Profile for domesticterrorist:
none
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
[read all their answers]
- a member for 20 years, 11 months and 7 days
- has posted 0 messages on the main board
- has posted 0 messages on the talk board
- has posted 0 messages on the links board
- has posted 15 stories and 0 replies on question of the week
- They liked 0 pictures, 0 links, 0 talk posts, and 10 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:
» Rock and Roll Stories
Nine Inch Punch
During Nine Inch Nails first British tour, in 1991, they were lined up to play Birmingham Goldwyns (Capacity 600 or so). Despite the fact the drummer was in a cage to prevent getting knocked out by flying instruments, there was still damage. During one song, Trent leaned out into the crowd and started a lame form of crowdsurfing. Not sure exactly who was rolling around on top of me, and not taking well to be kicked in the face, I found my assailiants bollocks, and dispensed a couple of sharp jabs to teach him a lesson.
You can hear it on an old bootleg tape I have, as he stops singing and goes "OOOOF".
It was about then I realised I'd just punched Trent Reznor in the bollocks.
(Fri 30th Jun 2006, 22:18, More)
Nine Inch Punch
During Nine Inch Nails first British tour, in 1991, they were lined up to play Birmingham Goldwyns (Capacity 600 or so). Despite the fact the drummer was in a cage to prevent getting knocked out by flying instruments, there was still damage. During one song, Trent leaned out into the crowd and started a lame form of crowdsurfing. Not sure exactly who was rolling around on top of me, and not taking well to be kicked in the face, I found my assailiants bollocks, and dispensed a couple of sharp jabs to teach him a lesson.
You can hear it on an old bootleg tape I have, as he stops singing and goes "OOOOF".
It was about then I realised I'd just punched Trent Reznor in the bollocks.
(Fri 30th Jun 2006, 22:18, More)
» Have you ever been dumped in a spectacular way?
probably the most spectacular dumping I've ever had
I came back from work on the day after my birthday, opened the front door and...
All her stuff was gone. And all my DVD's. And a post it note on my computer.
And that's how I learnt I was getting divorced.
After she moved out though, she refused to return the keys to the flat. So whilst I was at work she kept coming back, taking things she felt like keeping, switched on my computer, copied files she wanted, hacked my email account, read all my emails for a few months (good thing I knew she was doing this, so got a few offline friends to participate in a Mega Bullshit stream), tried and failed to hack into my other email accounts, tried to screw over and empty the joint bank account, then served me with divorce papers proclaiming I was a pornography addicted wifebeater into a swinging lifestyle.
The day before she left we'd had a row because she thought that a birthday card from my Dad was from one of the thousands of women I was suppsoed to be having an affair with. Needless to say, I'd had enough of that bullshit.
Before she left mind you, she used to ring up all my female friends whenever I was working late to make sure I wasn't up to my nuts in guts with them, reckoned I was sleeping with at least 3 women regularly, thought that when I went to work I was actually having orgies with Everyone In South London, and was generally a weirdo living in cloudcuckooland. Oh, and on top of this, she didn't have a job for a year before she left so cost me thousands of pounds as I paid the bills because someone had to.
She would also regularly disappear for hours at a time, with a male friend, before moving in with him. Hmm. Affair, anyone?
Oh, and she was a drunk driver and once fell asleep hungover whilst driving on the motorway. She was also a former Coke Addict who'd been on the gak for a few years previous but apparently now cleaned up.
Secretly I was hoping she would leave, but my God, what a way to be dumped. It was like a bad BBC2 sitcom. Still no doubt she has been putting out for England ever since, unlucky bastards that they are, but tonight "thank god its them instead of you".
So there you go, in one day I lost a wife, a computer, a lot of CD's, some of my clothes, all my DVD's, and the hope of ever seeing several thousand pounds ever again. I really wish I had been a pornography addicted, wifebeating philanderer, but I still wouldn't've got my money's worth out of that dumb waste of pubic hair.
(Thu 17th Jun 2004, 21:59, More)
probably the most spectacular dumping I've ever had
I came back from work on the day after my birthday, opened the front door and...
All her stuff was gone. And all my DVD's. And a post it note on my computer.
And that's how I learnt I was getting divorced.
After she moved out though, she refused to return the keys to the flat. So whilst I was at work she kept coming back, taking things she felt like keeping, switched on my computer, copied files she wanted, hacked my email account, read all my emails for a few months (good thing I knew she was doing this, so got a few offline friends to participate in a Mega Bullshit stream), tried and failed to hack into my other email accounts, tried to screw over and empty the joint bank account, then served me with divorce papers proclaiming I was a pornography addicted wifebeater into a swinging lifestyle.
