Profile for ..wil:
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- a member for 18 years, 11 months and 27 days
- it's my b3ta birthday in 2 days
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Recent front page messages:
Inspired by links TomChem's post
b3ta.com/links/Scouts_to_have_sex_education_classes
(Tue 5th Apr 2011, 9:07, More)
b3ta.com/links/Scouts_to_have_sex_education_classes
(Tue 5th Apr 2011, 9:07, More)
Well I have to really...
*edit* unfeasibly big version: www.b3tards.com/u/420c52b7900bd7084f02/skug-kitteh-big.gif
(Thu 4th Feb 2010, 11:06, More)
*edit* unfeasibly big version: www.b3tards.com/u/420c52b7900bd7084f02/skug-kitteh-big.gif
(Thu 4th Feb 2010, 11:06, More)
Look, just eat it like a big boy,
and THEN you can have some pudding!
Previously
(Thu 4th Jun 2009, 16:04, More)
and THEN you can have some pudding!
Previously
(Thu 4th Jun 2009, 16:04, More)
Extreme cheese-wire ski jumping!
Will they duck at just the right moment!? NOT THIS TIME!
(Thu 28th May 2009, 19:01, More)
Will they duck at just the right moment!? NOT THIS TIME!
(Thu 28th May 2009, 19:01, More)
Attempting to actually do something new with this picture, but may in fact be just hoeing old ground...
made it now anyways...
(Mon 27th Oct 2008, 1:21, More)
made it now anyways...
(Mon 27th Oct 2008, 1:21, More)
Ning, I made this last night:
CFB and sexy but nearly a meg
I think maybe Skug's cat is having a bad day...
(Fri 10th Oct 2008, 10:13, More)
CFB and sexy but nearly a meg
I think maybe Skug's cat is having a bad day...
(Fri 10th Oct 2008, 10:13, More)
The big hit of the 1930s...
*edit* now aminated and why not!? :)
Original jpeg
(Wed 24th Sep 2008, 23:43, More)
*edit* now aminated and why not!? :)
Original jpeg
(Wed 24th Sep 2008, 23:43, More)
This took all day to do...
Sing 'On The Good Ship lollipop' while viewing!
home.nycap.rr.com/juanvlz/lollipop.mp3
400k less killed by optimisation version here
(Mon 8th Oct 2007, 17:00, More)
Sing 'On The Good Ship lollipop' while viewing!
home.nycap.rr.com/juanvlz/lollipop.mp3
400k less killed by optimisation version here
(Mon 8th Oct 2007, 17:00, More)
Best answers to questions:
» I Quit!
The M&S underwear crotch bulge game!
I worked for M&S over Christmas, helping out during the rush and getting some much needed funds, it was only for a few months so hardly 'I quit' material but towards the end I was doing a lot of long late nights where you're basically just waiting for the next lorry full of xmas goods to arrive at bastard-o-clock in the morning to be hurriedly unloaded, categorised and delivered and such, and then more idling about alone doing shop tidying, waiting.
So, in the interim lengths of inactivity, you get bored, and I'm one of those guys who really doesn't do bored well. Regular b3tans will know this makes me do increasingly extreme expressions of my sick sense of humour to keep me entertained, this usually comes out pretty creatively on here, but in a large department store on my own...
I started making stuff out of all the debris lying around, people would find 'foam dollies' behind me, same process as making a corn doll but with packing foam, and there was a lot of Xmas debris around too so little random Xmas decorations starting popping up in various departments for the staff to wonder about come morning. Most of my creations disappeared into the bins from whence they came pretty quickly, but some of my better ones stuck around a while. These are just examples, and I got increasingly creative and obsessive as the boredom started to get to me just from trying to stay sane.
One day early on I noticed the mens underwear department had four of those plastic models that were just legs and a torso, but they had no crotch! What kind of idiot tries to sell underwear to your average already insecure male with models that appear to be neutered I thought, 'Buy our underwear, as modeled by Eunichs!' (hey, it's how my head works). So I went around and added rolled up balls of foam packing (the stuff like white polystyrene sheeting) to them.
