got some spaghetti strands, broke them up and put them in a small food-bag (the sort you put your packed lunch into), added a quantity of cold water, tied the bag up and stuck it in a drawer.

It was a drawer that wan't used very much and so I promptly forgot about it. A few months later, I was looking for a pen and opened that drawer. It smelt a bit funny, so I closed it again.

Fast forward another few months and I got in from college one afternoon. My mum informed me that she'd tidied my room. Ok thought I. But then she added, "and could you kindly not keep bags of sick in your drawer"
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Fri 4 Dec 2009, 17:11, 4 replies)

A success project!
I know this QOTW is for fails. But I think we do deserve the odd success story or two!

Anyway this is certinately one! Entitled: How a shy IT geek with no mates from the North of England successfully buggered off to Spain for a new life!

But I did it! Back in January 2007, I took a few days out to a well known Costa in Spain not knowing that in 4 months time i'd actually be living there!

I've always had the buzz to move abroad I think. I wanted to move to the states many years ago, but then 9/11 happened and things got all messy and stupidly complicated with visas and stuff. I really didnt want to be somewhere trying to build a new life knowing I was only on temporary visas and stuff. So the U.S soon lost its appeal.

But how awesome is Europe? And how awesome is our british passport? Allowing us limitless travel and stay in anywhere in Europe.
I had a bit of a messy break up from a serious relationship. My friends had all gone to Uni and never came back. I also ended up being in a car crash too writing off my car. So decided sod it! I'm going to do what I've always wanted to!

Taking a huge risk, I put my notice in as IT Manager which was a really good paid job and I gave up my rented apartment. A month later I took a one way flight back out to Spain.

I had a hotel booked for a week and a car hired and a couple of grand in the back pocket. That was it. I knew no one, had no work, didnt know the place and didnt know the language or anything. I just took the chance!

I got my CV out and about. Drove up and down learning the coast and put myself out there. I participated on loads of forums for expats and started meeting people. Despite at this point being prepared to work in Maccy Dees, I got a job as an IT Technician 2 weeks after landing!
It was long hours and low paid. But there I met the best team of people I ever could have done who have since become life long friends. Although that job finished 9 months later with the company going bust, we've all kept in touch, and I was straight back on my feet again and landed another job as a technician for a well estalished firm. I have now been there 18 months. I've been promoted up to Senior and life is just damned well amazing!

I have a great bunch of friends. Live in an amazing town in Spain. I've overcome so many personal barriers with once being a socialphobe, and my confidence is through the roof. I took on a project, and a challenge to turn life around and succeeded in doing it.

Even now I drive down the road, under the sun, with the sea to my right and think.. Woah I did it! Finances are good, work is solid, and I am very very fortunate. The economic crises has had a huge impact on people here. So many are having to return to the UK. Whereas I have managed to stay, and I certinately have no reason to leave.

It wasnt easy, but with the experience I've gained on this venture, If I did feel like leaving.. it would simply be a question as to where to next!

I've never been so happy! Just need to find someone to marry now!
(Miggyman, Fri 4 Dec 2009, 17:08, 14 replies)

Too many to list
but I'll have a go:

The Bicycle I was going to build for myself from the frame up, got it all built, even rode it 10 miles or so then took it off the road to sort out a few niggles with the gears & brakes, should have been a half hour job. 3 months later, I have started taking bits off it to put on another bike I bought on Gumtree for £20

The Theremin kit I was so happy to get for Christmas 3 years ago, loved the idea, really enjoyed all the soldering etc, got it 95% done and it sit's at the back of a cupboard to this day, can't find the will to spend half an our to finish it even though I still want a Theremin.

The novel I was going to write, been stalled at half a chapter for the last 5 years.

The Tattoo wanted at 21, thought I'd just wait a while to be sure. I'm now 34.

The Leather jacket I really loved with the torn lining. Cut out the old lining, cannibalised an old shirt to make a replacement, made new pockets from some old fabric.... and left it in a cupboard for 2 years and counting

All these I regret, but they are small potatoes next to the all time biggie: Project Grow The Fuck Up.

