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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A star on Virgin
Travelling up from Exeter to Bristol on an over-priced crowded train. It was Friday, they'd removed a couple of carriages, standing room only in rush hour and there was a particularly mixed bag of commuters, students, holiday makers and crucially- a load of chaps who'd obviously been working down south for a week and were back off home up north.
These last were happily and raucously starting the weekend early. And for one workman in particular, it clamaxed a bit too soon.
Muffled singing got louder as the toilet door crashed open, and one of the workmen staggered out. Trousers and pants around his ankles, fag in one hand, can of cider in the other, singing lustily. He span round once, 360 degrees, and collapsed comatose in the space created by the speedily retreating suits and students.
He stayed where he was, lying across the train door, for the remainder of the journey. Not the best of journeys for him I'll wager. Pretty good for me though!*
*edit. not because there was a view of a drunken northeners cock. Oh no. Just because it was funny. Though since I met Mr Clapper, the former has been a fairly regular viewing pleasure :)
P.S: Virgin Rail? Corrupt disease-raddled whore Rail more like. A government-capitalist fuck-fest designed to get people out of the trains by making them as awful and expensive as possible (as they can't be arsed to fund them) and out on the roads, where they can be taxed heavily. And contribute to climate change. Rant rant rant.
( , Fri 8 Sep 2006, 10:59, Reply)
Travelling up from Exeter to Bristol on an over-priced crowded train. It was Friday, they'd removed a couple of carriages, standing room only in rush hour and there was a particularly mixed bag of commuters, students, holiday makers and crucially- a load of chaps who'd obviously been working down south for a week and were back off home up north.
These last were happily and raucously starting the weekend early. And for one workman in particular, it clamaxed a bit too soon.
Muffled singing got louder as the toilet door crashed open, and one of the workmen staggered out. Trousers and pants around his ankles, fag in one hand, can of cider in the other, singing lustily. He span round once, 360 degrees, and collapsed comatose in the space created by the speedily retreating suits and students.
He stayed where he was, lying across the train door, for the remainder of the journey. Not the best of journeys for him I'll wager. Pretty good for me though!*
*edit. not because there was a view of a drunken northeners cock. Oh no. Just because it was funny. Though since I met Mr Clapper, the former has been a fairly regular viewing pleasure :)
P.S: Virgin Rail? Corrupt disease-raddled whore Rail more like. A government-capitalist fuck-fest designed to get people out of the trains by making them as awful and expensive as possible (as they can't be arsed to fund them) and out on the roads, where they can be taxed heavily. And contribute to climate change. Rant rant rant.
( , Fri 8 Sep 2006, 10:59, Reply)
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