The day before she left we'd had a row because she thought that a birthday card from my Dad was from one of the thousands of women I was suppsoed to be having an affair with. Needless to say, I'd had enough of that bullshit.
Before she left mind you, she used to ring up all my female friends whenever I was working late to make sure I wasn't up to my nuts in guts with them, reckoned I was sleeping with at least 3 women regularly, thought that when I went to work I was actually having orgies with Everyone In South London, and was generally a weirdo living in cloudcuckooland. Oh, and on top of this, she didn't have a job for a year before she left so cost me thousands of pounds as I paid the bills because someone had to.
She would also regularly disappear for hours at a time, with a male friend, before moving in with him. Hmm. Affair, anyone?
Oh, and she was a drunk driver and once fell asleep hungover whilst driving on the motorway. She was also a former Coke Addict who'd been on the gak for a few years previous but apparently now cleaned up.
Secretly I was hoping she would leave, but my God, what a way to be dumped. It was like a bad BBC2 sitcom. Still no doubt she has been putting out for England ever since, unlucky bastards that they are, but tonight "thank god its them instead of you".
So there you go, in one day I lost a wife, a computer, a lot of CD's, some of my clothes, all my DVD's, and the hope of ever seeing several thousand pounds ever again. I really wish I had been a pornography addicted, wifebeating philanderer, but I still wouldn't've got my money's worth out of that dumb waste of pubic hair.
(Thu 17th Jun 2004, 21:59, More)
» Your Revenge Stories
The Old Faithful
One night, during my just-split-up-with-my-girlfriend, drunk-as-hell phase, I had a godawful/brilliant night in Snobs in Birmingham. Being the kind of place students went (including myelf) it was full of people who would steal a pint as soon as you turn around. Being aware of this (and having lost two pints that night), I decided a refill was in order. Being environmentally conscious, I like to recycle, and poured a pint straight from my trouser tap.
Upon my return, I placed the pint in it's usual place, where it had slowly been drunk by thieving anonymous scumbags all night... proceeded to pretend to be oblivious of it, and saw it slowly get smaller and smaller as the night went on as people took to helping themselves. When it was empty, I did it again.
And they drank another pint of my piss without noticing it had come straight from the source.
Revenge tastes good.
(Fri 14th May 2004, 15:01, More)
The Old Faithful
One night, during my just-split-up-with-my-girlfriend, drunk-as-hell phase, I had a godawful/brilliant night in Snobs in Birmingham. Being the kind of place students went (including myelf) it was full of people who would steal a pint as soon as you turn around. Being aware of this (and having lost two pints that night), I decided a refill was in order. Being environmentally conscious, I like to recycle, and poured a pint straight from my trouser tap.
Upon my return, I placed the pint in it's usual place, where it had slowly been drunk by thieving anonymous scumbags all night... proceeded to pretend to be oblivious of it, and saw it slowly get smaller and smaller as the night went on as people took to helping themselves. When it was empty, I did it again.
And they drank another pint of my piss without noticing it had come straight from the source.
Revenge tastes good.
(Fri 14th May 2004, 15:01, More)
» Shit Stories
Two dreadful moments....
Typical festival toilet gag. Phoenix Festival 1994. As everyone knows the Phoenix festival was the My-Mum's, Own-Brand Box Of Broken Biscuits of Festivals. Someone on site didn't know quite how to work the toilet : and instead of sucking it all away, all the toilets in the network pushed it all back. Fine. Excepting they all came up through ONE toilet : the last one in the queue. Which I opened. Hungover. On the Monday Morning. I was looking at a 5 day old pyramid of shite taller than a man, blacker than midnight, and with the appopriate sense of awe that only comes from seeing a modern miracle with one's own eyes. It was almost a work of art.
The other one happened at Christmas. We recently got a rabbit, who would eat anything. After two solid weeks of eating pine needles, the poor fella began walking funny and leaving blood spots on the floor. He was shitting the needles, undigested, and had developed, a huge, distended set of muscles, on his arse thanks to the super-rabbit effort he was making to shit out the pines. It was like a huge, fleshy, second tail. I didn't even imagine in my worst nightmares I would ever face Rabbit Piles. Let alone having to douse his rearend with cottonwool covered in something I couldn't pronounce from the Vets three times daily until his second tail has shrunk again, weeks later. Oh. My. God.
