Profile for Unklian:
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- a member for 20 years, 5 months and 14 days
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- has posted 9 stories and 11 replies on question of the week
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» Not Losing Your Virginity
£19.95 Cowboy Boots......
About 1979 / 1980, the coolest things about were cowboy boots and tight jeans.
I was never a cool person but decided I would join the cool set.
New boots...Light tan leather...Check.
Tight jeans...Levi's.....Check.
Check shirt....Check.
I looked *soooo* cool.
Off to local party at house of lad who's parents are going through a divorce and are away. Two cans of Lager, Loud music on the "Entertainment Centre". Rather large girl appears who I've seen occasionaly round school. "Necking" starts then tongues then touching. Can't believe my luck.
About an hour later, "You can walk me home if you like, my parents are out tonight". Bloody Hell, I might actually do it for the first time. It's really, really, really going to happen. I can't believe it! Oh bless those boots for making me look so cool! I am a sex God!
Put on some warm clothes for it is winter. commence walking her home stopping every 50 yards (metres for you young'uns) for cuddles and more fumblings. "How far is it to your house?" I ask, toes becoming sore and very pinched. "Not far"..........About two miles further, My feet are in agony, I'm sitting down every few yards. "Not much further"....."Not much further"....."Not much further"....."Not much further"..... Boots off, starts to rain. Feet cold, wet, sore, erection gone, I know I have to walk about three miles home. sobering up....she's not good looking...........I make my excuses and kiss her tenderly goodnight. We go our seperate ways. I sit on a bench and reflect on the night then walk home in the rain. occasionally putting the boots back on when on rough surfaces.... The pleasure of getting home was incredible, I sat and cried with relief. I also cried myself to sleep the next night when I found out my mission had failed at the end of her street................................................As for those pesky boots, the remained in the bottom of the wardrobe for about 18 months before they were thrown away. They had cost me £19.95. They had cost me far more than that. Occasionaly, I may glance into a shoe shop window and see an almost identical pair. The memories of the pain flood back..............................................................DAMN YOU £19.95 LIGHT TAN COWBOY BOOTS.
(Tue 31st Oct 2006, 9:16, More)
£19.95 Cowboy Boots......
About 1979 / 1980, the coolest things about were cowboy boots and tight jeans.
I was never a cool person but decided I would join the cool set.
New boots...Light tan leather...Check.
Tight jeans...Levi's.....Check.
Check shirt....Check.
I looked *soooo* cool.
Off to local party at house of lad who's parents are going through a divorce and are away. Two cans of Lager, Loud music on the "Entertainment Centre". Rather large girl appears who I've seen occasionaly round school. "Necking" starts then tongues then touching. Can't believe my luck.
About an hour later, "You can walk me home if you like, my parents are out tonight". Bloody Hell, I might actually do it for the first time. It's really, really, really going to happen. I can't believe it! Oh bless those boots for making me look so cool! I am a sex God!
Put on some warm clothes for it is winter. commence walking her home stopping every 50 yards (metres for you young'uns) for cuddles and more fumblings. "How far is it to your house?" I ask, toes becoming sore and very pinched. "Not far"..........About two miles further, My feet are in agony, I'm sitting down every few yards. "Not much further"....."Not much further"....."Not much further"....."Not much further"..... Boots off, starts to rain. Feet cold, wet, sore, erection gone, I know I have to walk about three miles home. sobering up....she's not good looking...........I make my excuses and kiss her tenderly goodnight. We go our seperate ways. I sit on a bench and reflect on the night then walk home in the rain. occasionally putting the boots back on when on rough surfaces.... The pleasure of getting home was incredible, I sat and cried with relief. I also cried myself to sleep the next night when I found out my mission had failed at the end of her street................................................As for those pesky boots, the remained in the bottom of the wardrobe for about 18 months before they were thrown away. They had cost me £19.95. They had cost me far more than that. Occasionaly, I may glance into a shoe shop window and see an almost identical pair. The memories of the pain flood back..............................................................DAMN YOU £19.95 LIGHT TAN COWBOY BOOTS.
(Tue 31st Oct 2006, 9:16, More)
» Corporate Idiocy
Tried to be witty......Lost!
Sat in the house one morning......Phone rings.
I look at the number and don't recognise it but answer anyway.
"Hello. This is British Gas. (My supplier)......I'm ringing today to give you some information about our products."
Feeling super witty, I reply "Gas?"
"Yes, this is British Gas".
"No, what I meant was, your product is Gas"
"I'm ringing to tell you about our new product."
