» And that's the thanks I got

Last night
My friend called me at 2 o'clock in the morning. He told me something to the effect of: "I'm near your house, I have no money, my home is a long way, let me sleep at yours please". This was said, I might add, in a very slurred, drunken voice. Bearing in mind I am currently residing with my parents (Although that problem will be rectified soon), I agreed, but asked him not to ring the doorbell when he arrived, but to ring my mobile (So as not to wake my parents up). He was obviously that pissed he couldnt tell the difference, and rang the doorbell anyway.

So I crept downstairs, trying to be as quiet as possible, on the off chance the doorbell hasn't woken my parents up. I get to the door, and said friend keeps pushing the doorbell, shouting, "Hello, hello!!" By now, parents are at the top of the stairs wondering what the hell is going on. I explain very quickly the situation, and my dad goes back to bed. Obviously he couldn't be arsed to argue with me at that time.

I opened the door, and he more or less managed to stagger into the house. I told him to be quiet and go upstairs into my bedroom, but that he would have to sleep on the floor, so I gave him a pillow. Safe in the knowledge that in the morning my parents are going to be pissed off at me for waking them up, I tried to get some shut-eye.

Unable to sleep because it seems my friend hiccups when he's sleeping, I turned the light on. What do I see? A huge pool of water on my floor, oddly, under my friends head. So I woke him up (It didn't take much) and asked him what the hell it was.
"I don't know," he replied, "But it seems to have come out of my eyes."
Suspicious, I put my finger in it and smell it. Piss.
"No!, its come out of my eyes!" he insisted.

My friend, who I let into my house, and risked having a confrontation with my parents for, had pissed on my floor.

I shan't go through the details of clearing it up, but suffice to say, there's currently a nice stain on my carpet, accompanied by an odd smell lingering in my room in general.

I suppose it could have been worse, as he could have needed a shit.

AFL
(Fri 25th May 2007, 17:24, More)

» Buses

Got on a bus
Not many seats left, but the sideways ones behind the driver were empty, so I sat on one them. A couple of stops later and old lady with a walking stick gets on. There were no seats left on the bus and, being the good citizen I am, I offered her my seat...

"DO NOT patronise ME!" she shouted back, as she hobbled to stand further down the bus.

I didn't say anything back, I just sat there speechless, feeling guilty for offering this little old lady my seat.
(Fri 26th Jun 2009, 23:05, More)

» Useless advice

Yes, careers advisers are the most useless people...
I did a test on a computer which asked me how much I liked or disliked something. E.G:

Working as a group - Like very much / Like / Neither like nor dislike / Dislike / Dislike very much

I answered about 60 questions similar to this, then went into the room to have my "chat" with the careers adviser. How she kept a straight face I don't know.

"Yes Nick, we have found that your ideal career would be:

T.V Antenna installer."

She tried everything in her power to convince me to go down this route, but in the end I told her I'd "consider it" and left.

I am now at university. I am not studying TV antenna installation.
(Mon 23rd Oct 2006, 12:30, More)

» I was drunk when I bought this

Beer

(Thu 9th Jun 2005, 12:37, More)

» Pathological Liars

Ben
Well, his name isn't really Ben, but for the purposes of this story, it is.

I met Ben at college. First impression - just another person you meet on the first day of college. (Although I didn't fail to notice he was attired in a Slipknot “hoodie”, and bore an odd looking mole on the left side of his neck.)

After a few weeks, I got to know Ben a little better. I talked to him at lunch time a fair amount, and we got to know each other reasonably well. One of the prominent topics Ben would speak about was the band “Slipknot” and/or various other bands of the same genre. (Most of which I had never heard of, and never wish to hear of again.) Death metal isn’t really my scene; however Ben was fundamentally obsessed with the idea of bands eating dead pigeons on stage and the like. He also seemed to like bringing to college photographs of people who had died in horrific ways. (Most of which I suspect he obtained from sites such as rotten.com (NSFW, obviously))

One of the first claims that Ben made to me, was that he was in a death metal band himself. Of course at this point, I had no reason to disbelieve him. I had known him only a few weeks, and the thought he might be a pathological liar never even crossed my mind. As the weeks went on, Ben would tell me of rehearsals with his band, how they nearly came to be signed, and how they were on their way to the “big time”. One thing niggled me about this – he never rehearsed nor played a gig in our hometown of Sheffield. My friends and I thought this was odd, but put it down to him not wanting to perform in front of his friends, rather than the fact that his band didn’t exist. A month or so into the first term of college, the first major porkie was told – Ben came to school looking rather depressed on this day, as he confided in my friends and I that the drummer in his band had hung himself the night before. This not being the kind of thing you like to accuse someone of lying about, I left the situation alone, not really knowing whether or not it was true.

A few weeks after the “drummer suicide” episode, Ben proclaimed he had a new girlfriend – A female wrestler by the name of “Belladonna”. On one particular Friday night, my friends and I went to the pub. We invited Ben along. After about twenty minutes, Ben pointed to the other side of the pub, telling us he’d spotted his girlfriend and he was going over to talk to her. I said I would come with him to meet her, but he told me she was really shy and didn’t like meeting new people unexpectedly. Ben navigated the crowds to the other side of the pub, and was not seen again that night. Over the course of three of four months, Ben had many “girlfriends”, all of which had some unique trait, such as “female wrestler”, “gynaecologist”, or “left arm torn off in an horrific car accident”. Of course by now, I wasn’t believing a word of it.

Ben’s final fabrication before I confronted him came in the form of an MSN conversation we had during the summer holidays. In the morning, he told me (On MSN) that he was at home, and was preparing to travel to America to work with his uncle who was a pathologist. He said goodbye to me on MSN, at around eleven o’clock in the morning. Three o’clock in the afternoon he logged back in, with the MSN name “Just solved my first pathology case, now time for some REAL gore!!!”. I then asked him (Over MSN) for his IP address. I cant remember what excuse I gave for wanting it, but he pressed the “publish IP address” button on MSN. I took the address and worked out where he was…..

Grimsby.

I told him I knew where he was and that he must be lying to me. I wish I had saved this MSN conversation, but his reply was something along the lines of…

“YOU HAVE NO FAITH IN ME!!! YOU HAVE TO TAKE A FUCKING LEAP OF FAITH, I AM IN AMERICA I DON’T GIVE A SHIT WHAT YOU THINK, YOUR WRONG, YOU’RE A FUCKING SHITHEAD I HOPE YOU HANG YOURSELF…” etc etc.”

That about wraps It up for Ben, who apparently IS in a band now, and is no longer a pathological liar…

Many, many, many, APLs
(Sun 2nd Dec 2007, 16:51, More)