(Thu 6th May 2004, 14:17, More)
Two dreadful moments....
Typical festival toilet gag. Phoenix Festival 1994. As everyone knows the Phoenix festival was the My-Mum's, Own-Brand Box Of Broken Biscuits of Festivals. Someone on site didn't know quite how to work the toilet : and instead of sucking it all away, all the toilets in the network pushed it all back. Fine. Excepting they all came up through ONE toilet : the last one in the queue. Which I opened. Hungover. On the Monday Morning. I was looking at a 5 day old pyramid of shite taller than a man, blacker than midnight, and with the appopriate sense of awe that only comes from seeing a modern miracle with one's own eyes. It was almost a work of art.
The other one happened at Christmas. We recently got a rabbit, who would eat anything. After two solid weeks of eating pine needles, the poor fella began walking funny and leaving blood spots on the floor. He was shitting the needles, undigested, and had developed, a huge, distended set of muscles, on his arse thanks to the super-rabbit effort he was making to shit out the pines. It was like a huge, fleshy, second tail. I didn't even imagine in my worst nightmares I would ever face Rabbit Piles. Let alone having to douse his rearend with cottonwool covered in something I couldn't pronounce from the Vets three times daily until his second tail has shrunk again, weeks later. Oh. My. God.
(Thu 6th May 2004, 14:17, More)
» Things you've done when you've had no money.
It was all true
In my darkest hours I did
1. Existed solely on a diet of Spaghetti Curry or Rice Bolognase, with ingedients frankensteined out of whatever was left in the cupboard. My lowest point was a tomato-and-water sauce and bread substiting for meat. Or starving myself all dayand then having a Pot Noodle sandwich in two loaves of bread. Which is even sadder than it sounds.
2. Cleaned out all my childhood bank accounts, which provided the tidy sum of £1.43. As I said "I'd like to withdraw one fourty three please", the woman behind the counter said "One hundred and forty three pounds?". I wish. Such a figure was a virtual paradise.
3. In order to get into gigs I'd make up imaginary fanzines, ring up the press office, get guestlist tickets, then forget to send in a copy of my non-existent 'zine.
4. A friend of mine used to order CD's off a well-known Internet Retailer in it's infancy. He'd claim the CD wasn't delivered, and they'd send a second one. He'd rotate addresses, names, credit cards, and so forth, and Bingo! Free CD's, off to Ebay for cash. The numbskull. They are considerably wiser now, I hope. He certainly is.
5. When doing The Great Indie Band Tours of 1991-92, friends of mine would find and sleep with a good looking bloke in the crowd so they didn't have to pay for hotels, or get the blokes to buy them drinks at the dodgy nightclub so they didn't have to sleep anywhere and get the 5am train. I was perpetual Mr-Hanger-On The-Girls-Knew who got the sofa, everytime.
(Sun 10th Oct 2004, 3:34, More)
It was all true
In my darkest hours I did
1. Existed solely on a diet of Spaghetti Curry or Rice Bolognase, with ingedients frankensteined out of whatever was left in the cupboard. My lowest point was a tomato-and-water sauce and bread substiting for meat. Or starving myself all dayand then having a Pot Noodle sandwich in two loaves of bread. Which is even sadder than it sounds.
2. Cleaned out all my childhood bank accounts, which provided the tidy sum of £1.43. As I said "I'd like to withdraw one fourty three please", the woman behind the counter said "One hundred and forty three pounds?". I wish. Such a figure was a virtual paradise.
3. In order to get into gigs I'd make up imaginary fanzines, ring up the press office, get guestlist tickets, then forget to send in a copy of my non-existent 'zine.
4. A friend of mine used to order CD's off a well-known Internet Retailer in it's infancy. He'd claim the CD wasn't delivered, and they'd send a second one. He'd rotate addresses, names, credit cards, and so forth, and Bingo! Free CD's, off to Ebay for cash. The numbskull. They are considerably wiser now, I hope. He certainly is.
5. When doing The Great Indie Band Tours of 1991-92, friends of mine would find and sleep with a good looking bloke in the crowd so they didn't have to pay for hotels, or get the blokes to buy them drinks at the dodgy nightclub so they didn't have to sleep anywhere and get the 5am train. I was perpetual Mr-Hanger-On The-Girls-Knew who got the sofa, everytime.
(Sun 10th Oct 2004, 3:34, More)