"Yes, I know. You produce Gas, that is your product."
Well sir, if you're just going to give me stupid replies, I'm not talking to you."......Click......Brrrrrrr.......
Hung up on me......WHAT!!
*Stunned*......What happened there?
Still irks me a year later.
MY stupidity, their industrial scale "Win".
(Sat 25th Feb 2012, 15:19, More)
Tried to be witty......Lost!
Sat in the house one morning......Phone rings.
I look at the number and don't recognise it but answer anyway.
"Hello. This is British Gas. (My supplier)......I'm ringing today to give you some information about our products."
Feeling super witty, I reply "Gas?"
"Yes, this is British Gas".
"No, what I meant was, your product is Gas"
"I'm ringing to tell you about our new product."
"Yes, I know. You produce Gas, that is your product."
Well sir, if you're just going to give me stupid replies, I'm not talking to you."......Click......Brrrrrrr.......
Hung up on me......WHAT!!
*Stunned*......What happened there?
Still irks me a year later.
MY stupidity, their industrial scale "Win".
(Sat 25th Feb 2012, 15:19, More)
» School Days
Bully almost dismembered......
In Brief...... Hardest kid in our year was Graham Dimelow.
The kind of kid who would punch you hard as he walked past just......because he would.
Anyway.
Metalwork lesson: Don't know if children are still allowed to do such things but lathes, milling machines etc. are in full swing, being operated by poorly supervised 14 year olds. Somebody is using a lathe with a bar of metal in it about 4 feet long. this means that part of the ragged ended metal (about 18" perhaps) is through the headstock of the lathe and spinning around quite quickly.
In these circumstances, standard practice is to put a piece of brightly coloured rag on the end to warn passers-by. No brightly coloured rag has been placed on the end......
It is about 1975 and school jumpers are made of indestructable man made stuff like nylon or other equally hard-wearing sweaty stuff.
People examine floor or ceiling as Graham Dimelow comes walking through the room......
People look up as the blood curdling screaming starts. He's walked past the spinning bar and the sharp spinning end has engaged in the "weave" of his jumper.
Lathes do not stop under such circumstances but continue slowly in their task. the front of the jumper is twisted into a thick, rope like sausage and, as the material is twisted up, Graham's waist is gradually reduced to ever smaller proportions.
The noise changes from a sort of suprised grunt, to a Arrrrrrrggggh, to a EEEEeeeeeee as, all air is squeezed out and organs are moved about.
Credit to the kid on the lathe, he stops it before death occurs and as people do in the seconds after something like this we all proceed to loudly exclaim "Fuckin' Ellllllll" and do errrrr......nothing.
Hero of the moment is Mr. Beckett, the "Hard Man" metalwork teacher who dashes over, takes one look, runs to the wall and returns with a large hacksaw. The twisted part of the jumper is sawn through and returns to normal size. Graham falls to the floor, gasping for breath.
Nobody Laughs.
After a short interval, Graham recovers and gets to his feet, the hole in his jumper went from waist to neck and armpit to armpit.
Mr Beckett went outside for a smoke.
Years later, it still makes me cringe, five more seconds would have resulted in a kid being literally squeezed in half before our very eyes.
Length? about 4 feet.
Diameter? About 12" round the waist.
Ian.
(Fri 30th Jan 2009, 9:39, More)
Bully almost dismembered......
In Brief...... Hardest kid in our year was Graham Dimelow.
The kind of kid who would punch you hard as he walked past just......because he would.
Anyway.
Metalwork lesson: Don't know if children are still allowed to do such things but lathes, milling machines etc. are in full swing, being operated by poorly supervised 14 year olds. Somebody is using a lathe with a bar of metal in it about 4 feet long. this means that part of the ragged ended metal (about 18" perhaps) is through the headstock of the lathe and spinning around quite quickly.
In these circumstances, standard practice is to put a piece of brightly coloured rag on the end to warn passers-by. No brightly coloured rag has been placed on the end......
It is about 1975 and school jumpers are made of indestructable man made stuff like nylon or other equally hard-wearing sweaty stuff.
People examine floor or ceiling as Graham Dimelow comes walking through the room......
People look up as the blood curdling screaming starts. He's walked past the spinning bar and the sharp spinning end has engaged in the "weave" of his jumper.
Lathes do not stop under such circumstances but continue slowly in their task. the front of the jumper is twisted into a thick, rope like sausage and, as the material is twisted up, Graham's waist is gradually reduced to ever smaller proportions.
