b3ta.com user AlohasRyk
You are not logged in. Login or Signup
Profile for AlohasRyk:
Profile Info:


Recent front page messages:


Best answers to questions:

» It was a great holiday, but...

Timing is everything...
Me and my best mate Mike decided during the summer hols from Uni to visit his parents who, at the time, lived in Alicante. Now my Dad's old army regiment were at the time stationed in Berlin, so we figured "2 birds with one stone" and all that, and decided to spend a couple of days in (pre-Wall coming down) Berlin before carrying on down to Spain.

Setting aside for the moment the monumental diversion we had to take to get to Berlin in the first place, off we set. I had some basic 'tourist German', but Mike only knew one phrase: "Meine Beutelmaus hat verstoppfung", which translates as "My wombat has constipation." Remember that phrase...

So - 7am on an East German train just leaving the Hook of Holland and now heading through the 'transport corridor' that let western folk travel overland to the hedonistic sinpots of Berlin, starving hungry as only two students can be, we decide to leave our compartment to look for some sort of breakfast/diner car. Wandering down narrow aisles, just wide enough for one person to walk down. Up ahead, i spot a uniformed chap walking towards us. "Ah!" thinks I. "Must be the guard..." Then I notice he has a sidearm, in a holster...which he is unbuckling...and looking very stern.

I presume he thought we may be East Germans attempting to defect, as he blocked the corridor, one hand on his luger, growling something to us that I basically figured out meant "Get the fuck back in your compartment before I shoot you."

It was at this point that Mike decided to demonstarte his grasp of German by leaning over my shoulder and saying in his best German accent "Meine Beutelmaus hat verstoppfung..." Well, it certainly shut the border police-army-gun-toter up. I swear that phrase just MIGHT have saved our lives!

Ok, maybe not, but it still makes me giggle to this day, over 20 years later. And he's still my best mate (Mike, not the guard - that would be weird.)

Apologies for lack of length, but I always figure that staying power is just as important anyway.
(Fri 22nd Apr 2005, 13:36, More)

» Your Weirdest Teacher

Had plenty. But here goes nothing...
Went to a Catholic boarding school in Dorset, run by proper 'monks' (De la Salle brothers, if you care.) Couple of them were actually very cool (one left the order to marry one of the (female) teachers, another married an ex-6th Form girl I believe).
Brother Kevin (Kevin O'Toole was his 'proper' name), on the other hand, was a fucking paedo. In charge of the Junior boarding Division - basically boys from the ages of 8-11. Molested them whenever they were homesick and went to his room because they were upset about being away from their Mums and Dads. Believe me, I know - I was one of his victims. Filthy fucker. I hope he's dead now of some painful wasting disease. If he ain't, and somehow finds out I have posted this - so sue me you fucker. I'll stand up in court and tell the judge what you were like. And I know I wasn't an isolated incident, cos I walked in on him doing the same thing to some other poor kid. If anyone else knows about him and his activities, you can message me through the site. All I can say now is thank fuck for counselling.
Vent over
(Mon 14th Nov 2005, 23:08, More)

» Guilty Pleasures

Junk Mail
have to go along with Vlad the Impala on this one. Junk mail is...well, the clue is in the title, but the pleasure I get from sending the stuff off to the wrong credit card companies in each others' pre-paid envelopes makes it more than worthwhile.
I call it 'Junk Mail Counter-Terrorism'

(Handy tip - always rip out any reference to your name and address, otherwise the bastards will probably send you twice as much in revenge or something...not that I'm paranoid or owt...)
(Thu 7th Apr 2005, 14:00, More)

» Guilty Pleasures

I'm not guilty, goddammit
Letting my car coast down the exit slopes of multi-storey car-parks, seeing if I can get all the way to the ground floor without putting it in gear once (apart from when I first pull out of the parking space...otherwise it tends to take ages...)

Driving the wrong side of Keep Left signs (there's a great one on a mate's road which is right on a bend and I can see if there is any on-coming traffic, so I just enjoy the thrill without actually putting anyone or myself in mortal danger.)

Peanut-butter-and-marmite sandwiches, preferably three-slicers, at about 11:30 at night. Mmmmmm. (Trust me - if you like both separately, try them together...)

Hearing a song on the radio, and seeing if I can sing another song over the top of it that fits in well (try singing the opening lines of the RHCP's "By The Way" over The Stereophonics' "Dakota" - it fits perfectly if you start at the right point.) It's kind of like being a DJ in your head - and it winds up my workmate because then he can't get it out of his head! Chortle.
(Fri 8th Apr 2005, 13:25, More)

» Now, there was no need for that...

Protection or weaponry?
Nobby Nobody - bet you wished you'd been wearing some of that "nancy padding" (which, for the ill-informed, is there because - unlike in rugby (which I also like, BTW - none of this parochial "my game is better than your game" playground bollocks) - American Football players get hit at full speed on EVERY SINGLE PLAY. Not just the guy with the ball.
Dissing things without fulling understanding the finer details - definitely no need for that!
(Mon 20th Jun 2005, 15:38, More)
[read all their answers]