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» Well, that taught 'em
Shit the bonnet
Last year in my gorgeous student flat, 4 others and I lived with a girl called Kirsten*. First year of Uni with the girl was an absolute breeze, but as second year came around and we all decided to live together, it was clear how much of a twazzock she really was. During our yearlong stay, she decided to 'go off' meat, open her legs for anything, and if no-one was listening to her constant stream of downright LIES, begin shouting. One night her and her new boyfriend were staying at his house, so the rest of us invited a few mates around for a poker night. Green felt, Red Stripe and 97p cards ahoy! Someone got onto the subject of Kirsten, and how we all hated her. Some bright spark had the idea of putting a lovely big steak under her bedsheets, or changing her Quorn for proper sausages, but the conversation soon started to die off. Meanwhile my bowels were rumbling, it was time for a number 2. As left the room, I jokingly remarked, 'this shit would look so much better on Kirstens bonnet'. Quick as a flash my flatmate stood up, dragged me by the arm down the outside steps and pointed at her car. So, without hesitation, and with a few tins running through my bloodstream, i squatted. The next thing I really remember is the next morning. Her boyfriend comes into our flat absolutley livid. It turns out it had snowed overnight. And all that could be seen of my evacuated bowels was a small brown crest at the top of a pile of snow. Apparently, as they came home from the previous night, the boyfriend spotted the mini mountain on her bonnet, and assumed it was a mound made by someone makin snowballs. He then proceded to 'brush' it off her bonnet. What I would have given to see his face, as his bare hand uncovered a perfect coil of my home-made frozen bum-log. Weeks afterwards, Kirsten* continued to tell people that someone was after her, and the police were on the case because she was sure she was a target (for what?). A private lesson that she didn't receive i guess, but nevertheless it made our stay there more pleasurable, as the lie-machine went into overdrive, and we just sniggered to ourselves.
*100% accurate
(Wed 2nd May 2007, 1:24, More)
Shit the bonnet
Last year in my gorgeous student flat, 4 others and I lived with a girl called Kirsten*. First year of Uni with the girl was an absolute breeze, but as second year came around and we all decided to live together, it was clear how much of a twazzock she really was. During our yearlong stay, she decided to 'go off' meat, open her legs for anything, and if no-one was listening to her constant stream of downright LIES, begin shouting. One night her and her new boyfriend were staying at his house, so the rest of us invited a few mates around for a poker night. Green felt, Red Stripe and 97p cards ahoy! Someone got onto the subject of Kirsten, and how we all hated her. Some bright spark had the idea of putting a lovely big steak under her bedsheets, or changing her Quorn for proper sausages, but the conversation soon started to die off. Meanwhile my bowels were rumbling, it was time for a number 2. As left the room, I jokingly remarked, 'this shit would look so much better on Kirstens bonnet'. Quick as a flash my flatmate stood up, dragged me by the arm down the outside steps and pointed at her car. So, without hesitation, and with a few tins running through my bloodstream, i squatted. The next thing I really remember is the next morning. Her boyfriend comes into our flat absolutley livid. It turns out it had snowed overnight. And all that could be seen of my evacuated bowels was a small brown crest at the top of a pile of snow. Apparently, as they came home from the previous night, the boyfriend spotted the mini mountain on her bonnet, and assumed it was a mound made by someone makin snowballs. He then proceded to 'brush' it off her bonnet. What I would have given to see his face, as his bare hand uncovered a perfect coil of my home-made frozen bum-log. Weeks afterwards, Kirsten* continued to tell people that someone was after her, and the police were on the case because she was sure she was a target (for what?). A private lesson that she didn't receive i guess, but nevertheless it made our stay there more pleasurable, as the lie-machine went into overdrive, and we just sniggered to ourselves.
*100% accurate
(Wed 2nd May 2007, 1:24, More)
» I was drunk when I bought this
Rubbish is never
bought when drunk! In those few sober moments of clarity between drinking sessions, everything bought when drunk turns into gold-dust. I even treasure a fly-mo which i bought for a tenner from a bloke in his back garden at 3am :)
come to think of it he was probably a burglar
and it never worked
(Fri 10th Jun 2005, 0:54, More)
Rubbish is never
bought when drunk! In those few sober moments of clarity between drinking sessions, everything bought when drunk turns into gold-dust. I even treasure a fly-mo which i bought for a tenner from a bloke in his back garden at 3am :)
come to think of it he was probably a burglar
and it never worked
(Fri 10th Jun 2005, 0:54, More)