In a few days the underwear got changed and the packing got removed, so I added some more padding back into them, but having noticed this now the day staff removed it immediately, and so a contest was born!
I would try and time how long I thought it would take for the day staff to stop watching the models, then pack them out again, and see how long the foam balls stayed in there, and to make it more interesting I would slowly increase the size of them night by night, to see how silly-big they could get before they were removed. I once went for one whole week this way and I took a mate in to show him, we were giggling like loons amongst Xmas shoppers as he took pictures with his phone of these bulging underwear displays. You had to be there.
In my last few weeks I started doing 'Realistic Bulges ©' by actually making a sort of false cock out of the foam and packing tape, I actually got so good at it that by the time I applied them you could tell the religion of each dummy thru the underwear! Then I got really silly and had themes, like trying to give them characters (drawing faces on them & such). Christmas was an obvious one, two baubles and a small balloon, two sparkly fir cones and a bit of wire tree branch, you get the idea. I found myself picking up stuff that fell on the floor during work duties 'cos they looked vaguely male-genitalia-like and saving them for quiet moments of crude cock crafting. I do recall a few times of sitting on the loo during break and idly making one from the contents of my pockets. I'm sure Freud would have a field day but if you know me well you'll know I just aren't in any way squeemish about such things and it amuses me that others are.
Finally I went to see my friend Carol who worked at a sex shop around the corner, whom I knew as a friend but also from working there now and then cash in hand, and she had some novelty items called 'Sticky Willies'. They were small flaccid cock and balls made of that odd rubber that you can throw at windows and it'll stick and crawl down it (there was a big craze once for octopodes). They were a little smaller than your average cock but flesh coloured and quite realistic, and she let me have some cheap, one for each underwear model (4), and on my last day, after a few days of doing nothing in the hope they would forget for a while, they were applied.
I went in expectantly the next working day and they'd removed the underwear display entirely.
I wonder if I broke anyone's mind...
Length? Blaarb!
(Sat 24th May 2008, 12:01, More)
The M&S underwear crotch bulge game!
I worked for M&S over Christmas, helping out during the rush and getting some much needed funds, it was only for a few months so hardly 'I quit' material but towards the end I was doing a lot of long late nights where you're basically just waiting for the next lorry full of xmas goods to arrive at bastard-o-clock in the morning to be hurriedly unloaded, categorised and delivered and such, and then more idling about alone doing shop tidying, waiting.
So, in the interim lengths of inactivity, you get bored, and I'm one of those guys who really doesn't do bored well. Regular b3tans will know this makes me do increasingly extreme expressions of my sick sense of humour to keep me entertained, this usually comes out pretty creatively on here, but in a large department store on my own...
I started making stuff out of all the debris lying around, people would find 'foam dollies' behind me, same process as making a corn doll but with packing foam, and there was a lot of Xmas debris around too so little random Xmas decorations starting popping up in various departments for the staff to wonder about come morning. Most of my creations disappeared into the bins from whence they came pretty quickly, but some of my better ones stuck around a while. These are just examples, and I got increasingly creative and obsessive as the boredom started to get to me just from trying to stay sane.
One day early on I noticed the mens underwear department had four of those plastic models that were just legs and a torso, but they had no crotch! What kind of idiot tries to sell underwear to your average already insecure male with models that appear to be neutered I thought, 'Buy our underwear, as modeled by Eunichs!' (hey, it's how my head works). So I went around and added rolled up balls of foam packing (the stuff like white polystyrene sheeting) to them.
In a few days the underwear got changed and the packing got removed, so I added some more padding back into them, but having noticed this now the day staff removed it immediately, and so a contest was born!
I would try and time how long I thought it would take for the day staff to stop watching the models, then pack them out again, and see how long the foam balls stayed in there, and to make it more interesting I would slowly increase the size of them night by night, to see how silly-big they could get before they were removed. I once went for one whole week this way and I took a mate in to show him, we were giggling like loons amongst Xmas shoppers as he took pictures with his phone of these bulging underwear displays. You had to be there.
