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kevin


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» Spoooky Coincidence

It's How I Was Made
My grandmother was working as a barmaid in the late 1920s. A kind looking chap used to come in the pub every week or so as he was a travelling salesman. He was plucking up the courage to speak to her:

"So, what's your name?"
"Florence."
"Really? Thats my mothers name."

Florrie, me grandma, wasn't having any of this - this was a pretty lame chat up line at the time, but he insisted it was his mothers name. So Florrie asked for his name.

"William."
"Well that's a coincidence, that's my fathers name."

Turns out that Florence and William BOTH had parents called... Florence and William. Thus:

William - Florence William - Florence
| |
-------------------------
|
William - Florence

They courted, married, and stayed together for the rest of their lives.

AND THAT'S HOW I WAS MADE.
(Fri 9th Feb 2007, 17:10, More)

» Pretentious bollocks

I love art.
The belgrade studio in cov... won't go into too much detail, same old bullocks, lots of ugly nudity, some screaming, lots of confusion. Generally the audience were being patient, trying their best to get it, lots of chin rubbing. We don't get much kultcha in the midlands, and so you have to try and absorb.

But there was a classic moment when the main "character" had a red flower pot on his head, and walked to the front of the stage, and a series of black strings fell from one of the lights, gently resting on the flowerpot. Yup, a perfect Tommy Cooper fez.

My friend and I turned to each other and remarked: "Jus-like-that"

The whole audience creased with laughter, ruining the "climax" to this "performance"

The Q+A session afterwards was fun...
(Wed 28th Sep 2005, 17:20, More)

» Road Rage

Ah go on then.
I'll tell my tale.

Cycling along at the end of the working day, and stopped at a red traffic light. Some kind of car (I'm crap with cars, soz) pulled up next to me filled with 17 / 18 years olded youth. They seemed fine, and when "racing" me away from me when the light changed, I forgive their youthful indiscretion.

HOWEVER when I pulled up next to them at the next set of lights in the same situation, the little ginger runt in the passenger seat decided to gob on me... I wasn't having that.

Getting away from a mad cyclist swinging his D lock (I am normally quite calm and forgiving, but that really really riled me) is quite simple in a car... but when your car comes up to the end of a traffic queue, you're in trouble.

They ended up driving the wrong side of the road towards an oncoming lorry to escape down a side road to the right. Bad form.

I went home armed with incident times and his plate, and rang the police to see if they did anything illegal and if they could give them a ticking off.

Was quite happy to be told it was assault and dangerous driving. Caught on CCTV, the driver got 5 points and the passenger got a caution for assault. HA!

And I seen them in my local a month or so later and got them chucked out for being under age. I'm such a petty rule abiding cunt.
(Tue 17th Oct 2006, 11:04, More)

» The Police

Not funny.
Was about 15 when some notorious lads came up to me and held a knife to my throat for about two minutes. In broad daylight for no reason whatsoever. I think it was cus I was tall, or something

"Do you think you're hard?"

(through tears) "No..."

After proving their point they left.

Ran home, spotted a panda car, told the officers. Drove round the corner to (another) notorious spot where local thugs hang around... there they were.

Great!

Copper grabbed them, threw them in the back seat and proceeded to force an apology out of them through *extreme* force.

I'm a non-violent, passive type, but my golly gilly gosh that was so so so satisfying.

One of the lads is dead, another in gaol for twenty and I spotted the other selling spoilt copies of the big issue.

"Have you got an official vendors ID?"

"Er... no... not with me"

"Well you can piss off then"

Satisfying schadenfreude.

I respect the police, its not a "nice" job. And I could never understand people with an irrational hatred for "pigs"

Rational hatred through personal experience is fine though.

length? apology? nah.

edit: ALL YOU DRINK / DRUGGED DRIVERS CAN FUCK RIGHT OFF.
(Fri 23rd Sep 2005, 0:38, More)

» Apparently I'm a sex offender

pants
I look after and live with my grandmother, and late one night last summer I remembered she didn't have any clean pants for the morning. No problem, I knew my mother had cleaned some and so I ran over to my parents house to get some out of their washing machine.

I was already dressed for bed (scraggy t-shirt, boxers), I just popped on some shorts and sandals and set off. Tired and rough looking, having been to the pub earlier and had a few *smokes*.

Ran to mum and dads, grabbed said underwear, put in a carrier bag, walked back home, traa la la.

Cue police car. As I live in a rough area, you get used to it, normal questions, "What you doin, where you been?" etc. Now I did look a bit peculiar, as ever, and so I didn't mind the questions, but it was cold and wanted to go home, and was acting drowsy and tired.

"What's in the bag mate?"

"Er, ermm..."

* torches upon bag of soggy old lady pants *

"Get in the back of the car you fucking pervert."

They thought I'd been stealing from washing lines, and after I shouted the story (they were only going to listen to me at the station) they dropped me off almost 15 minutes away from my house (in an even rougher area) freezing my arse off without a word of apology.

Nice.

The police can be right humourless shits sometimes, but they did catch The Worlds Worst Mugger last week for me so I'll forgive them.
(Tue 22nd Aug 2006, 13:14, More)
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