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» Intense Friendships
The morning after
my best friend and I exchanged blood [back in Primary school days], he walked in to the classroom, sat down beside me and announced in his gravest voice; "We've both got aids and we're going to die". Neither of us knew anything about Aids other than that it was bad, so of course I started shitting myself [figuratively] whilst he remained perfectly calm, neatly setting his excersize books out on the desk.
The next morning, we were apparently dead from aids and had come back as ghosts. We had to concentrate if we wanted to have any physical effect upon our surroundings, which probably resulted in incredibly constipated girning everytime we opened a door. However, we had to keep the fact that we were ghosts a secret from the adults so that we wouldn't get in trouble for giving each other aids, which resulted in conspiratorial whispering for about a month or so whilst we searched for a way to come back to life.
Needless to say, one morning my friend walked in to the classroom, sat down and announced "Joe, I've figured it out, we're alive again!" just as I was concentrating on opening the little draw suspended beneath my desk. Sure enough, I found that I no longer needed to concentrate to pick things up, and we had been miraculously cured of both aids and death. I never recieved an explanation from my friend, but it was good enough for me because he was the leader of our gang so any bullshit he made up was accepted as Bible.
(Mon 31st Jul 2006, 12:36, More)
The morning after
my best friend and I exchanged blood [back in Primary school days], he walked in to the classroom, sat down beside me and announced in his gravest voice; "We've both got aids and we're going to die". Neither of us knew anything about Aids other than that it was bad, so of course I started shitting myself [figuratively] whilst he remained perfectly calm, neatly setting his excersize books out on the desk.
The next morning, we were apparently dead from aids and had come back as ghosts. We had to concentrate if we wanted to have any physical effect upon our surroundings, which probably resulted in incredibly constipated girning everytime we opened a door. However, we had to keep the fact that we were ghosts a secret from the adults so that we wouldn't get in trouble for giving each other aids, which resulted in conspiratorial whispering for about a month or so whilst we searched for a way to come back to life.
Needless to say, one morning my friend walked in to the classroom, sat down and announced "Joe, I've figured it out, we're alive again!" just as I was concentrating on opening the little draw suspended beneath my desk. Sure enough, I found that I no longer needed to concentrate to pick things up, and we had been miraculously cured of both aids and death. I never recieved an explanation from my friend, but it was good enough for me because he was the leader of our gang so any bullshit he made up was accepted as Bible.
(Mon 31st Jul 2006, 12:36, More)
» I hurt my rude bits
I got stung not once, not twice, but THRICE on the behind by the same wasp when I was about twelve. The first time hurt quite poignantly, but I was in the middle of a football game during school lunchbreak, and I didn't actually know that there was a [very unfortunate] wasp having misadventures in my kecks, so I bit my lip and swallowed the pain. Afterall, when you're a twelve year old fella out to prove your worth on the football field, it's quite important that you -don't- start running in circles, clutching your bum in both hands and screaming like a girl. I don't know why -- that's just the politics of the playground.
Anyway, the wayward wasp proceeded to sting me a second time, and it was only when the lunch bell had been rung and I'd been herded back to the classroom that I sat down heavily on the afforementioned bottom and recieved the third and final sting, that I realised I must have had an intruder in my underpants. Sure enough, when I got home and inspected my rear in the bathroom mirror I discovered the spent wasp and three deep red welts, all standing proud on one buttock.
Knowing the cause of the pain made it infinitely harder to sit down, whereas before it was merely an irritation.
(Wed 19th Jul 2006, 13:41, More)
I got stung not once, not twice, but THRICE on the behind by the same wasp when I was about twelve. The first time hurt quite poignantly, but I was in the middle of a football game during school lunchbreak, and I didn't actually know that there was a [very unfortunate] wasp having misadventures in my kecks, so I bit my lip and swallowed the pain. Afterall, when you're a twelve year old fella out to prove your worth on the football field, it's quite important that you -don't- start running in circles, clutching your bum in both hands and screaming like a girl. I don't know why -- that's just the politics of the playground.
Anyway, the wayward wasp proceeded to sting me a second time, and it was only when the lunch bell had been rung and I'd been herded back to the classroom that I sat down heavily on the afforementioned bottom and recieved the third and final sting, that I realised I must have had an intruder in my underpants. Sure enough, when I got home and inspected my rear in the bathroom mirror I discovered the spent wasp and three deep red welts, all standing proud on one buttock.
Knowing the cause of the pain made it infinitely harder to sit down, whereas before it was merely an irritation.
