» My Wanking Disasters

Not me, but a friend, who I will call John
... and that IS his real name. Better not tell you his surname or I will get bollocked.

He got a new posh 'furnished' flat in Manchester somewhere. One of those minimalist jobbies with a wooden floor, couple of chairs and a small coffee table in the living room.

Anyway, the day he moves in he thought he'd celebrate with a wank. So he slaps some hardcore porn DVD on, sits back in his chair and starts stroking the pink tromboner.

Then his mobile rings. He answers it while still in mid-wank and carries on regardless, apparently close to climax. The guy on the phone says "John, what the FUCK are you doing?!! Everybody on the main road can see you!"

Apparently, there were no curtains, and you know how when you have the light on inside, it looks darker outside, so he thought..... dumb TWAT!!

They never spoke of it again.
(Wed 2nd Jun 2004, 18:15, More)

» Mini Cabs From Hell

Cabbie like Manuel from Fawlty Towers
I was leaving a nightclub in Leeds at about 3am just when they all start kicking everyone out and me, my friends and a girl I fancied were trying to find a cab along with the other 10,000 pissed up idiots.

Anyway, the girl I fancied (let's call her Emma) decided it wouldn't hurt to phone for one, despite the odds or success being slightly unrealistic. Miraculously, we get a cab, only it stops away from where we were waiting - we know it's our cab because the driver called Emma back on her mobile.

Anyway, Emma sprints up the street to grab the cab, and some bloke decides to high-kick here in the head for no reason other than perhaps she was queue-jumping the line. She falls to the ground like a sack of bricks and we run over to help her. I was too pissed to be confident about what I thought I saw, so made no accusations, I was more concerned about her. So she regains consciousness, and we get in the cab. My friends say to me "It was that fat bloke that did it". My anger surfaces. A plan comes together. I said to the taxi driver: "When I say go I want you to GO!!"

So I get out of the cab and yell at the fat twat: "You fat, woman beating fat fucker and did I mention you were FAT you CUNT!" As predicted, he tries to sprint towards me (slow cos he was fat) and I casually get back in the taxi and say to the driver "now you can GO".

He turns round to me and says "que?"
I say "GO, NOW"
He says "Que?!?!?"
"Fucking GO, GO , GOOOOOO!"
"Que..." etc.

anyway, befor he could say "Que" again, I got my nose broken (door was unlocked, my seatbelt was on, fucked up really badly...) I rip the entire inside of the door off in my attempt to close it with a fat bastard trying to get in the taxi. Taxi driver begins to comprehend and starts driving away. We leave fat bastard and most of the door behind. Taxi driver tells me to pay for it. I say "fuck off, you don't fucking speak English" and he took us home without saying another word. I got sympathy sex from Emma. Couldn't breathe through my nose for a week though.

Sorry for length.
(Thu 27th May 2004, 15:02, More)

» Singing the wrong words

MC Hammer's Massive Testicles
My mate (yes, my MATE) used to reckon the words to MC Hammer's 'Can't touch this' went like this: Dum, du, du dum, d-dum dum , KING TESTES (as in plural of testicle).

So all the time he must have thought the baggy pants were to hide MC Hammer's massive bollocks.
(Fri 28th Jan 2005, 13:19, More)

» Shit Stories

Northern Line pooh carriage...
I was waiting at Clapham North tube station for the next train into town at morning rush hour. I had been waiting ten minutes and about 4 fully-packed trains had gone past already, that were so full I couldn't get on. The next one pulled into the station. Carriage after carriage went past, all of them full to bursting point of commuters. Fuck, I thought. This is taking the piss. Then I noticed one carriage out of them all was almost empty! What luck!! I sprinted down the platform as fast as I could to reach my Holy Grail before some other cunts got it. The doors started closing, the beep-beep-beep-beep was beeping but I got there just in time as the doors closed behind me. How pround I was, looking out of the window smugly at the other poor sods who didn't make it as the train departed. I turned around, time to find a seat. Loads of choice. The other three people in this carriage are right at the ends. How strange, I thought. It was then that I noticed a pile of at least 6 human poos slipping around on the floor this way and that, riding a lake of piss. Thankfully, I managed to ride it out to the next stop without getting any shit or piss on my feet. Some more poor sods got on at the next stop though. Hehehehee love it!
(Thu 6th May 2004, 17:40, More)

» You're a moviestar baby

Baddiel and Skinner Unplanned.
My mate got us some tickets to go and see the aforementioned show as part of the audience when it was broadcast live on the telly. I agreed heartily, as I had never been to a TV studio before despite never having seen the first 'episode' that was broadcast the night before or having any idea what it was about.

We get to the studios, and we rapidly consumed our two-free-beers allowance that the studio judge as 'enough to make you giggle', 'not enough for you to have to leave a live show for a piss'. That's my theory anyway.

It is at this point that somebody outlines the premise of the show for me: it is unscripted audience participation. Baddeil and Skinner just pick you out of the audience and start talking to you on live telly - and you are supposed to come up with questions for them to answer.

Paranoia crept in. I sorely wanted to have an aisle seat. And at least ten people to the left and right of me. The front row was out of the question too. Panic. Panic. We were led to the seats. I started to relax when we were seated halfway up, and right in the middle.

Anyway the show kicked off, it was jolly good fun. You could see what was airing cos there was a fecking masssive screen above the stage show displaying what the camera-man was pointing at.

All of a sudden my face was plastered over that screen. I felt my face go red. My heart stopped. I could feel spasms in my arse.

But luckily the camera was pointing at some twat in front of me because he had a stupid mullet. Cunt.
(Thu 11th Nov 2004, 19:45, More)