A little background:
I met this girl in my late 20's, we got pretty close pretty quick, which was good, because one and a half months in, she told me she was pregnant, I was a bit gobsmacked at first but soon got into the idea and stated looking forward to being a dad. The pregnancy, wasn't easy, nor was the relationship, we both had our issues but somehow we got through it together.

My son was born, the best moment of my life and the one thing I can never regret.

Things were OK for a while but the relationship, by now a marriage, was going south fast, too many problems all round, no communication, too many differences in basic outlook, blah, blah blah.

This is when I came up with Project Grown the Fuck Up. I cut my hair off (previously uncut since I was 16) chucked out a lot of my grungy/metal clothes, and bought new respectable ones. I ditched the nickname everyone had called me by for the last 10 years and started going by my given name (which I never liked much) again. I even gave up on some of my oldest friends who I thought were not good for me. I also started taking Prozac to calm my mood swings in an attempt to level off my personality and make myself a bit less depressed/emotional

Basically I turned my self into a much more "respectable" "grownup" person, I decided that if I could just keep this up all would be fine and dandy and I could be a good father to my son and a good husband to my wife. After all everybody has to grown up some time, don't they?



Two years later...... The divorce Papers are going through and I get to see my boy on alternate weekends. It's not great, but at least the time we have I can concentrate on him and be the best father I can. I've recovered some of my old clothes from the loft, reconnected with the friends that were worth something, and got a nice spiffy red Mohawk. Life is not perfect but I'm finally off the happy pills, I'm feeling OK with myself for the first time I can remember since I was 10 and I have a wonderful new woman in my life who accepts me as I am and seems to love me anyway.

The moral of this story: it may hurt to give up on something you've put so much of your self into (6 years in this case) but some times it's the best thing to do.

Apologies for length/lack of knob gag.

Also, first time, be gentle.
( CQ Knows the truth, all of it., Fri 4 Dec 2009, 16:07, 5 replies)

Cider
The stuff of tramps and chavs.
Well As I have an apple tree in my garden I thought I'd make some cider.
Thought "fuck pressing them" so juiced the lot (in the process burning out the juicer). Result two gallons of apple juice. Added sugar and waited.
1 year later I tried it as well as inflicting it on friends.
Decided it would probably kill you if you had more than one mouthfull and would best be used as battery acid. Haven't tried since.
(Captain Spacker I lick windows, Fri 4 Dec 2009, 15:09, 6 replies)

Inline skates
Years ago, I was bored and needed something new to do. I know! Go to Manchester, buy a pair of inline skates (having to go avoid lots of little brats) and skate around everywhere for fitness!

Used them a few times, on the local street, stuck them in a drawer.

Moved house near the countryside. I would therefore practice using my skates to skate around everywhere, up and down the hills and at some point be hardcore and skate around Norway!

Skating on flat smooth concrete/tarmac is quite easy and good fun. Skating on uneven roads with with crappy tarmac appears not to be possible. Braking on anything other than smooth tarmac is also tricky

It may be that either my skates or my technique is crap, but I reckon they're just not very good on a crappy country road.

Mountain biking and kayaking are a bit easier to handle. I should probably get rid of the skates as the chance of using them is pretty low.
(syllopsium, Fri 4 Dec 2009, 15:02, 8 replies)

See, this doesn't apply to me
I'd say my best qualities are my tenacity, concentration and dedication to finishing everyth...


Oooh, look! A bee!
(Rakky (forgot her password) The muffin maverick, Fri 4 Dec 2009, 14:50, 1 reply)

Spencer
Got a mate named Spencer (once you get past the twatty name he’s actually a pretty decent fella; just hoping and praying his new flatmate’s named Mark, this would lead to literally minutes of amusement). Anyway, Spencer’s a bit of a dick at the best of times. He seems to spend all his time smoking weed, dreaming up get rich quick schemes, and generally arsing about.