In my last few weeks I started doing 'Realistic Bulges ©' by actually making a sort of false cock out of the foam and packing tape, I actually got so good at it that by the time I applied them you could tell the religion of each dummy thru the underwear! Then I got really silly and had themes, like trying to give them characters (drawing faces on them & such). Christmas was an obvious one, two baubles and a small balloon, two sparkly fir cones and a bit of wire tree branch, you get the idea. I found myself picking up stuff that fell on the floor during work duties 'cos they looked vaguely male-genitalia-like and saving them for quiet moments of crude cock crafting. I do recall a few times of sitting on the loo during break and idly making one from the contents of my pockets. I'm sure Freud would have a field day but if you know me well you'll know I just aren't in any way squeemish about such things and it amuses me that others are.
Finally I went to see my friend Carol who worked at a sex shop around the corner, whom I knew as a friend but also from working there now and then cash in hand, and she had some novelty items called 'Sticky Willies'. They were small flaccid cock and balls made of that odd rubber that you can throw at windows and it'll stick and crawl down it (there was a big craze once for octopodes). They were a little smaller than your average cock but flesh coloured and quite realistic, and she let me have some cheap, one for each underwear model (4), and on my last day, after a few days of doing nothing in the hope they would forget for a while, they were applied.
I went in expectantly the next working day and they'd removed the underwear display entirely.
I wonder if I broke anyone's mind...
Length? Blaarb!
(Sat 24th May 2008, 12:01, More)
» Voyeurism
Voyeurs, FIGHT!!
Ok, this a long one, ooer vicar, but I've dined out on this story in many a pub exchange and it always gets a good laugh, so try and stay with me.
In York I lived 3 floors up and the back of our place where the bedroom was located was opposite the back end of all the hotels in the next street along. When retiring to bed due to the fact our bed was against a wall on 2 sides and my other half was normally already in there on the outside edge, I had to stand on the end of it then 'fall back' in to get into it, and as the end of the bed was right next to the window and we always kept our curtains open for airflow in the summer, the last event of the night was normally to have a quick exchange of partial to full nudity with those opposite doing the same thing, normally nothing too unusual or shocking, often a bit of a wave and a giggle, especially with German tourists about.
Anyway, at some point I find myself in an odd situation, some chap opposite I notice is having sex with some skinny lass with an incredible amount of extremely bright lighting and the large window wide open, curtains back, exposed to the planet, with lots of unnecessary noise. Well, obviously, you take a look, don't you, and this becomes a regular thing about every other week, but after just a few nights I realise this is a bit odd, especially as the skinny lass gets replaced by another equally skinny lass each session, and having noticed the video camera one night it dawns on me he's shooting cheap lumpy porn, with him as the main star!
Well, not exactly a problem you may think, except said DIY pornstar starts to object to me seeing his performance, and we get this rather bizarre situation where when he's doing his thing and I'm about to get into bed, he starts running to the window, bits wobbling everywhere, and ranting at me about being a 'Durty little c*nt' and such!
Pot, kettle, black and all that, and I'm thinking 'Well I'll be damned if I'm gonna turn off me lights and draw me curtains to hide myself from some evidently bonkers naked bloke who feels the need to do it open to the world, then gets pugilistic that folks can see it, especially when he's presumabley gonna distribute the resultant video!' so I keep on doing my thing as always, sometimes lingering longer just to annoy the objectional little twunt, he keeps escalating his victim rant thing, and after a while going to bed or even just walking by the window becomes an annoying trial-by-naked-nutter, the main phrase of annoyance being 'You wanna see a REAL MAN, do ya, eh!?', when we're talking some paunchy Paul Calf lookalike replete with moustache and mullet and a knob like an Iceland frozen carrot.
Any wonder he ain't hitting the bigtime...
So, what to do?
After discussing this 'problem' with friends one night in the pub and going through alsorts of possible ways to annoy this fellow back, from too silly ones like 'Have better sex than him by your window' to too serious ones like 'Go tell the police about it', and none of them feeling quite right, someone suggests 'Get a mate who's hung like a donkey to stand in front of your window and make him feel inadequate!'.
