b3ta.com user Nimble Colin
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Name: Kev ("I love the fact that in real life you are called Kevin but decided to called yourself Colin on here. Aim high and all that." - Fenris, 2005)
Location: Halifax, West Yorks.

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Best answers to questions:

» The Onosecond

I accidentally sent a photo of my erect cock to my mate's hotmail address. 3 times.
It's an easy enough mistake to make...
I had bought a new phone and wanted to transfer picture from the old one to it. I couldn't use bluetooth or infrared so I tried to send them as multimedia messages instead. I had the photo because I'd seen my girlfriend over the weekend and she had been taking risqué photos of us for a laugh. In hindsight it was a poor choice of test pic, something I realised as I slipped and hit send on the first name which was in my address book (Andy) instead of sending to my own new number. The second I realised what had happened, I turned the phone off but it seems that Nokias are cleverer than that and send it when you turn the handset back on. Ever since he has made a point of telling every person I know and regularly brings it up again in the pub just for humiliating effect. The cunt. I have no idea why it sent three times either. It just did and that only serves to make it thrice as embarassing.
edit: And my parents know about this too. They think it is fucking hilarious.
(Thu 26th May 2005, 11:26, More)

» Inappropriate crushes

Girl next door.
My crush not only makes me look like a "breast-obsessed stalker" but nearly got my legs broken.

Back when I was at 6th form, making me precisely the right age to have my hormones permanently set to turbo (like age matters), my next door neighbour's daughter was roughly 24. She was and still is a delightfully nubile and petite blonde with an immensely pleasing degree of pertness. I think it fair to say that I had something of a crush. On hot, sunny days, when she wasn't jetting around the world (she was an air hostess, no less), she liked nothing better than to sunbathe in the back garden. Topless. And so the story unfolds with an air of tired inevitability...

Their garden is completely overlooked by our house and you can imagine my excitement, having arrived home early one afternoon to find her draped over a sun lounger; somehow having lost most of her attire. In my excitement to race from the back bedroom to the hole in the garden fence to get a closer look, I tripped. This wouldn't have been such an issue if I hadn't been at the top of the stairs at the time. I gave it the full Superman to about halfway down, flying gracefully until I put out my hands to grab the banister and wall to stop myself. Unfortunately I was already falling with such pace that I got friction burns on my palms and automatically recoiled, meaning I fell almost the entire length of the staircase without slowing at all. I hit the floor with tremendous force, bending my legs under me in a way that would make a physiotherapist sweat. At first I couldn't feel anything, until I was suddently overcome by the single most intense sensation of pain I have ever experienced. I was certain something was broken. After dragging myself to the sofa and hauling myself onto it using only my arms, I laid waiting for roughly four hours until someone found me. Luckily, it later turned out to be just a very bad sprain but I can safely say it was far more painful than either of the two times I have broken a bone. The swelling and continuing pain prevented me from walking for a week and a half and I also had to make up some flimsy excuses for parents and tutors as to how it all happened.

The next time it was sunny, I walked downstairs.
(Thu 28th Sep 2006, 22:37, More)

» Pure Ignorance

On work experience a few years ago
I was working in an office with a lairy 6'2" moron called rob who had a peroxide blonde goatee and the IQ of the average tea towel. I don't know how the conversation started but it got to the subject of peanuts. He was absolutely insistant that "they are made out of wood" and that anyone who doubted him was a twat.
(Fri 7th Jan 2005, 12:02, More)

» Pure Ignorance

On belhalf of my dad I shall post some of the things
he heard in his 17 months working for a security firm at the airport.

(bear in mind that my dad had the benefit of an x-ray scanner for this)
Dad: Do you have anything gas, electrical or battery operated in your bag sir?
Passenger: No
Dad: Well, I can see a plug
Passenger: No
Dad: A kettle perhaps?
Passenger: Oh yes
Dad: Anything else?
Passenger: No
Dad: What about the iron I can see then?
Passenger: Oh yes, that too
Dad: So you do have electrical items in your bag then, don't you sir?
Passenger: (and honest to god, he said this with a straight face) But they aren't plugged in

One of my favourite stories is one that was overheard between two of the baggage handlers he knew. One was telling the other how the American Airlines flight from Chicago had landed and the pilot had radioed to maintenance to have a look at some of the radio equipment that wasn't working in the cockpit. The engineer went to check it and found that it was actually working fine but as it turns out, they had flown all the way from America with the thing switched off. Tales like that don't do much to reassure you about long haul air travel.
(Fri 7th Jan 2005, 9:42, More)

» Your Greatest Dilemmas

This has happened to me 4 times now.
Friends girlfriend gets your phone number from your mate "so she can set you up with her sister" and then promptly begins sending you dirty text messages and saying things that make you need to cross your legs in public. She then says that she has to have you and that she never liked your mate much in the first place. Do you:
a) respond in kind with the text messgages/phone calls but not take it any further.
b) tell her that you have too much respect for your mate and that it wont ever happen. Ever.
c) throw caution to the wind and do the dirty on your mate, only to be wracked with guilt and, when she is with him, jealousy.

Spoiler alert!

I chose b,a,a,c (in that order)
(Wed 19th May 2004, 11:55, More)
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