Profile for The_Bishop:
Um. 33 year old lurker who was 25 when first he lurked here (he thinks...it certainly seemed to be 2001). In the intervening years he has married and had a stroke. In that order.
What else seems pertinent? Er...he'll get back to you on that.
Oh, and he does not normally refer to himself in the third person - but once he started it back there he couldn't stop.
Yes.
Move along.
Recent front page messages:
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- a member for 21 years, 1 month and 0 days
- has posted 4 messages on the main board
- has posted 0 messages on the talk board
- has posted 0 messages on the links board
- has posted 7 stories and 3 replies on question of the week
- They liked 0 pictures, 0 links, 0 talk posts, and 0 qotw answers.
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Um. 33 year old lurker who was 25 when first he lurked here (he thinks...it certainly seemed to be 2001). In the intervening years he has married and had a stroke. In that order.
What else seems pertinent? Er...he'll get back to you on that.
Oh, and he does not normally refer to himself in the third person - but once he started it back there he couldn't stop.
Yes.
Move along.
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
» The Weird Kid In Class
Thank God For That
Add my name to the list - the number of twisted little fucktards on here who have attempted to compensate for their own painful inadequacies by bullying the living bejaysus out of someone unlucky enough to be "different" and marginally weaker is remarkable.
Some of you lot should be ashamed of yourselves. Forever.
(Wed 24th Jan 2007, 23:45, More)
Thank God For That
Add my name to the list - the number of twisted little fucktards on here who have attempted to compensate for their own painful inadequacies by bullying the living bejaysus out of someone unlucky enough to be "different" and marginally weaker is remarkable.
Some of you lot should be ashamed of yourselves. Forever.
(Wed 24th Jan 2007, 23:45, More)
» Look! It's me in the Local Paper
Damn Welsh
I don't know if this really counts but anyway...
I made the nationals once (back in 1992) as a result of my, erm, swift departure - along with 7 others - from a somewhat posh school. "8 Expelled in Toff School Drug Shock" said the Sun.
Oh, and a couple of years back in my official capacity as a genuine editor for a rather good website I published a quiz prior to the England/Wales rugby match. Admittedly it was set up to take the piss out of the Welsh (I'm Irish, I'm allowed). I didn't, however, expect them to go stark raving mad about it and publish angry editorials in Cardiff's biggest daily and a couple of other places. Neither did I expect questions about "English racism" - using my quiz as an example - to be asked in the Welsh Assembly. I particularly did not expect a journalist from that Cardiff paper to ring me up and interview me on the subject. Oddballs.
Fun though.
No apologies either. Length or girth.
(Wed 16th Feb 2005, 15:05, More)
Damn Welsh
I don't know if this really counts but anyway...
I made the nationals once (back in 1992) as a result of my, erm, swift departure - along with 7 others - from a somewhat posh school. "8 Expelled in Toff School Drug Shock" said the Sun.
Oh, and a couple of years back in my official capacity as a genuine editor for a rather good website I published a quiz prior to the England/Wales rugby match. Admittedly it was set up to take the piss out of the Welsh (I'm Irish, I'm allowed). I didn't, however, expect them to go stark raving mad about it and publish angry editorials in Cardiff's biggest daily and a couple of other places. Neither did I expect questions about "English racism" - using my quiz as an example - to be asked in the Welsh Assembly. I particularly did not expect a journalist from that Cardiff paper to ring me up and interview me on the subject. Oddballs.
Fun though.
No apologies either. Length or girth.
(Wed 16th Feb 2005, 15:05, More)
» Scars with history
Knives, Blades and Claret
I have several high quality scars. My three favourites are;
1) The puncture wound in my knee. I went ice skating, got tripped up and banged the back two inches of the blade (that sticks out behind the boot) straight through my kneecap and into the minor artery behind. Cue ice going red, children screaming and me gazing in shock and awe as hot, dark red blood quite literally spouted from my knee in time to my heartbeat. And I mean spouted. Best bit of the entire thing was as I waited for the ambulance (remember I am in a pool of blood and, coz it's an artery, compression isn't doing a great deal to stem the flow) an American couple actually said "Gee, honey, are you ok?"...I was lost for sarcasm at that moment. Strangely I am now married to an American.
2) The rakish scar across the right hand side of my chest. I saw one of my mates emerging from the biology lab at school. Naturally I jumped on his back. He had been stealing scalpels...I didn't even notice until my shirt went damp and red...end result - 4 inch raised scar that looks like I was stabbed. And I was...sort of.