Now at that time I don't know any mates hung like a donkey, least of all any willing to come stand in me window on demand at 11pm at night, but this does gives me an idea:
Our windows are about 25-30 metres apart, quite a distance, and my window, unlike his, has a net curtain that further obscures things and the light is very much behind me, so I hit upon an idea to make a comedy pair of huge cock pants!
Yes, you heard me!
I got a pair of small briefs and some of that flesh coloured sticky bandage stuff (like plasters on a roll) and covered them in a strip of it at the front top edge to camouflage them, then a pair of old socks wrapped in more of same, and bish bash bosh, a wearable floppy knob to shame John Holmes and Jeff Stryker combined! Of course, close up it looks like a bairns arm that's been thru a mangle and a visit to very understaffed A&E, but from that distance and backlit...
So, on to the show, well, I must admit, I rather started to enjoy myself at this point, and I got right into my part, fnarr fnarr, and decided I would wrap a towel about myself and pretend I had just left the shower and 'accidentally' lose the towel at the window thereby exposing said appendage in a 'natural manner'.
So that night just before bed I look out for him doing his thing with my lights off, yup there they are, lights blazing, faux exclaiming away for the camera doggy style, facing the window, so I put me Frankenstein's Monster's Cock Pants on and wrap a towel round my waist, my curtains open, and on go the lights for the show.
A casual walk to the window, quick sly check without being obvious to see if I've attracted his attention and there he is, he's dropped his fellow 'actress' already, she's looking like 'Oh lord not this again' head on arm, probably thinking fag break time, and he's leaning out of his window ready and waiting, so I turn to our curtains and start tugging at them, but ooh, ooh they're stuck, and he's off, bait taken, he's ranting he's raving and doing his how very dare you thing, but gosh, these curtains aren't moving are they, so he's going ballistic by this point, self induced indignant enragement like a Daily Mail reader outside a Paediatrician, so I take my other hand off the towel to aid moving these troublesome drapes, thus unleashing the beast, who makes a proud silhouette in my net curtains!
Suddenly, we have silence.
There is a second or two of confusion on my part, I continue for a moment in my 'Stuck curtains' mime, fake schlong a schwinging, then, too curious anymore not to see what's going off, I look down, and I find he's looking up, she's sitting on her haunches doing the same, our eyes meet, and there is a brief frozen moment where nobody knows what to do and I wonder if this was all a good idea after all, when suddenly, bang zoom, he launches himself off his sill backwards, slams the sash window shut, and if it's possible to slam curtains too, he does!
SCORE!! I punch the air, and that was the end of the problem, never saw or heard from him again.
I didn't even get a chance to shout 'Sorry for the length, mate!' ;)
Tee hee hee...
(Fri 12th Oct 2007, 11:29, More)
Voyeurs, FIGHT!!
Ok, this a long one, ooer vicar, but I've dined out on this story in many a pub exchange and it always gets a good laugh, so try and stay with me.
In York I lived 3 floors up and the back of our place where the bedroom was located was opposite the back end of all the hotels in the next street along. When retiring to bed due to the fact our bed was against a wall on 2 sides and my other half was normally already in there on the outside edge, I had to stand on the end of it then 'fall back' in to get into it, and as the end of the bed was right next to the window and we always kept our curtains open for airflow in the summer, the last event of the night was normally to have a quick exchange of partial to full nudity with those opposite doing the same thing, normally nothing too unusual or shocking, often a bit of a wave and a giggle, especially with German tourists about.
Anyway, at some point I find myself in an odd situation, some chap opposite I notice is having sex with some skinny lass with an incredible amount of extremely bright lighting and the large window wide open, curtains back, exposed to the planet, with lots of unnecessary noise. Well, obviously, you take a look, don't you, and this becomes a regular thing about every other week, but after just a few nights I realise this is a bit odd, especially as the skinny lass gets replaced by another equally skinny lass each session, and having noticed the video camera one night it dawns on me he's shooting cheap lumpy porn, with him as the main star!
