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- a member for 19 years, 9 months and 5 days
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» Embarrassing Injuries
f*cking stupid kids
I still am a fairly idiotic twat at the best of times, but I've thankfully gotten over the stage when I was under 10 of being a manic, hyperactive and utterly brainless twat.
I was running through my lower school when I was about 7 and ran into the main corridor linking the 2 halves of the school. Long corridor, you can see right to the end. Which is where I saw my mate Scott Blanks come running from, heading right towards me. We could both see each other completely, which makes the mystery of how we then ran full tilt right into each other even more wondrous.
Scott ended up with a fractured cheek, I came off lightly with a black left eye.
Which is fairly uninteresting until I add to this that while I was off school for a day to recover from the concussion, I decided it would be great fun to try walking down my home street with my good eye closed. Spang! straight into the street sign (I was only little), and an immediate black eye in the other socket.
Bloody little twunt....
(Thu 2nd Sep 2004, 17:19, More)
f*cking stupid kids
I still am a fairly idiotic twat at the best of times, but I've thankfully gotten over the stage when I was under 10 of being a manic, hyperactive and utterly brainless twat.
I was running through my lower school when I was about 7 and ran into the main corridor linking the 2 halves of the school. Long corridor, you can see right to the end. Which is where I saw my mate Scott Blanks come running from, heading right towards me. We could both see each other completely, which makes the mystery of how we then ran full tilt right into each other even more wondrous.
Scott ended up with a fractured cheek, I came off lightly with a black left eye.
Which is fairly uninteresting until I add to this that while I was off school for a day to recover from the concussion, I decided it would be great fun to try walking down my home street with my good eye closed. Spang! straight into the street sign (I was only little), and an immediate black eye in the other socket.
Bloody little twunt....
(Thu 2nd Sep 2004, 17:19, More)
» My computer gave away my secrets
Bloody newfandangled P2P apps....
I rarely use torrents anymore, having moved on to usenet instead, but I still potter about in the seedy world of porn a la bit torrent.
A few days ago, I downloaded a new BT app to try out, having been fed up of Azureus' resource-hogging shenanigans. This was called 'ptorrent' (except cut the top off the p - I have no idea how to type that, let alone say it).
All is going well, as it minimises to the system tray when you minimise it, and I've hidden the shared folder well enough so that my missus, who's not too tech savvy, isn't likely to find it. And so I set about downloading some filth.
I come home about 9 hours later to find that this 'wondeful' little program has cheerfully ratted on me by telling anyone keen enough to turn my monitor on that it has 'Finished Downloading "One In The Pink, One In The Stink"* in 2.5 hours' in a nice little pop-up balloon emnating, pointed-finger style, from the system tray. Fucksocks.
Cue the usual 'this bloody computers got some sort of virus, dammit, bloody thing, grrr' type talk, and much earnest virus-checking, just to look good. I think it worked...
*may not actually be the name of the dirty material. Or, it might very well be.
(Wed 15th Feb 2006, 20:28, More)
Bloody newfandangled P2P apps....
I rarely use torrents anymore, having moved on to usenet instead, but I still potter about in the seedy world of porn a la bit torrent.
A few days ago, I downloaded a new BT app to try out, having been fed up of Azureus' resource-hogging shenanigans. This was called 'ptorrent' (except cut the top off the p - I have no idea how to type that, let alone say it).
All is going well, as it minimises to the system tray when you minimise it, and I've hidden the shared folder well enough so that my missus, who's not too tech savvy, isn't likely to find it. And so I set about downloading some filth.
I come home about 9 hours later to find that this 'wondeful' little program has cheerfully ratted on me by telling anyone keen enough to turn my monitor on that it has 'Finished Downloading "One In The Pink, One In The Stink"* in 2.5 hours' in a nice little pop-up balloon emnating, pointed-finger style, from the system tray. Fucksocks.
Cue the usual 'this bloody computers got some sort of virus, dammit, bloody thing, grrr' type talk, and much earnest virus-checking, just to look good. I think it worked...
*may not actually be the name of the dirty material. Or, it might very well be.
(Wed 15th Feb 2006, 20:28, More)
» Stupid Tourists
Even our bestest relations are dumb
Not quite stupid tourists, rather stupid locals being taken advantage of by cunning visitors...
