The Worst Journey in the World
Aspley Cherry Garrard was the youngest member of the Scott Polar Expedition when he and two others lost their tent to the winds of a night-time snowstorm. They spent hours in temperatures below -70°F stumbling about the ice floes hoping they'd bump into it as it was their only hope of survival.
OK, so that was bad, but we reckon you've had worse. We know how hard you lot are.
( , Thu 7 Sep 2006, 12:40)
Aspley Cherry Garrard was the youngest member of the Scott Polar Expedition when he and two others lost their tent to the winds of a night-time snowstorm. They spent hours in temperatures below -70°F stumbling about the ice floes hoping they'd bump into it as it was their only hope of survival.
OK, so that was bad, but we reckon you've had worse. We know how hard you lot are.
( , Thu 7 Sep 2006, 12:40)
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Long coach journeys
On the way back from a week long pissup in Barcelona, under the guise of a sports tour.
I had been out drinking heavily the night before (as all students do) and had gone home with a comely young wench. Woke up late, made a mad dash back to my room threw everything in a bag and jumped on the ready to depart coach.
Already it had been 12 hours since the last shower, plus i had the unmistakable smell of 'lady' wafting about me.
Cue 28 hours of coach, smelling of unwashed socks and the kind of shits that only a week of cheap spanish beer can give. Eep!
What made it even more unpleasent was the Portsmouth Uni football team at the back of the coach smelling like they hadn't showered all week. Even worse than that was waking up in the night to see my mate being given a handjob by a rugby lass. Pass the mind bleach!
( , Thu 7 Sep 2006, 13:32, Reply)
On the way back from a week long pissup in Barcelona, under the guise of a sports tour.
I had been out drinking heavily the night before (as all students do) and had gone home with a comely young wench. Woke up late, made a mad dash back to my room threw everything in a bag and jumped on the ready to depart coach.
Already it had been 12 hours since the last shower, plus i had the unmistakable smell of 'lady' wafting about me.
Cue 28 hours of coach, smelling of unwashed socks and the kind of shits that only a week of cheap spanish beer can give. Eep!
What made it even more unpleasent was the Portsmouth Uni football team at the back of the coach smelling like they hadn't showered all week. Even worse than that was waking up in the night to see my mate being given a handjob by a rugby lass. Pass the mind bleach!
( , Thu 7 Sep 2006, 13:32, Reply)
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