Well, not exactly a problem you may think, except said DIY pornstar starts to object to me seeing his performance, and we get this rather bizarre situation where when he's doing his thing and I'm about to get into bed, he starts running to the window, bits wobbling everywhere, and ranting at me about being a 'Durty little c*nt' and such!
Pot, kettle, black and all that, and I'm thinking 'Well I'll be damned if I'm gonna turn off me lights and draw me curtains to hide myself from some evidently bonkers naked bloke who feels the need to do it open to the world, then gets pugilistic that folks can see it, especially when he's presumabley gonna distribute the resultant video!' so I keep on doing my thing as always, sometimes lingering longer just to annoy the objectional little twunt, he keeps escalating his victim rant thing, and after a while going to bed or even just walking by the window becomes an annoying trial-by-naked-nutter, the main phrase of annoyance being 'You wanna see a REAL MAN, do ya, eh!?', when we're talking some paunchy Paul Calf lookalike replete with moustache and mullet and a knob like an Iceland frozen carrot.
Any wonder he ain't hitting the bigtime...
So, what to do?
After discussing this 'problem' with friends one night in the pub and going through alsorts of possible ways to annoy this fellow back, from too silly ones like 'Have better sex than him by your window' to too serious ones like 'Go tell the police about it', and none of them feeling quite right, someone suggests 'Get a mate who's hung like a donkey to stand in front of your window and make him feel inadequate!'.
Now at that time I don't know any mates hung like a donkey, least of all any willing to come stand in me window on demand at 11pm at night, but this does gives me an idea:
Our windows are about 25-30 metres apart, quite a distance, and my window, unlike his, has a net curtain that further obscures things and the light is very much behind me, so I hit upon an idea to make a comedy pair of huge cock pants!
Yes, you heard me!
I got a pair of small briefs and some of that flesh coloured sticky bandage stuff (like plasters on a roll) and covered them in a strip of it at the front top edge to camouflage them, then a pair of old socks wrapped in more of same, and bish bash bosh, a wearable floppy knob to shame John Holmes and Jeff Stryker combined! Of course, close up it looks like a bairns arm that's been thru a mangle and a visit to very understaffed A&E, but from that distance and backlit...
So, on to the show, well, I must admit, I rather started to enjoy myself at this point, and I got right into my part, fnarr fnarr, and decided I would wrap a towel about myself and pretend I had just left the shower and 'accidentally' lose the towel at the window thereby exposing said appendage in a 'natural manner'.
So that night just before bed I look out for him doing his thing with my lights off, yup there they are, lights blazing, faux exclaiming away for the camera doggy style, facing the window, so I put me Frankenstein's Monster's Cock Pants on and wrap a towel round my waist, my curtains open, and on go the lights for the show.
A casual walk to the window, quick sly check without being obvious to see if I've attracted his attention and there he is, he's dropped his fellow 'actress' already, she's looking like 'Oh lord not this again' head on arm, probably thinking fag break time, and he's leaning out of his window ready and waiting, so I turn to our curtains and start tugging at them, but ooh, ooh they're stuck, and he's off, bait taken, he's ranting he's raving and doing his how very dare you thing, but gosh, these curtains aren't moving are they, so he's going ballistic by this point, self induced indignant enragement like a Daily Mail reader outside a Paediatrician, so I take my other hand off the towel to aid moving these troublesome drapes, thus unleashing the beast, who makes a proud silhouette in my net curtains!
Suddenly, we have silence.
There is a second or two of confusion on my part, I continue for a moment in my 'Stuck curtains' mime, fake schlong a schwinging, then, too curious anymore not to see what's going off, I look down, and I find he's looking up, she's sitting on her haunches doing the same, our eyes meet, and there is a brief frozen moment where nobody knows what to do and I wonder if this was all a good idea after all, when suddenly, bang zoom, he launches himself off his sill backwards, slams the sash window shut, and if it's possible to slam curtains too, he does!
SCORE!! I punch the air, and that was the end of the problem, never saw or heard from him again.
I didn't even get a chance to shout 'Sorry for the length, mate!' ;)
Tee hee hee...
