b3ta.com user balboa
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» Urban Legends

My mate who was always fairly bizarre, told me he once walked into his bathroom at home, and caught his mum shaving her tits.
(Thu 5th Jan 2006, 17:31, More)

» Hidden Treasure

hidden treasure indeed
On holiday in cornwall with extended family who had rented a 17th century manor house. which was a draughty old castle type thing, with massive rooms. the owners were some minor 'earl' or somesuch, but obviously had an overtly kinky 'kink' in their family geneology - as well as dusty suits of armour knocking about the place, there were some rather explicit and very realistic huge self portrait paintings of who i can only assume was the 'earls' ancestor, basically shagging a fully naked, voluptuos model/muse. These were dotted about the place and being a pubescent 13 year old i thought they were simultaneously hilarious and fucking horny. One day i stumbled across a staircase i hadnt seen before and went up it, into the attic. after finding a few boxes of dusty crap, a massive stack of magazines caught my eye. Imagine my sheer 13 year old joy at discovering the magazines were vintage 70s era playboy and mayfair .
i spent the rest of the fortnight happily wanking myself silly. treasure indeed..
(Thu 30th Jun 2005, 15:22, More)

» Toilets

cruel bog world

As anyone who uses Virgin trains regularly will know, to use their new fangelised toilets you have a button on the outside to open the sliding door, then you step inside and press another button to close it, and have to stand there for an age while the door slowly closes again, and a further button to lock it.

On a really busy commute time train there was a massive que for the bog, with about 8 people in the que, and about a further 15 or so people crammed like cattle into the toilet part of the carriage as, as usual, there were no seats in any of the carriages. In front of me was an old biddy who obviously wasn't very aux fait with the complicated button pressing nature of the toilets. She went in ok, then closed the door ok, and thought she had locked it ok, but about 2 minutes later, just when she was curling one out, the door slowly started its automatic route back to the open position, which let anyone in sight (about 15 people) have a grand stand view of her taking a shit, her wrinkly legs and her old nans pants around her ankles. The worst thing was as the toilet is so far from any of the control buttons she was powerless to do anything apart from have the most horrified expression on her face. And nobody helped her.
(Wed 7th Sep 2005, 17:30, More)

» Awesome Sickies

my mate was at uni in Manchester and had a job at large 'avin it club in the cloakroom. but being the total drug hoover he was, weeks on end spent on massive binges was doing him no favours and his entire being was steeped in paranoia. whilst at work in this state he had spent the entire evening chucking the coats in a massive pile without actually allocating the tickets to them. when all the clubbers came to get their coats he just bolted and did some more drugs to 'level out'. phoned up the next night and told his boss he couldnt come to work as he'd "Gone mad". He had as well you know, but hes ok now.
(Fri 9th Jun 2006, 11:24, More)

» School fights

we had a teacher at school who was bit unorthodox. He was everyones favourite teacher, and was quite matey with the class but he didnt take any shit. He could aim with pinpoint precision, board rubbers, bunches of keys and his favourite - the bit of chalk he was using, right at your head if you were titting about.

One class me and my mate were giving each other dead legs, he bollocked us and made us stand at the front of the class. Then told us for the rest of the lesson we were to have a fight. Everyone laughed, but of course he wasnt joking.
He even divided the class as 'supporters' for the individual pugilists. Initially we refused, but somehow he managed to get us both riled with the other, even shouting 'Come on, FIGHT!' and 'Punch harder!' and we began pushing, then shoving then the first punch was thrown and we were off. The whole class was cheering their own allocated fighter. It started to get pretty vicious, and we were both waiting for the teacher to call and end to the precedings, but he just kept checking his watch. Desks went flying, blood was spilt, then the bell went. He just picked up his things and walked off for lunch. He didnt need to mention it again. It went down in year folklore, but strangely no one who was in that class ever had a fight again, maybe he'd made a point about the fruitlessness of fighting, maybe no one wanted to be humiliated in that way. Who knows.

After one summer break he never came back, allegedly he had touched up some 3rd yr girl.
(Fri 10th Mar 2006, 13:36, More)
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