b3ta.com user mr null
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I really should get round to doing something with this space... in the meantime:

Here's my blog!

Here's my website which hasn't been updated for 4 years...

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» * PFFT *

The worst thing I ever did
Ahhhhh. How age brings us the benefit of wonderful experiences. There's some things you should never do; believe me, I've done most of them several times, and those that I've only done once, I'll probably end up doing again just for the sake of it.

Back when I was 18, I had quite a lot of things ahead of me. I had a fiancé at this time; her name was Gillian. Prior to our engagement, at 17, she'd popped my ever ripening cherry for me. We ended up engaged; this phenomena is known as 'first fuck' syndrome.
So, Gillian.
Bless her, initially she was a great choice, but as time went by, she hooked up with some new friends outside of our group. In the end she became a real SLAG. Turned out she'd been sleeping with some heroin addict. Class. In all truth, I was glad to be rid of her...

One of the best things about Gillian was her huge static caravan, which my friends and i would often go back to after a night on the beer.
On one particular night, four of us lads went back with Gill -- all quite lashed. I made everyone hot chocolate and Gill' finished hers and went to bed. Little did I know, but several blocks of ex-lax chocolate had been placed in my drink and left to dissolve whilst I was in the bedroom wishing her goodnight. The trivial pursuit board came out, and we set about drunken play. [This was 1989 after all.]

My stomach was upset. Laddishly, I let out a restricted guff. My friend Luke looked around the table.
"Give me a lighter... Now!"
Us other three lads watched in awe as he pulled down his trousers, placed the lighter... and guffed.. Producing a small blue green flame. Impressed, we rallied the table. Lindon and Justin couldn't rise to the challenge... But I felt worthy.

I stood next to the fireplace, dropped my trousers, lit the lighter and STRAAAAAINED.

The lighter was extinguished. The fireplace was pebbledashed. Everything was covered in a thick layer of liquid shit.
I looked around at the stunned faces: total silence as the realisation set in about what'd just happened.... Followed by a tidal wave of laughter which rose the very She-devil herself... GILLIAN!
"What's going on in there?" she shouted, "I'm coming out!"
The laughter stopped, shock set in, and then panic.
"Errrrr... Nothing!" I yelped.
I grabbed what I could: kitchen roll, paper, and the kitchen cloth from the sink.
By the time she was dressed and out, minimal evidence was on show. She didn't even suss. The 'soiled' kitchen cloth sat back in the sink.
I felt relief.

It doesn't end there though. Obviously, no one else sussed either..
I arrived at the caravan on the following tuesday.
Gillians step mother was just finishing the washing up. She was using the cloth... That I'd forgotten to clean.
Arse biscuits.
(Fri 13th Jul 2007, 16:01, More)