(Fri 12th Oct 2007, 11:29, More)
» Tightwads
I hate seeing food wasted, I hate seeing supermarkets or shops pour all their days leftover fresh produce into bags and dump it in the bin,
I much prefer when they sell it for less when it's late in the day or give it away in the last 10, enough folks will still want their dinner at dinner time and only old folks and/or the very poor ever wait around for the slightly spoiled food, your average working man will not be doing that, and it also gives the staff something nice and fun to do at the end of each day.
So already from that standpoint you can see how the following story would upset me.
I knew a few homeless folks in York, just guys I'd got talking to on the street and liked and occasionally helped out, one was quite proud of managing without charity, soup kitchens and such, he didn't like them, so finding food was a priority for him. He was also quite a neat and polite fellow, you wouldn't immediately guess he lived on the street.
He told me he used to get the leftovers given to him by a local bakers shop (of the type like Gregs but I forget it's name) but they had a change of management and now they put it in the bin instead.
So my friend started to wait by the bin and take it back out, so they stopped using plastic bags and tipped the produce in directly, so he started laying down fresh newspaper first over the other rubbish in order that he could recover at least a pasty or two, but they then got wise to that and started pouring bleach over the produce once dumped to render it inedible no matter what he did.
Why? To stop one homeless man from getting a free meal once a day. How selfless of you.
Oh and I just remembered a similar one, I had a mate who everyday had a sandwich for his tea in my local pub, he was retired on a good pension and this was his daily treat, it came with a salad that he never ate so if I was around he would let me have that as at the time I was a veggy, and as I've already said I hate seeing good food wasted and it would otherwise be thrown (it wasn't exactly a meal I'd just nibble on it whilst we chatted).
However, after seeing this happen a few times, one of the barstaff started getting actually enraged at this, he would come across and berate me for 'taking food I had not paid for' and try and remove the salad from under my nose, even though my friend was right there and had paid for this and given it to me, 'it's our policy that people should only eat food that they themselves have bought here'.
I ended up having to ask my friend to just ask them not to make him the salad anymore.
What is it with some folks about other people occasionally getting something nice or needy for nothing, why do some folks get so upset about that and seem to take it as a personal slight? Especially when it's only going to be wasted or destroyed otherwise, what's the problem?
It's just some kind of bitter spite I think.
(Sun 26th Oct 2008, 11:02, More)
I hate seeing food wasted, I hate seeing supermarkets or shops pour all their days leftover fresh produce into bags and dump it in the bin,
I much prefer when they sell it for less when it's late in the day or give it away in the last 10, enough folks will still want their dinner at dinner time and only old folks and/or the very poor ever wait around for the slightly spoiled food, your average working man will not be doing that, and it also gives the staff something nice and fun to do at the end of each day.
So already from that standpoint you can see how the following story would upset me.
I knew a few homeless folks in York, just guys I'd got talking to on the street and liked and occasionally helped out, one was quite proud of managing without charity, soup kitchens and such, he didn't like them, so finding food was a priority for him. He was also quite a neat and polite fellow, you wouldn't immediately guess he lived on the street.
He told me he used to get the leftovers given to him by a local bakers shop (of the type like Gregs but I forget it's name) but they had a change of management and now they put it in the bin instead.
So my friend started to wait by the bin and take it back out, so they stopped using plastic bags and tipped the produce in directly, so he started laying down fresh newspaper first over the other rubbish in order that he could recover at least a pasty or two, but they then got wise to that and started pouring bleach over the produce once dumped to render it inedible no matter what he did.
Why? To stop one homeless man from getting a free meal once a day. How selfless of you.
Oh and I just remembered a similar one, I had a mate who everyday had a sandwich for his tea in my local pub, he was retired on a good pension and this was his daily treat, it came with a salad that he never ate so if I was around he would let me have that as at the time I was a veggy, and as I've already said I hate seeing good food wasted and it would otherwise be thrown (it wasn't exactly a meal I'd just nibble on it whilst we chatted).