3) Much more recent 8 inch long beast down front of shin. Weird one this. After a party with some work colleagues me, the wife and the attractive lesbians (they do exist and at least one works with me) found ourselves at a loose end and decided to streak through the town centre. Cue one naked man and three naked women charging down the street. Then, for no apparent reason, leaping in bushes. One particular evil twig raked me...and the scar won't go even though it wasn't more than a scratch in the first place.
I've never apologised for length.
(Wed 9th Feb 2005, 12:35, More)
Knives, Blades and Claret
I have several high quality scars. My three favourites are;
1) The puncture wound in my knee. I went ice skating, got tripped up and banged the back two inches of the blade (that sticks out behind the boot) straight through my kneecap and into the minor artery behind. Cue ice going red, children screaming and me gazing in shock and awe as hot, dark red blood quite literally spouted from my knee in time to my heartbeat. And I mean spouted. Best bit of the entire thing was as I waited for the ambulance (remember I am in a pool of blood and, coz it's an artery, compression isn't doing a great deal to stem the flow) an American couple actually said "Gee, honey, are you ok?"...I was lost for sarcasm at that moment. Strangely I am now married to an American.
2) The rakish scar across the right hand side of my chest. I saw one of my mates emerging from the biology lab at school. Naturally I jumped on his back. He had been stealing scalpels...I didn't even notice until my shirt went damp and red...end result - 4 inch raised scar that looks like I was stabbed. And I was...sort of.
3) Much more recent 8 inch long beast down front of shin. Weird one this. After a party with some work colleagues me, the wife and the attractive lesbians (they do exist and at least one works with me) found ourselves at a loose end and decided to streak through the town centre. Cue one naked man and three naked women charging down the street. Then, for no apparent reason, leaping in bushes. One particular evil twig raked me...and the scar won't go even though it wasn't more than a scratch in the first place.
I've never apologised for length.
(Wed 9th Feb 2005, 12:35, More)
» Foot in Mouth Syndrome
The Horror
As a youth I had a friend by the name of Conor (well, he's still a mate even if the bugger moved to Oz) who spent a great deal of his time round my gaff. One particular day we and my parents were sitting in the front room chatting away...they asked where his girlfriend was and me, being the wag that I am, decided to make something of the fact that it was a Sunday and she was from a frighteningly religious family. What I MEANT to say was, "she's probably wearing hessian and kneeling by her bed praying for forgiveness". What I ACTUALLY said (and, for the life of me I will never understand why) was, "she's probably kneeling by her bed in tight black underwear." It was the worst freudian slip of my life. Parents looked gobsmacked, Conor gave me one of those looks which suggested impending violence and I, for my sins, could only compound the issue with a simple, "oh, fucking fuck.". The end.
(Fri 23rd Apr 2004, 11:01, More)
The Horror
As a youth I had a friend by the name of Conor (well, he's still a mate even if the bugger moved to Oz) who spent a great deal of his time round my gaff. One particular day we and my parents were sitting in the front room chatting away...they asked where his girlfriend was and me, being the wag that I am, decided to make something of the fact that it was a Sunday and she was from a frighteningly religious family. What I MEANT to say was, "she's probably wearing hessian and kneeling by her bed praying for forgiveness". What I ACTUALLY said (and, for the life of me I will never understand why) was, "she's probably kneeling by her bed in tight black underwear." It was the worst freudian slip of my life. Parents looked gobsmacked, Conor gave me one of those looks which suggested impending violence and I, for my sins, could only compound the issue with a simple, "oh, fucking fuck.". The end.
(Fri 23rd Apr 2004, 11:01, More)
» Pet Names
Pet Names
My cat is called Morgoth. He is an utter bastard. Took down a seagull once. Now lives in Carlisle (long story involving an ex-girlfriend and allergies) where, I am reliably informed, he contrived to eat the next door neighbour's child's new Guinea Pig on Boxing Day. The beast is a monster with no remorse.
(Thu 26th Feb 2004, 14:48, More)
Pet Names
My cat is called Morgoth. He is an utter bastard. Took down a seagull once. Now lives in Carlisle (long story involving an ex-girlfriend and allergies) where, I am reliably informed, he contrived to eat the next door neighbour's child's new Guinea Pig on Boxing Day. The beast is a monster with no remorse.
(Thu 26th Feb 2004, 14:48, More)