Profile for Vernie:
none
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
[read all their answers]
- a member for 20 years, 11 months and 19 days
- has posted 16 messages on the main board
- has posted 0 messages on the talk board
- has posted 1 messages on the links board
- (including 1 links)
- has posted 24 stories and 0 replies on question of the week
- They liked 0 pictures, 0 links, 0 talk posts, and 8 qotw answers.
- Ignore this user
- Add this user as a friend
- send me a message
none
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
» Sleepwalking
Naked man love
Bless my husband and his sleepy comedy antics. He generally tends to stick to talking in his sleep - examples include:
Sleeping Husband: Bodie and Doyle.
Awake Me: Who are Bodie and Doyle?
Him: The Professionals.
Me: Why are you talking about the Professionals?
Him: Well you bought up TV Detectives (turns over in a strop)
Sleeping Husband: I'm going for a 70s wee.
Awake Me: What's a 70s wee?
Him: A wee with flares on.
But I digress. This is about sleepwalking.
One night, he and I had been out drinking and clubbing with my brother. Somehow we'd ended up in an altercation with bunch of idiots (obviously any offence could not possible have been caused by us!?) and my brother had taken a pasting. We waited for a cab, my brother bleeding and passing out periodically, got home (to the house my bro and I shared at the time), and I (being the most mum-like out of the three of us) bathed his face wounds and put him to bed. As husband and I turned in, I suggested that, should hubby get up in the night for a piss or whatever, he should check on bro, make sure he hadn't choked on his own vomit or something. I was apparently taken at my word.
I was awoken later in the night by a furious brother insisting that I come and retrieve my man - apparently my still sleeping husband had gone in to check on him, and just to make sure all was well, had popped into bed next to him. Stark bollock naked. I was assured that no "rubbing" had taken place.
Click "I like this" if I should be asking more difficult questions of both of them...
(Thu 23rd Aug 2007, 17:55, More)
Naked man love
Bless my husband and his sleepy comedy antics. He generally tends to stick to talking in his sleep - examples include:
Sleeping Husband: Bodie and Doyle.
Awake Me: Who are Bodie and Doyle?
Him: The Professionals.
Me: Why are you talking about the Professionals?
Him: Well you bought up TV Detectives (turns over in a strop)
Sleeping Husband: I'm going for a 70s wee.
Awake Me: What's a 70s wee?
Him: A wee with flares on.
But I digress. This is about sleepwalking.
One night, he and I had been out drinking and clubbing with my brother. Somehow we'd ended up in an altercation with bunch of idiots (obviously any offence could not possible have been caused by us!?) and my brother had taken a pasting. We waited for a cab, my brother bleeding and passing out periodically, got home (to the house my bro and I shared at the time), and I (being the most mum-like out of the three of us) bathed his face wounds and put him to bed. As husband and I turned in, I suggested that, should hubby get up in the night for a piss or whatever, he should check on bro, make sure he hadn't choked on his own vomit or something. I was apparently taken at my word.
I was awoken later in the night by a furious brother insisting that I come and retrieve my man - apparently my still sleeping husband had gone in to check on him, and just to make sure all was well, had popped into bed next to him. Stark bollock naked. I was assured that no "rubbing" had taken place.
Click "I like this" if I should be asking more difficult questions of both of them...
(Thu 23rd Aug 2007, 17:55, More)
» Essential Items
A set of Supercar Top Trumps Cards
My younger brother and I occasionally get the train home together. He forgets we are in public and spends most journeys pinching me/punching me/slapping anything I'm trying to read out of my hands/making faces at me/making strange noises to get my attention/generally irritating me to the point of fratracide. So I take the top trumps cards to play with him, in order that he behaves.
He is 23 years old, and I am 26.
(Thu 27th Oct 2005, 16:15, More)
A set of Supercar Top Trumps Cards
My younger brother and I occasionally get the train home together. He forgets we are in public and spends most journeys pinching me/punching me/slapping anything I'm trying to read out of my hands/making faces at me/making strange noises to get my attention/generally irritating me to the point of fratracide. So I take the top trumps cards to play with him, in order that he behaves.
He is 23 years old, and I am 26.
(Thu 27th Oct 2005, 16:15, More)
» DIY fashion
From Flanders Fields
Whilst still living in London, I hung about with a group all into similar music. We liked our rock, bit of goth, you get the picture. Many were the pairs of DMs, and numerous were the rock T-shirts.
My friend's husband at the time (she finally saw sense and showed him the door) was a bit of a crusty - he was also a slight man, small of frame and pretty diminished in the height area as well. Remember this as it's relevant later.
Anyway he proudly stomped down the pub one night in a long old style army coat - full on khaki floor length with military insignia a plenty. He'd bought it second hand.
He proceeded to break into a heart wrenching speech, explaining that the coat once belonged to a French soldier in the first world war, who had probably died in the trenches. By this time the rest of us listening were in tears. He finished with a flourish of "and to this day, you can still read the soldiers name in the back of the coat".
Show us, Steve, we chorused. And duly he did.
It said "Petit". In biro.
Tit.
(Fri 25th Aug 2006, 16:08, More)
From Flanders Fields
Whilst still living in London, I hung about with a group all into similar music. We liked our rock, bit of goth, you get the picture. Many were the pairs of DMs, and numerous were the rock T-shirts.
My friend's husband at the time (she finally saw sense and showed him the door) was a bit of a crusty - he was also a slight man, small of frame and pretty diminished in the height area as well. Remember this as it's relevant later.
Anyway he proudly stomped down the pub one night in a long old style army coat - full on khaki floor length with military insignia a plenty. He'd bought it second hand.
He proceeded to break into a heart wrenching speech, explaining that the coat once belonged to a French soldier in the first world war, who had probably died in the trenches. By this time the rest of us listening were in tears. He finished with a flourish of "and to this day, you can still read the soldiers name in the back of the coat".
Show us, Steve, we chorused. And duly he did.
It said "Petit". In biro.
Tit.
(Fri 25th Aug 2006, 16:08, More)
» Weird Traditions
Shag
Everyone in my family has the nickname "Shag". My dad and mum call each other Shag. My dad calls myself and my brother Shag. He calls mum's brother Shag. Quite embarrassing when you've got your mates over as an adolescent and he's hollering it up the stairs (to summon mother). But quite sweet really, I understand it's a type of duck (as well as being an activity carried out in the dark in wet and sticky conditions).
(Fri 29th Jul 2005, 13:39, More)
Shag
Everyone in my family has the nickname "Shag". My dad and mum call each other Shag. My dad calls myself and my brother Shag. He calls mum's brother Shag. Quite embarrassing when you've got your mates over as an adolescent and he's hollering it up the stairs (to summon mother). But quite sweet really, I understand it's a type of duck (as well as being an activity carried out in the dark in wet and sticky conditions).
(Fri 29th Jul 2005, 13:39, More)