However, after seeing this happen a few times, one of the barstaff started getting actually enraged at this, he would come across and berate me for 'taking food I had not paid for' and try and remove the salad from under my nose, even though my friend was right there and had paid for this and given it to me, 'it's our policy that people should only eat food that they themselves have bought here'.
I ended up having to ask my friend to just ask them not to make him the salad anymore.
What is it with some folks about other people occasionally getting something nice or needy for nothing, why do some folks get so upset about that and seem to take it as a personal slight? Especially when it's only going to be wasted or destroyed otherwise, what's the problem?
It's just some kind of bitter spite I think.
(Sun 26th Oct 2008, 11:02, More)
» Karma
Gay Karma
I had to share a top floor with a drug fucked chav who'd moved in after I did for a few years, we shared a kitchen and he made my life hell, particularly because he would regularly have loud parties and get drugged up senseless, eat all the food in the kitchen including mine, and then bang my door down the next day asking where it had all gone! Also because it didn't take him long to figure out I have a penchant for mutual manlove, so much merriment was made of that amongst him and all his druggy friends.
One of these 'friends' was his dealer, bit of a flash sort, lots of gold jewellery, very young girlfriend who never spoke and seemed to be purely eye candy, and he had a Liverpudlian perm and a permanent tan and talked often about working out. He regularly took this chap out in his flash car for a night of fun in the pubs and clubs, all expenses paid, free beer and drugs and a ride home, what a great mate, eh?
Well, one night I was home when they got back but was reading quietly to one small lamp and so wasn't obviously around, the music started and obviously the night was continuing next door, but I just turned on some of mine and carried on reading, until some of the sounds next door triggered something in my mind and I found myself walking over and putting my ear the wall to be sure of what I was hearing.
His mate was fucking him!
I'll spare you the gory details, but this it seems was a regular thing, and was apparently enabled by the deft use of alcohol and GHB, yes basically date rape by his acutely closet mate, and my extremely objectional and homophobic flatmate was being regularly butt fucked by his equally homophobic dealer, and all he knew about it the next day was drugs somehow make your arse sore.
From then on whenever I was called names and threatened by him and his cronies all I could do was smile and wonder how many of them had been taken for a nice night out and a trip home with their best mate and dealer.
BTW, I don't have to worry about him reading this and figuring it out, now, he took himself out of the gene pool a few years later long after I moved away by building a fire in the middle of his room to keep warm, presumably due to his habit of never wasting any of his dole/drug money on the joint 50p driven leccy meter, and died from the resultant carbon monoxide poisoning.
Karma, or just the inevitable rewards of stupidity when coupled with arrogant ignorance, you decide.
(Mon 25th Feb 2008, 16:35, More)
Gay Karma
I had to share a top floor with a drug fucked chav who'd moved in after I did for a few years, we shared a kitchen and he made my life hell, particularly because he would regularly have loud parties and get drugged up senseless, eat all the food in the kitchen including mine, and then bang my door down the next day asking where it had all gone! Also because it didn't take him long to figure out I have a penchant for mutual manlove, so much merriment was made of that amongst him and all his druggy friends.
One of these 'friends' was his dealer, bit of a flash sort, lots of gold jewellery, very young girlfriend who never spoke and seemed to be purely eye candy, and he had a Liverpudlian perm and a permanent tan and talked often about working out. He regularly took this chap out in his flash car for a night of fun in the pubs and clubs, all expenses paid, free beer and drugs and a ride home, what a great mate, eh?
Well, one night I was home when they got back but was reading quietly to one small lamp and so wasn't obviously around, the music started and obviously the night was continuing next door, but I just turned on some of mine and carried on reading, until some of the sounds next door triggered something in my mind and I found myself walking over and putting my ear the wall to be sure of what I was hearing.
His mate was fucking him!
I'll spare you the gory details, but this it seems was a regular thing, and was apparently enabled by the deft use of alcohol and GHB, yes basically date rape by his acutely closet mate, and my extremely objectional and homophobic flatmate was being regularly butt fucked by his equally homophobic dealer, and all he knew about it the next day was drugs somehow make your arse sore.
