» Mugged

Mugger unprepared for northern feistiness
My girlfriend was coming home from the pictures on her own one Friday night and the train had just pulled into Deptford when a young man walked passed the seat she was in and casually helped himself to her handbag. She immediately shouted “Stop, thief! He’s got my bag!” but of course, it being London nobody stepped up.

She jumped off the train and began running down the platform, pausing to look over her shoulder, naively expecting to see several beefy lads rushing to her aid. No such luck, and this put her out of step so that she fell over spectacularly, skinning her knees, elbows etc and winding herself. Not easily deterred (the new Gucci wallet she had saved for months for was in the bag) she got back up and continued the pursuit.

The young man running off with her bag was actually quite a portly chap and she quickly gained on him, although she did need to climb over some railings (being fairly short) in order to follow him across the roof he was now running along.

Now, she has mild asthma, and when she finally caught him at the other end of the roof she was beginning to wheeze a bit. As she got closer to the mugger, she realised that he was in fact just a kid (no more than 15) and he looked pretty scared when he saw her. Apparently small northern women don’t routinely run muggers down across roofs in South East London.

Anyway, she decided to play on his fear by putting on her wheezing and making it sound much worse than it was to see if she could rattle him further. In between gasps for breath she said, “You’ve got to give me my bag – it’s got my medication in it.” This appeal had the desired effect (must’ve been his first mugging or something) and he meekly handed back her bag. I’d like to say that she proceeded to give him a good kicking, but in actual fact she just sat down and cried while he ran off. That said, the story had a great deal of mileage in the school where she teaches, and she was nicknamed Buffy the Vampire Slayer for weeks.
(Sun 18th Jun 2006, 20:19, More)

» Vomit Pt2

Drink Bowling - bad idea
Strike = top up the 'penalty' glass with 2 fingers of your own Stella
Spare = one finger into the glass
5 or less = drink half the glass
0 = down the glass

Play well = drink less = play better
Play badly = drink more = play worse = drink more = puke everywhere

Was supposed to be meeting the (to-be) wife and friends for dinner. Was found asleep on the bathroom floor, having emptied a train carriage by throwing up in my hands. Don't remember getting home.

Managed to swap my bowling shoes for my trainers though. Result.
(Fri 8th Jan 2010, 13:55, More)

» Not having sex

A cold rainy Saturday in November
In my girlfriend's room at university. First years, miles away from parents, we'd recently discovered the noble tradition of fucking like rabbits. We'd had a nice afternoon doing some shit or other, heading back to hers before dinner. She wanted to shower before eating, and suggested I join her for some fun. Communal bathrooms, so a nice bit of risk added to the situation.

However, being Saturday afternoon, I had one eye on the clock. As it was approaching quarter to five, I knew the time was near - sports report on radio 5, and the final scores. "Go ahead" I told her, "I'll join you in five - that way no-one will know we're in together". Took ages to get to the final scores. Just as they were reading them out for our division, about 15 minutes later, she stormed back in, dripping (not in a good way), and kicked me out.

It was 1997, I had to wait till the next day to find out the result.

We lost.
(Fri 23rd May 2014, 20:09, More)

» Phobias

Not me, my father-in-law's dog
Is terrified of hot air balloons.

Walking on the moor once he spotted one, legged it, and hid in a ditch for 4 hours. The f-i-l was not impressed.
(Thu 17th Apr 2008, 0:09, More)