b3ta.com user Joey[kins]
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Generic Lurker. If only I had talent I'd post stuff...

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» Social Networking Gaffes

Outed by Facebook
Our story begins some time last year. I came out of my house in the morning to go to work, to notice a large dent in the wheel arch of my car parked across the street. Evidently someone who was turning in the road, probably to use the postbox by my house, had pranged my car and decided that they were above leaving their details to arrange recompense.

Anyway, I arrive at work still seething, and decided to vent my spleen by posting a Facebook note complete with photos. As my rant built up to a crescendo I suggested that I was fed up with this country and would be looking to leave for Australia or Canada and invited comments and suggestions on that subject.

Now, my friends instead decided to start suggesting that I'd enjoy the view over the Aussie beaches of all the hot guys in speedos, or all the strapping mounties in Canada etc. As one of the gays I consider myself fair game for such comments, but I'd forgotten an important point. Facebook isn't limited to my geeky friends; and whilst I don't consider myself in the closet, I'd not quite worked out how to start the conversation with either of the sets of parents instead opting for the spineless option of waiting until they mentioned it.

So, I was somewhat mortified when this reply to my friends replies appeared on my note:

Friend #1
Canada is full of strapping Mounties

Friend #2
Canada and Australia both are much better sources of "hot men" than here in the UK but at the same time it would be sad to see you leave :(

Friend #3
... Try netherlands I hear they have blonde boys ;)

Joe! Is there anything you want to tell us?

Me (by private message response)
Want to tell you? No not really. Should really tell you? yeah...

So there we go; I was outed to my parents by social networking sites.

EPILOGUE: It transpired that they'd suspected as much but didn't want to ask me because they didn't think it was really their business. It probably doesn't help that I'm comparitively butch (or at least I don't run around in pink hot pants screaming and flailing my arms around). They're very cool about it all and everything is good. Yay for cool parents!
(Fri 12th Sep 2008, 9:27, More)

» Petty Sabotage

more magnets
I put hard disk magnets in my boss's lunchbox, and then threw it at the 16ft high metal ceiling in our office. He had to stand on a REALLY high stepladder and bash it with a broom to get it down!
(Thu 5th May 2005, 19:12, More)

» Heckles

When I was about 9 I got dragged up on stage for the big singalong finale at the local theatre - the lead "actor" was none other than panto stalwart Gary Wilmot.

So there I am stood on stage with 4 other kids around my age, and I'm last in line to be spoken to. All the kids are asked the usual range of "hilarious" inappropriate questions like "what job do you do then" and "are you married".

He gets to me and asks me my name, and then JACKPOT - he asks me if I'm married.

I shuffle about uncomfortably and say in to the mic "she divorced me 2 weeks ago for my best friend"

Mr Wilmot totally lost his train of thought, and I got a "badum-TISH" from the drummer in the orchestra pit and a rousing laugh from the audience (more than the rest of the show in fact).
(Thu 6th Apr 2006, 18:03, More)

» Accidental animal cruelty

Cats and laminate wood flooring
I live in a 3 storey house. My old cat (Fluffy) used to entertain herself by running from the bottom of the first set of stairs up to the top of the 2nd set and back down again all the way around the 180 degree turn by the front door and in to the kitchen. For some reason she always did this first thing in the morning, every day. I slept on the top floor and regularly would be woken up at the weekends by the cat doing her morning exercises.

Now, the time came when the parents decided to redecorate the hall and kitchen, and one of the changes was the replacement of the tatty carpet with some shiny laminate wood floor.

And so it came to pass that on the Monday morning while I was eating my breakfast in the kitchen that I heard the tell-tale thumping noise of fluffy the cat sprinting up to the top floor and preparing for a high speed descent.

I could've warned her.

I decided the comedy value outweighed the warm feeling though.

Fluffy came bounding down the stairs at full pelt, came to the slingshot round the bottom of the bannister and suddenly found her claws useless against the might of ikea's finest flooring. The normally graceful and impressive sight of the cat turning faster than any plane or car could dream of instead became a mass of fur and loose legs to a desperate scratching noise soundtrack. Which came to a very abrupt end after just a fraction of a second as the cat went head-first in to the skirting board by the door.

The look of confusion on her face was priceless. She got up, and very gingerly walked in to the living room to have a nice lie down by the radiator.
(Thu 6th Dec 2007, 16:09, More)

» Unexpected Nudity

I've been the purveyor of surprise nudity...
... although in my defense I was just as surprised to discover that I was naked.

It's a lovely Saturday morning and I've woken up with the pleasant ever-so-slightly hungover sensation only blemished by the accompanying extremely dry mouth due to the visitation of the red wine badgers in the night. I decide that the best course of action is to get up and go and get a drink, so that is exactly what I do. Straight out of bed and downstairs to the kitchen.

Now, at this point I should stress that I sleep in my underwear unless there are extenuating circumstances; I just feel much more comfortable with my underwear holding everything in place. There were no such circumstances that night, I'd gone to bed alone (AUDIENCE: awwwww).

So out of bed, down the steep set of stairs from my room in the converted loft and down the main stairs in to the kitchen. As I descended the stairs though my brain started to receive and process strange information. "Things are not as expected" the impulses said. "You should investigate what is occurring that is outside the norm." Somewhat perturbed by this, I conclude that the best course of action is to continue to the kitchen and make myself a refreshing glass of squash, and use my newly hydrated state to think further about what could be wrong.

I was literally confronted by what was wrong as I looked down towards the cupboard containing the squash only to see my pump action yogurt cannon in full on morning horn mode pointing towards the bottles of Robinson's like some sort of meat-based divination rod.

My first thought was quite literally "where are my pants?!"

After processing the situation further my brain switches to thinking "oh cock, I am stranded downstairs naked & hard, and I have visitors in the house this weekend" (hence the red wine). I decided to carry on with Operation: Squash, and took the moment to compose myself. "It's fine, it's 8am on a Saturday morning and everyone is still asleep, just go back up to bed and no-one will know". Great idea.

Except that my hungover staggering down two flights of stairs had roused my (straight, male) housemate who managed to time his exit from his bedroom at just the right moment to see me at the top of the stairs supporting myself on the bannister with one hand, holding a pint of apple and blackcurrant in the other but still managing to point at him.

His response: a look as though to say "I don't want you to explain this; just fix it" and the despairing comment "oh for fuck sake Joe put some clothes on!".

I mumbled an apology and carried on going back upstairs, but as slowly as I could to avoid any meatspin style effects.
(Fri 29th May 2009, 15:00, More)
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