» Evidence that you're getting old

Oh crap...
When I started to see what my mum meant by 'all this boom boom music'.
(Thu 28th Oct 2004, 13:15, More)

» Restaurants, Kitchens and Bars... Oh my!

On the National Express...
When you're life's a mess...your stomach will soon be too.
I used to take these busses regularly and some bastard invariably threw up, leaving the pleasant odour of cold vomit hanging around for the last couple of hours of the journey.
My friend told me a story which might go some way to explaining this obscene phenomenon...
She was friends with a gay guy who was a steward on one such bus. He was having it away with one of the drivers at the time, and they fucked on the bus before the passengers arrived. They were also responsible for the food preperation.
Ahem...you can see where this is going can't you...
So one day they are fresh out of lube and they look around for a substitute. The tub of stork margarine for the sarnies catches their eye...so they butter themselves up and start playing silly buggers. Yes. And then they thought it would be incredibly kinky (and apparently it was) to scrape off said butter and use it in the sarnies.
I'm so sorry, you didn't need to know that...

Heh heh.

P.S. I do apologise for the tenuous link to the proposed subject-matter, but hell, people need to know.
(Tue 25th Jul 2006, 9:23, More)

» I hurt my rude bits

Not I, merci dieu...
My boyfrind's brother's girlfriend.
So the out-laws were giving me a lecutre (they are kinda french, so I didn't mind) on the importance of doing what you're told when on a boat by way of the fable of this poor wee sod.
It transpired that they were having a family outing on the boat and decided to go for a swim. This chick was not entirely confident of her swimming prowess and decided to jump down holding onto the rope off the end of the boat. Holding it between her thighs for extra safety.
The jump split her clit in half.
As my boyfriend (probably quite accurately) recalls, 'she was sooo seeeek'.
I also saw a small boy fall down the trunk of a knobbly 10ft mutant holly bush. I laughed as he ran off screaming for warm bussom of mother. I still snicker about that to this day. He was a twat.
(Sun 16th Jul 2006, 16:04, More)

» Strange things you've been paid to do

jobs you wouldn't imagine exsisted...
12-hour night shifts in summer in a salad factory, standing (too cold in factory to legally be allowed to sit) by a conveyor belt squeezing plastic bags of salad to check the seal.
And theen, 12 hour nightshifts in a soft drink factory in Yorkshire, next to the machine that cooks the paint on the cans. My job was to play 'go fish' with a small crowbar to make sure the cans went in upright. Also involved chemically cleaning a printing machine. No experience necessary! Left because the yorkshire chavman-filled factory was a frightening place for an 20yo blonde to be at night.
Also worked in a paper-printing factory, pushing cutouts from the spare paper. Bloody hands resulted. Gloves (reluctantly) given to us on the 3rd day, to cover our bloody stumps. Wouldn't want to get body fluids on the latest mortgage offer for NatWest now would we...
Sheet-folding for the local hospital. Favourite game? (scuse crossover post, know this has bindun) Guess the stain! (blood, more blood, shit, dunno, looks like a stomach-pumping session, blood etc.) The dirty laundry section was worse, colostomy bags and syringes wrapped in sheets. Am now immune to electric shocks.
Then, tailor, putting zips in trousers belonging to old men. Usually with inbuilt stains. And the stuff tha comes out when you pull a zip out...you don't want to even guess. Severe 'Filth'-style excema can be the only explination.
Bestest one...
At a make-up factory, in dire need of new machinery. We put the eyeliner bottle together by hand, first you fill it with a tiny little vacuum filler, then bash on the plug, screw on the lid, apply barcode (a finer art than you could ever imagine) and stick it through the daycoder. Do you not get the impression that a little more care on the sterility front would have been taken? Shit no. Oh, and if you were lucky you got to play on the big machines on the brushers (guess what they do...that's right...they put the brushes on!) which was great because no-one could hear you over the Metropolis-style machine and you were on a high chair. So all shift you could play captn startrek, complete with soundtrack and mechanical crises. "What seems to be the problem, Dave the Engineer?" "Ah no captn, she willnae brush no more, we gotta brush stuck in the anus of the machine, the dilithium crystals are shot to shit!!" etc. etc. This caught on as soon as people realised I was harmless and not convinced of my status as captain, (they wanted a go) so everyone on the machine got to play. Huzzah! Another favourite, "Death of Brian" (shopping list style, you have to remember all the alphabetical deaths before your letter), the factory idiot. Potential causer of many a lawsuit, but had been there since 1841 so firing him was more trouble than just letting him retire, but making sure there was always a fire-extinguisher handy.
In every job that must be done there is an element of fun...except mine.
Glad you liked the q btw ;)
(Sat 2nd Oct 2004, 23:38, More)

» Shoddy Presents

eh?!
My father was quite harshly in denial that I was growing up...
For my 15th birthday he gave me a rag doll. Not a classy, victorian style one (which I wouldn't have liked, but it would have meant some effort was involved) it had a label on it to confirm my suspicions it was from Bewise. For my 16th I got a $20 bill (I was living in the UK) that my father couldn't exchange.
For my 14th birthday I'd come home from school a little bemused and slightly upset (trying not to act like a spoiled child) that nothing was forthcoming presents-wise. Finally I got up the courage to ask, and my mother snaps 'we only just bought you a new bed!' This was 4 months before, and I had to get a new one because I'd had the old one since I was six and a leg had snapped. Is a bed really a birthday present? Luxury indeed. mmm.
I also had to arrange my birthday parties from the age of 7 onwards, which I was allowed to attend between preparing food. I still end up in tears on my birthday.
I'm spoiling my kids I just decided.
Oh yeah, and my ex got me an extendable file for my birthday. I got him a DVD player. Boys, please never buy anything so obscenely practical for your gf's birthday unless you want to spend the night alone. And possibly a few years after...
I got a kitten this year...things are looking up!
(Sat 25th Sep 2004, 1:15, More)