The noise changes from a sort of suprised grunt, to a Arrrrrrrggggh, to a EEEEeeeeeee as, all air is squeezed out and organs are moved about.
Credit to the kid on the lathe, he stops it before death occurs and as people do in the seconds after something like this we all proceed to loudly exclaim "Fuckin' Ellllllll" and do errrrr......nothing.
Hero of the moment is Mr. Beckett, the "Hard Man" metalwork teacher who dashes over, takes one look, runs to the wall and returns with a large hacksaw. The twisted part of the jumper is sawn through and returns to normal size. Graham falls to the floor, gasping for breath.
Nobody Laughs.
After a short interval, Graham recovers and gets to his feet, the hole in his jumper went from waist to neck and armpit to armpit.
Mr Beckett went outside for a smoke.
Years later, it still makes me cringe, five more seconds would have resulted in a kid being literally squeezed in half before our very eyes.
Length? about 4 feet.
Diameter? About 12" round the waist.
Ian.
(Fri 30th Jan 2009, 9:39, More)
» Shit Stories
I was at a bike rally one weekend
I was busting for a shit. I walked the full length of the field getting more and more desparate. At the end of the field was a solitary Portaloo. Marvellous. I dashed in and......You should have seen it. There was a mound of shit to about six inches below the lid. (It was a non-flushing variety). Ah well, any port in a storm. I pulled my leathers down and sat........Ahhhhhhhhh, bliss. Except........I happened to do one of those turds you occasionally do that seem to be about fifteen inches long. As I was shitting this out, it bottomed out on top of the pile and stopped leaving my arse. I had to gradually lift myself off it so that it could finish coming out of my arse. It ended up looking like excalibur rising from the lake, about six inches higher than the lid. I walked back up the field sniggering away to myself. I can still imagine the look on the next persons face when the saw it.
(Thu 6th May 2004, 17:12, More)
I was at a bike rally one weekend
I was busting for a shit. I walked the full length of the field getting more and more desparate. At the end of the field was a solitary Portaloo. Marvellous. I dashed in and......You should have seen it. There was a mound of shit to about six inches below the lid. (It was a non-flushing variety). Ah well, any port in a storm. I pulled my leathers down and sat........Ahhhhhhhhh, bliss. Except........I happened to do one of those turds you occasionally do that seem to be about fifteen inches long. As I was shitting this out, it bottomed out on top of the pile and stopped leaving my arse. I had to gradually lift myself off it so that it could finish coming out of my arse. It ended up looking like excalibur rising from the lake, about six inches higher than the lid. I walked back up the field sniggering away to myself. I can still imagine the look on the next persons face when the saw it.
(Thu 6th May 2004, 17:12, More)
» DIY Surgery
Glue......
Working on my central heating with my uncle.
Replaced the pump and I decided to neaten the ends of the wiring connection.
Decided to trim the ends with a brand new Stanley knife......on my knee.
While pressing down, cut straight through the conductor into the top of my leg.
I moved the wire and examined the cut in my jeans.
"Thought I'd cut my leg" I muttered. Then the blood started.
Being half-way through the job, the half-inch wide, half-inch deep cut needed mending.
Luckily, I'd seen the previous day a program about inventions and how (urban myth?) Loctite was invented to repair wounds quickly in war zones.
We decided we'd glue it back together......Jeans off, wiped up blood......Applied Loctite to the edges......Between us we pressed the edges together and waited the requisite 10 seconds and......
3 thumbs glued to my leg!
Didn't take a picture of that.
Loctite does work in an emergency though!
Ian.
(Wed 26th Jan 2011, 9:30, More)
Glue......
Working on my central heating with my uncle.
Replaced the pump and I decided to neaten the ends of the wiring connection.
Decided to trim the ends with a brand new Stanley knife......on my knee.
While pressing down, cut straight through the conductor into the top of my leg.
I moved the wire and examined the cut in my jeans.
"Thought I'd cut my leg" I muttered. Then the blood started.
Being half-way through the job, the half-inch wide, half-inch deep cut needed mending.
Luckily, I'd seen the previous day a program about inventions and how (urban myth?) Loctite was invented to repair wounds quickly in war zones.
We decided we'd glue it back together......Jeans off, wiped up blood......Applied Loctite to the edges......Between us we pressed the edges together and waited the requisite 10 seconds and......
3 thumbs glued to my leg!
Didn't take a picture of that.
Loctite does work in an emergency though!
Ian.
(Wed 26th Jan 2011, 9:30, More)