A while back he gave me a call while I was at work. Went like this:

Spencer:”Come up with the best plan ever to get rich!”
Me:”And what would that be, Spence, my man?”
Spencer:”Time travel.”
Me:”Time travel?”
Spencer:”Yeah, time travel.”
- very long pause -
Me:”So are you going to tell me about this invention of yours, Spence?”
Spencer:”This is the genius part, mate. Fuckin’ genius part! I aven’t invented it yet!”
Me:”………………………. ?”
Spencer:”But I’ve decided when I do invent it I’m gonna get me to travel back in time and give it to me so I can have it now and not have to do any work on it! Fuckin’ genius!”
- CLICK !!! -

Like I said, Spencer smokes a lot of weed…
( SpankyHanky, Fri 4 Dec 2009, 14:34, 12 replies)

Relocation Blues
Many moons ago I was involved with the relocation of a well known banks data centre, this bank was so cheap (cost concious they said)that it would involve the removal of some 70 odd servers to a new location,

We planned for weeks as to how we would acheive this while our bosses tried to persuade the bank that it would be far more cost effective to set up a new data centre from scratch, and copy existing data from the old centre to the new one.
They insisted that the servers were only 5 years old and still had a lot of life left in them, after all they said they were paying the bills and we had better do as we were told.

Come the big day we have a team of techies standing by Friday 21:00 data centre shuts down after all backups complete, servers are powered down techies move in all this has to be out and at the new location by 09:00 Sunday.
We work through Friday night till lunchtime Saturday catch a few hours sleep, back on the job 18:00 Saturday check nothing is left behind we have a truck full of servers racking and about 300km of cabling we all stagger home while truck goes to new location.

05:00 Sunday morning leave home to drive to new location arrive at about 07:30, every one has assembled by this time my boss marches up to the building and proudly announces that we've come to set up new data centre, security guy say no you haven't they haven't taken possesion of the building yet in fact it was doubtful whether they would.

Turns out that some twat in the banks legal dept still had the lease agreement sitting on his desk unsigned, result we all went home never heard another thing
(raith50, Fri 4 Dec 2009, 14:14, 1 reply)

The man down the corner shop
Watching The Family recently on Channel 4 has reminded me of Mo. He is very much the archetypal oddball foreigner and consistently manages to associate himself with the worst kind of comically bad ideas.

Our local corner shop, before he took over, used to sell the usual - newspapers, chocolate and fags to 14-year old schoolkids. Now it seems to be jam-packed full of souvenirs, china and other over-priced bric-a-brac. Apparently, this is what all corner shops sell where he comes from. I've never seen him make a single sale.

That's not the least of it, though. Mo's comic attempts to be a middle-class businessman are routinely hilarious. He has a terrible, gruff middle-eastern accent like the chap out of Indiana Jones, and hearing him croak out: "Good afternoon, sah! How delighted I am to see you" is worthy of the price of 20 Lambert & Butler alone. He attends Rotary Club functions and the local bridge club in an attempt to be more British. I can't work out whether it's an ingratiating attempt to be local or some sort of bizarre inverse racism.

Mo's most notorious lunacy is as a conspiracy theorist. He's convinced the whole world is out to get him, that there are aliens at Roswell and that the Royal Family are a gigantic puppet of the capitalist west. That last bit might be possibly true. His son was tragically killed in a car crash a few years ago; rather than mourning him, he spent ages in the attic trying to prove that the Secret Services did it.

His latest bout of nuttiness was taking over the local football team. Well, in fairness to him, he did manage to push them up to the top of the local league pyramid, but going around proclaiming them as the next Manchester United just sent the regulars at the golf club bar into hysterics.

I suppose it was just the latest in a long series of Fayed Projects.
( ousgg is not seeking approval, Fri 4 Dec 2009, 13:54, 5 replies)

Growing up in quite a political family
I once had aspirations to form a new political party based on respect and decency for all. A party that would rejoice in our differences, challenge any form of oppression, deliver a new mandate to the people that would deliver economic stability and social justice for all. The days of boom and bust would be relegated to the annals of history. My new party would, by popular consent, abolish racism, sexism, ageism, and any other isms that dared get in the way… I would be the leader. Britain would be GREAT again…

…

But then I discovered wanking...
( SpankyHanky, Fri 4 Dec 2009, 13:46, 9 replies)