(Wed 19th Jul 2006, 13:41, More)
» Restaurants, Kitchens and Bars... Oh my!
Well I'm not sure if it really counts as 'catering' [it does on my CV] but I worked in a cinema for three and a half years that used to sell out of date sweets, stale popcorn and extremely watered down cola. It wasn't for lack of protesting on the part of my colleagues and I. The manageress just didn't possess a single moral fibre.
Anyway, many's the long Sunday that we would pick up tablemats [an unusual thing to find, even in such an unusual cinema] and play 'Mars Bar Tennis' until the out of date chocolate bar in question was so bent out of shape that it would never sell. It was all about the Karmic realignment rather than the fun of playing tennis at work, of course.
We also discovered that by sandwiching salty popcorn between two weird [and unnervingly moorish] crinkle-cut bacon crisps [called Krinklz no less] it was possible to achieve a flavour and texture remarkably similar to fish fingers. Sadly, about a month or so before I left, the Krinklz factory burnt down, so our fish finger related fun was scuppered.
Don't get me started on the ice cream room.
(Fri 21st Jul 2006, 12:38, More)
Well I'm not sure if it really counts as 'catering' [it does on my CV] but I worked in a cinema for three and a half years that used to sell out of date sweets, stale popcorn and extremely watered down cola. It wasn't for lack of protesting on the part of my colleagues and I. The manageress just didn't possess a single moral fibre.
Anyway, many's the long Sunday that we would pick up tablemats [an unusual thing to find, even in such an unusual cinema] and play 'Mars Bar Tennis' until the out of date chocolate bar in question was so bent out of shape that it would never sell. It was all about the Karmic realignment rather than the fun of playing tennis at work, of course.
We also discovered that by sandwiching salty popcorn between two weird [and unnervingly moorish] crinkle-cut bacon crisps [called Krinklz no less] it was possible to achieve a flavour and texture remarkably similar to fish fingers. Sadly, about a month or so before I left, the Krinklz factory burnt down, so our fish finger related fun was scuppered.
Don't get me started on the ice cream room.
(Fri 21st Jul 2006, 12:38, More)
» School fights
Ahhh.
I believe it was year nine when my mate Rajinder brassily declared that he could take Madzi - one of our years' leading roughians - in a fair fight. As is the way with such claims, every student in the school found out before lunch and it was decided, that to settle the debate Madzi and Rajinder must meet at the local park after school and face off for the title. This event was the talk of every class for the rest of the afternoon, then as soon as the bell tolled about fifty people rushed to the park and formed a circle around the two contestants. The crowd watched in awed silence as Rajinder and Madzi strode in to the ring, chucking their rucksacks to one side and advancing upon each other with ill intent. One fighter circled the other, fists closed, arms crooked and eyebrows furrowed. This preliminary dance continued for about five minutes, at which point Madzi's older, stronger but infinately more peacable brother broke through the crowd and yanked his sibling away with a roll of his eyes, leaving Rajinder looking mightilly releaved, if somewhat wounded by the look of dissapointment on all of our faces as we dispersed to our homes.
(Wed 15th Mar 2006, 16:18, More)
Ahhh.
I believe it was year nine when my mate Rajinder brassily declared that he could take Madzi - one of our years' leading roughians - in a fair fight. As is the way with such claims, every student in the school found out before lunch and it was decided, that to settle the debate Madzi and Rajinder must meet at the local park after school and face off for the title. This event was the talk of every class for the rest of the afternoon, then as soon as the bell tolled about fifty people rushed to the park and formed a circle around the two contestants. The crowd watched in awed silence as Rajinder and Madzi strode in to the ring, chucking their rucksacks to one side and advancing upon each other with ill intent. One fighter circled the other, fists closed, arms crooked and eyebrows furrowed. This preliminary dance continued for about five minutes, at which point Madzi's older, stronger but infinately more peacable brother broke through the crowd and yanked his sibling away with a roll of his eyes, leaving Rajinder looking mightilly releaved, if somewhat wounded by the look of dissapointment on all of our faces as we dispersed to our homes.
(Wed 15th Mar 2006, 16:18, More)
» World's Sickest Joke
Age old limerick.
There once was a man from Nantucket
Whose dick was so long he could suck it.
He declared, rather crass
as he lubed up his ass,
"I've found a nice place I can tuck it."
(Wed 15th Mar 2006, 16:07, More)
Age old limerick.
There once was a man from Nantucket
Whose dick was so long he could suck it.
He declared, rather crass
as he lubed up his ass,
"I've found a nice place I can tuck it."
(Wed 15th Mar 2006, 16:07, More)