Me n the missus lived in a rather nice part of Melbourne for quite a long while (Middle Park if you know it, halfway between the city and Kilda) but had never really had the chance to go out for a local piss-up. So we set out one night and found a local pokies n booze combo bar right across the road from the seafront.
I order lager. Missus orders a baileys. Mystified look from barman, who looks at a 1 and a half litre bottle that's obviously been lurking behind the bar, undisturbed by womankind for years. Mystified barman then pours HALF A PINT of Baileys into a glass and say 'is that about right?', before charging her about the same as my pot of Carlton Cold.
Needless to say, I switched drinks, to smirks from the poof-hating locals, but to merriment from me n mrs phookoo, who got rat-arsed on about 15 dollars (7-odd quid)
No apologies for length, which wasn't much anyway after nearly a litre of liqeur.
(Wed 13th Jul 2005, 1:18, More)
Even our bestest relations are dumb
Not quite stupid tourists, rather stupid locals being taken advantage of by cunning visitors...
Me n the missus lived in a rather nice part of Melbourne for quite a long while (Middle Park if you know it, halfway between the city and Kilda) but had never really had the chance to go out for a local piss-up. So we set out one night and found a local pokies n booze combo bar right across the road from the seafront.
I order lager. Missus orders a baileys. Mystified look from barman, who looks at a 1 and a half litre bottle that's obviously been lurking behind the bar, undisturbed by womankind for years. Mystified barman then pours HALF A PINT of Baileys into a glass and say 'is that about right?', before charging her about the same as my pot of Carlton Cold.
Needless to say, I switched drinks, to smirks from the poof-hating locals, but to merriment from me n mrs phookoo, who got rat-arsed on about 15 dollars (7-odd quid)
No apologies for length, which wasn't much anyway after nearly a litre of liqeur.
(Wed 13th Jul 2005, 1:18, More)
» Teenage Poetry
An ode called Seperate Toilets
Never a fan of teen poetry, but me and some mates had a 'band' called Yellowhat back when I was covered in acne that even now apparently has reunions. We were shit, but tried hard. My opus was this song, which you have to imagine with a slow doo-wop beat on a bontempi or my mates dads hammond organ, and 'wop-wop, a doo-wop-wop' between every rhyming couplet -
Just 'cos I've got the shits
Don't mean I don't love you
Runny and dripping squits
Don't mean I don't want you
(chorus)
Just 'cos my areshole has seen better days
Don't mean I can't love you in different ways
And so I've got to get used to us
Crapping in seperate toilets
(bum doo wop-wop, a doo wop wop)
The stench of my toilet mess
Is off-putting, that I know
Your plan has failed, I guess
To stop my botty flow
(chorus)
I've started storing my shit in large water
tanks
You've signed up a deal with Armitage Shanks
And so I've got to get used to us
Crapping in seperate toilets
(bummer doo-wop-wop, a-doo wop wop)
Nice eh? We had another song called 'Africa', which went
Africaaaaaa
I've never been there
I've got some hair
Tickle me, under there....
(Sun 14th Aug 2005, 16:14, More)
An ode called Seperate Toilets
Never a fan of teen poetry, but me and some mates had a 'band' called Yellowhat back when I was covered in acne that even now apparently has reunions. We were shit, but tried hard. My opus was this song, which you have to imagine with a slow doo-wop beat on a bontempi or my mates dads hammond organ, and 'wop-wop, a doo-wop-wop' between every rhyming couplet -
Just 'cos I've got the shits
Don't mean I don't love you
Runny and dripping squits
Don't mean I don't want you
(chorus)
Just 'cos my areshole has seen better days
Don't mean I can't love you in different ways
And so I've got to get used to us
Crapping in seperate toilets
(bum doo wop-wop, a doo wop wop)
The stench of my toilet mess
Is off-putting, that I know
Your plan has failed, I guess
To stop my botty flow
(chorus)
I've started storing my shit in large water
tanks
You've signed up a deal with Armitage Shanks
And so I've got to get used to us
Crapping in seperate toilets
(bummer doo-wop-wop, a-doo wop wop)
Nice eh? We had another song called 'Africa', which went
Africaaaaaa
I've never been there
I've got some hair
Tickle me, under there....
(Sun 14th Aug 2005, 16:14, More)