From then on whenever I was called names and threatened by him and his cronies all I could do was smile and wonder how many of them had been taken for a nice night out and a trip home with their best mate and dealer.
BTW, I don't have to worry about him reading this and figuring it out, now, he took himself out of the gene pool a few years later long after I moved away by building a fire in the middle of his room to keep warm, presumably due to his habit of never wasting any of his dole/drug money on the joint 50p driven leccy meter, and died from the resultant carbon monoxide poisoning.
Karma, or just the inevitable rewards of stupidity when coupled with arrogant ignorance, you decide.
(Mon 25th Feb 2008, 16:35, More)
» Evil Pranks
I know some bikers
and altho very good and friendly folk, they are mostly very big scary people your average person in the street probably wouldn't cross, however as we all know, beer can seriously cloud judgement.
I was at one of their parties, two chaps arrived uninvited. Being ex army, they decided all these big hairy bikers were nothing compared to them, they were of course uber hard and could take on any of them and drink their beer.
They were apparently not too good of eyesight nor aware of the presence of knives and biker ways, and things came very close to turning rather nasty as they proceeded to neck most of the beer and spirits as plans were drawn against them.
I didn't look forward to being a party to such activities discussed nor did I wish to leave, so I had words, I had some Valium on me (don't ask), we powdered it and added it to some Uzo shots, then walked in with these on a tray and announced, 'Who wants a shot of this then!?', they of course were first up and it was made sure they got the right ones, and as expected, in about 30 minutes they were as ragdolls.
A lot was then said of ways to dispose of them, again I stepped in and offered to help take them to a 'wipe out area' where they could sleep it off while the rest of us partied on, and to appease the need to do something to them as vengeance without necessarily needing to do anything too debilitating I helped 'arrange' them a tad.
I wasn't there come the morning as I'd quit and gone home due to unnecessary alcohol consumption by then, but apparently, close army buddies as they were, they weren't quite so ready to get as close as when they awoke, what with having found themselves spooning nude in a sleeping bag with an apparently used condom stuck between them, and everyone who still remained downstairs, as they sheepishly surfaced looking for their clothes, asking if they'd enjoyed themselves the night before as much as it had seemed!?
What? You don't remember a thing? Allow us to fill out your memory losses with stories you will never know the full truth of for the rest of your lives...
We never saw them again.
(Fri 14th Dec 2007, 14:39, More)
I know some bikers
and altho very good and friendly folk, they are mostly very big scary people your average person in the street probably wouldn't cross, however as we all know, beer can seriously cloud judgement.
I was at one of their parties, two chaps arrived uninvited. Being ex army, they decided all these big hairy bikers were nothing compared to them, they were of course uber hard and could take on any of them and drink their beer.
They were apparently not too good of eyesight nor aware of the presence of knives and biker ways, and things came very close to turning rather nasty as they proceeded to neck most of the beer and spirits as plans were drawn against them.
I didn't look forward to being a party to such activities discussed nor did I wish to leave, so I had words, I had some Valium on me (don't ask), we powdered it and added it to some Uzo shots, then walked in with these on a tray and announced, 'Who wants a shot of this then!?', they of course were first up and it was made sure they got the right ones, and as expected, in about 30 minutes they were as ragdolls.
A lot was then said of ways to dispose of them, again I stepped in and offered to help take them to a 'wipe out area' where they could sleep it off while the rest of us partied on, and to appease the need to do something to them as vengeance without necessarily needing to do anything too debilitating I helped 'arrange' them a tad.
I wasn't there come the morning as I'd quit and gone home due to unnecessary alcohol consumption by then, but apparently, close army buddies as they were, they weren't quite so ready to get as close as when they awoke, what with having found themselves spooning nude in a sleeping bag with an apparently used condom stuck between them, and everyone who still remained downstairs, as they sheepishly surfaced looking for their clothes, asking if they'd enjoyed themselves the night before as much as it had seemed!?
What? You don't remember a thing? Allow us to fill out your memory losses with stories you will never know the full truth of for the rest of your lives...
We never saw them again.
(Fri 14th Dec 2007, 14:39, More)