b3ta.com user Nanny Pat
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I like cats, beer, shoes and cake

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» House Guests

The unholy trinity
Snowytherabbiits story down there reminded me of my favourite houseguest ever.

A group of us went out one Friday night for a few beers. My friend Kevin brought his work colleague / bit on the side with him to meet everyone. I shall call her Laura for that is her name. She seemed nice enough but really tiny and in need of a burger or something.
The night gets very messy and and we decide to head back to mine to carry on the night.

A few hours later and we were all pretty out of it and having a great night.
Laura decides she needs to use the bathroom so she gets up and promptly falls over backwards (no idea how she managed that) onto the glass coffee table sending cans of lager flying everywhere. She was wearing a teeny mini skirt so everyone was fully aware at that point she was wearing knickers

Anyway....a while later, Laura decides she’s had enough and needs to lie down so I let her sleep in my bed. Another friend of ours had already passed out in my room and I knew I wouldn’t need it for a while yet so I offer her my very comfy king size bed for the next few hours.

At 11am we decide to head to the pub. I go into my room to try and wake the sleeping beauties to get them to come to the pub with us.
My friend was where I’d left him on top of the duvet and Laura was tucked up under it. I could not believe the smell in there. I assumed my friend had done a lot of beer farts and I opened the window.

Anyway....
We head down the pub and after a while those two join us. I kept joking that the brown stain that had appeared on the back of Lauras leg was shit. But someone said it may have been where she fell on the table and hurt herself.
Laura was still wasted and after a half of lager she sat on a high bar stool and gave us a flash. She was no longer wearing knickers. We decided to send her home.

After a few hours I felt shocking and really wanted to head back to my lovely king size bed and sleeeeeeep.
I got home and threw back the covers only to discover a soggy skiddy shit on the side of the bed Laura had slept on. To make matters worse, she’d obviously pissed herself AND come on her period too.
She tried to blame it on my friend (who’d slept on the other side and on top of the duvet) when I called her. She didn’t seem bothered at all.

She paid for a new duvet and mattress but still blamed my friend.

I’d love to know where she’d thrown those skiddy knickers
(Fri 7th Jan 2011, 10:56, More)

» Clubs, gangs, and societies

Robin Hood
I'm a member of an archery club.
We shoot once a week and I find it a great way to relax.
My other half was slightly worried at first about having a lethal weapon in the house but when he saw how long it takes me to put my bow together, he realised he'd have plenty of time to run.
(Mon 25th Jun 2012, 10:43, More)

» Bedroom Disasters

The unholy trinity
Have a pea

A group of us went out one Friday night for a few beers. My friend Kevin brought his work colleague / bit on the side with him to meet everyone. I shall call her Laura for that is her name. She seemed nice enough but really tiny and in need of a burger or something.
The night gets very messy and and we decide to head back to mine to carry on the night.

A few hours later and we were all pretty out of it and having a great night.
Laura decides she needs to use the bathroom so she gets up and promptly falls over backwards (no idea how she managed that) onto the glass coffee table sending cans of lager flying everywhere. She was wearing a teeny mini skirt so everyone was fully aware at that point she was wearing knickers

Anyway....a while later, Laura decides she’s had enough and needs to lie down so I let her sleep in my bed. Another friend of ours had already passed out in my room and I knew I wouldn’t need it for a while yet so I offer her my very comfy king size bed for the next few hours.

At 11am we decide to head to the pub. I go into my room to try and wake the sleeping beauties to get them to come to the pub with us.
My friend was where I’d left him on top of the duvet and Laura was tucked up under it. I could not believe the smell in there. I assumed my friend had done a lot of beer farts and I opened the window.

Anyway....
We head down the pub and after a while those two join us. I kept joking that the brown stain that had appeared on the back of Lauras leg was shit. But someone said it may have been where she fell on the table and hurt herself.
Laura was still wasted and after a half of lager she sat on a high bar stool and gave us a flash. She was no longer wearing knickers. We decided to send her home.

After a few hours I felt shocking and really wanted to head back to my lovely king size bed and sleeeeeeep.
I got home and threw back the covers only to discover a soggy skiddy shit on the side of the bed Laura had slept on. To make matters worse, she’d obviously pissed herself AND come on her period too.
She tried to blame it on my friend (who’d slept on the other side and on top of the duvet) when I called her. She didn’t seem bothered at all.

She paid for a new duvet and mattress but still blamed my friend.

I’d love to know where she’d thrown those skiddy knickers
(Mon 27th Jun 2011, 14:25, More)

» Conversation Killers

Dolly
A few years ago my little sister had to be admitted to hospital for an operation on her foot.
She was put in a ward with 4 much older women. As they didn’t have many visitors we’d all chat to them when we went to see my sis.
One day when we were visiting her a nurse came to see Dolly.
Dolly was in her 50s and didn’t say very much but mentioned she’d had her ‘down there’ done which was a conversation stopper in itself.
The nurse had some badly hidden dildo type things on her tray and pulled the curtain round and after some mumbling and asking Dolly to put it in, we could hear Dolly groaning and saying ‘oooh that feels great. I’ve been wanting to feel that for years’

The whole ward sat with their mouths open in stony silence whilst a very newly pre-op transsexual was frigging herself off less than a metre away

*Edit - I mean post-op
(Mon 16th May 2011, 16:56, More)

» Irrational Hatred

Probably not that irrational but......
a few things that make me rage

Cheesy Crisps
They smell like the devil and make your fingers orange. If they do that to your fingers, imagine what they are doing to your insides?
I feel sick if anyone near me is eating them. They smell horrible and it clings to you all day. Vile

Eyes
I don’t have a problem with other peoples – it’s only having mine touched. Or anything near my eyes.
I had my eyebrows threaded once and cried so much she had to stop halfway as she brushed her hand against my eyelashes. *shivers*

Shoes
People who make you take your shoes off when you get into their house.
I haven’t been walking in shit you know

Decking
Why put crappy wood over a lovely garden?

Fell pregnant
People who say they ‘fell’ pregnant
Fell? Did you fall onto a penis and just so happen to get knocked up? No. Then stop saying it you fuckign mong it doesn’t even make sense

Toes / legs
Things going between toes really freaks me out. I can wear flip flops but if something gets trapped between my toes (string, material etc) I totally flip out. My sister used to put things between my toes (mostly playing cards) when I was asleep just to watch my reaction when I woke up. This was mostly screaming.
Also, things on my legs. If my other half happens to put his leg over one of mine at night I go mental. I do the same if I get my leg wrapped up in the duvet at night too.

Chalk
I hate the feeling of chalk on my hands. It’s making me go all goosey just thinking about it.

Maltesers
I hate them. They are nasty dry little shells that stick to the roof of your mouth.

Slamming
What’s wrong with you? Are you a 15 year old sulky hormonal teenager? No. You are a grown adult. Close the door properly you slack handed fucko

Walkers
Or people who don’t know how to walk.
The people who suddenly stop walking at the top of an escalator, or the people who walk out of a shop doorway only to suddenly stop and decide where they are going to next whilst standing right in the exit. Fuckos.
Or the people who decide the middle of a busy high street on a Saturday afternoon is the perfect place to stop and have a chat.
They usually seem surprised when I ask them to ‘move out of the bloody way’

Oyster Card rummagers.
You do the journey every day. It’s not like the Oyster machine is a shock. It hasn’t sprung up over night.
Why on earth do you wait till you get right up to it before rummaging in your bag for your oyster card and manage to hold up everyone behind you? Thickos.
(Mon 4th Apr 2011, 14:03, More)
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