You are not logged in. Login or Signup
Profile for mister_barfly:
Profile Info:


Recent front page messages:


Best answers to questions:

» Personal Ads

Back in 1996...
...when I was still in Uni and t'net was still in its infancy and the most hi-tec information system in the house was Teletext, my housemates and I used to get drunk ad watch the dating ads scroll by. One night we spotted an ad from a gay Star Trek fan looking for a bloke who was a cross between Jean-Luc Picard and Phil Mitchell.

Now, our housemate Donkey wasn't gay but he was a huge Star Trek fan. More importantly, he wasn't in the house. So, we rang this guy up, put on a northern accent, and left a message that went somewhere along the lines of "I'd like to boldly go to Uranus."

I know. Comedy genius.

Anyway, next day and while we're sufferingfrom our collective hangovers the phone starts ringing. It's for Donkey. He takes the call, looks bemused, tries to explain that it must be a mistake or a wrong number, and hangs up before telling us how some guy was asking him how big his cock was. We all pulled suitably puzzled expressions and went on with our lives, each of us sneaking off to our rooms for a quick giggle when we could.

The next day, the phone goes. It's for Donkey. Again. Again, he explains that its a mistake, hangs up. And says the same thing the day after that. And the day after that too. And pretty much every day for the next six months until the guy finally got the hint and stopped calling... just in time for us all to graduate and leave the house anyway.
(Thu 13th Sep 2007, 15:58, More)

» Voyeurism

Coitus Interuptus
I was in London for an exhibition and my boss at the time had a policy of forcing staff members to share rooms to cut down on expenses. The fact that we'd put the money saved on the bar tab instead probably didn't help. Anyways, I'm sharing with this guy, Mark. It's a Friday night, so we go to watch something at the local cinema, then back to the hotel for drinks. Except Mark's still complaining about the hangover he inflicted on himself on Wednesday and isn't about to embark on a drinking mission.

Salvation appears in the form of our customer services manager and her friend knocking at the door and asking if we're going to the bar. Mark's still complaining about his hangover so pikes out, I trot after the girls and get well and truly hammered while the girls complain that we didn't invite them to the cinema with us.

Just after one in the morning, our customer services manager wanders off and a little while later her friend insists hat we go and fetch Mark and force him to drink. We get to my room, get told to fuck off and leave him alone, and I'm just about to head back to the bar when this girl grabs me and starts kissing me.


Then she slides her hand inside the waistband of my trousers and starts tugging at my cock.

Oh, yes.

I take her hand, lead her across the room and lay her down on my bed. Minutes later, she's lying with her legs akimbo, knickers discarded on the floor and her thighs pressed against the sides of my head while I delve my tongue inside her.

That's when the door flies open. The Customer Services manager peers into the dark and asks "What's going on here?" then sees for herself what the answer is. "Oh," she says.

"Thank Christ you turned up," says Mark. "I was geting scared there."

The light gets turned on and the girl I'm with leaps from the bed, scoops up her knickers, then runs and locks herself inside the bathroom for a cry. I stand up and say to the CS Manager: "And THAT's why we didn't invite you to the cinema, 'cos we knew you'd ruin the ending."

Her friend went fucking batshit after that and started smashing things up. We snuck out the next morning before we could get collared for damages....
(Fri 12th Oct 2007, 13:02, More)

» School Days

Miss Gorden was fresh out of teacher training. If you knocked your pencil on the floor, she would instantly bend over to pick it up to avoid the disruption of people getting up from their chair. If you knocked it far enough, she had to turn her back to you before bending...

I enjoyed Geography that year, but I didn't learn a fucking thing.
(Sat 31st Jan 2009, 0:06, More)

» Nativity Plays

Trial By Jury
For some reason, my school thought that it was appropriate for the annual school play to be Gilbert & Sullivan's light opera, "Trial By Jury." In most schools, this would have been fine but since ours was an all boys school and "Trial By Jury" features a substantial number of female parts, it was obvious that our teaching staff either had (a) forgotten or (b) a wicked sense of humour.

Anyways, I audition for a role and wind up as a bridesmaid. A fucking bridesmaid. Which means that for three nights in a row (plus the daytime dress rehearsal that the rest of the school was invited to) I got to prance around on stage wearing my nan's nightie (in lieu of a bridesmaid's outfit).

Twenty years have passed and I still wake up in a cold sweat, hoping that it was just a nightmare but, sadly, no. Luckily this was all before the time of Youtube so that shit wasn't digitised for the whole world to enjoy.
(Fri 27th Mar 2009, 22:50, More)

» Mistaken Identity

Good evening Rock City!
Back in '96 I was a student. One night, I went along to the local rock club to see a band called Skyscraper. I had interviewed the band earlier in the evening for the Student Union newspaper -- at the time, their album was one of my favourites and so I jumped at the chance to meet them. After the interview I wandered off to get some food and something to drink, and wound up in the bar next door where I spent the next few hours drinking and chatting up a couple of girls I knew.

Suddenly clocking the time, I left the bar and got back into the club just as Skyscraper were starting their first song. Ok, I'd missed the support act but I didn't know much about them so wasn't too bothered. The gig was great -- one of the girls followed me into the Club, so the two of us danced and sang along (actually, I did the singing as she didn't have a clue who they were), drank. Heavily.

After the set I saunter over to the merchandise kiosk and ask if it's possible to see someone from the band as I just wanted to congratulate them on such a great gig (actually, I wanted to be invited backstage to help them drink their rider) and this little guy came out. I hadn't met him earlier on, but he looked like the rythm guitarist so I start telling him how fantastic the show was.

Then I say "… and you played 'Love Sick!' That's my favourite song by you guys!" and I get this blank look in return.

"Erm…," he says, "I think you've mistaken me for somebody else. I'm Grant. I'm the singer in Feeder."


Luckily, the girl I was with thought that the band we had seen was Feeder, so had bought one of their t-shirts. I point at her wearing it and say "Oh, you were great too, man -- my friend even bought your t-shirt, see?"

At that point he walked away, back to his band mates and beer. I can't say that I particularly blame him. Still, I got laid that evening so it wasn't all bad...
(Fri 1st Jun 2007, 12:47, More)
[read all their answers]