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


Recent front page messages:


Best answers to questions:

» It's not me, it's the drugs talking

regrets? Not really
All true sadly.

At the age of 15 drinking everything in site at a party and deciding to hang from the roof upside down peering in the loo window. Singing "We are the Ovalteenies" for some reason. Surprisingly didn't fall off but somehow managed to get back inside to fall into drunken coma.

During my degree years: getting so stoned on finest nepalese and 7 star Metaxa I didn't notice my girlfriend fixing up (I didn't know she had a heroin habit)and dying of an overdose. I kept asking her to change the record all night as I was paralysed and calling her a lazy bitch.

During my PhD. deciding to stay up all night in the lab writing up some research, drinking 2 bottles of Absolut citron (straight from the bottle)THEN thinking that was a great time to check the bird traps. Now, we used to catch feral pigeons as there wasn't a supplier and we didn't have breeding facilities. As this was in Regents Park the traps weren't popular with tourists so the solution I came up with was to place them on the roof of the research block, get research subjects and lower the pest population art the same time. Cool. So, totally arsed, up the ladder to the roof, stagger out and remember where the traps are. Oh yes, on the roof of the other building where I put them (which had no roof access from inside) and a jump of about 3-4 feet. So, about 200 ft up, jumping between buildings, totally drunk and on the jump back with a caged bird. Insane.

Funnily enough I was seen by one of security who complained (reasonably) that I could easily kill myself, but they didn't stop me until a visit by a member of the Royal Family. Now being a Republican of the "I love Oliver Cromwell" School, I wasn't arsed about a visit from our Patron so decided to pop onto the roof for a smoke of the Moroccan variety, only to be surrounded by 3 armed police (looking like extras from Rainbow Six)who were up on the roof for security. Good job I hadn't taken Speed that day. Looking like a foreigner of the "possible terrorist" variety not a bonus. "Don't MOVE!"
My response? "Oooh, is that a Heckler & Koch? Neat, man."

After that, boring really.
Off down to the pub after a family funeral (a nephew hung himself), getting stoned with and shagging one of my nieces in the woods.

At a family wedding getting off with the photographer not realising her husband was there. Oops.

Other stupid things said or done while on Acid or Dope:
"Well, man, like man, it's cool man".
"I really fancy my sister. I could fuck her hard".
"I really think, man, like your wife does great blowjobs".
"No, man, there isn't a Tiger in the carpet. NO! It's not there. It won't EAT you, IDIOT! Anyway, the giant spider behind you would get it first."
"Wow, fire is so beautiful man." Then whirling a 6 foot flaming branch from the fire in the woods and clubbing (accidentally honest)a friend in the head, burning half his hair off.

Being drug free is soooo dull.
(Sat 17th Dec 2005, 22:05, More)

» Beautiful but Bonkers

Not insane, just stupid.
I was in a very long term relationship, which to be frank was doomed from the start. Why?

We met when she shouted up from her window to mine in the floor above at uni to me, "give me a fag!" Then spent the evening seducing me.

I am an Omnivore, she was a serious Vegetarian. OK, fairly standard compromise ... she was an anti-vivisectionist, I was a career neuroscientist working on several mammalian species ... get the picture? Though later I did move on to cell culture (about 5 years later as it made me a bit schizo to work on things you love). She became a Solicitor as I carried on with a career in Science.
So, after moving in together in a small one bedroom house in Bristol, she comes home one day and presents me with The Timetable.
1. We are sharing the mortgage.
2. I'm getting pregnant next year.
3. You are giving up your job to look after the kids.
Me? "Uh.. OK".
All very well, apart from one thing. I didn't love her .. (heartless user, me?). My reticence due to the fact that all my ex-gf were still very good friends, and her being intensely jealous of ANY female, old or new that called me, the usual "You're sleeping with her aren't you? You don't LOVE ME!" (right, eventually. I didn't start seeing other ex-gf in that way until after 8 years or so, I was drunk, no excuse). Let's not even mention the day I spent "at the Senate House Library, I'll be back tomorrow" when actually I was having lunch with one ex-gf and spending some time in the lifts at the BBC "going up", and secluded spots in Richmond Park, followed by a night with another ex-gf in Brighton, before getting the train back the next day.
She had become colder and colder in bed, eventually making me sleep on the couch, locking herself in the shower ... when she asked me one day to "pay this visa bill for me, I have to go to a meeting early".

Now comes the "are you stupid or just sending me a message? bit".
Visa bills are itemised, date, time, location.
That weekend she "went to visit her mother" she was in a hotel (bridal suite) in South Wales, dinners for two, etc. She also asked me to pick up the photos from the shop. Kept mentioning the Barrister she "had regular contact with at work" was constantly mentioning how "fit" she was and how he thought "I had a pert bottom".

Eventually she helps me find a flat in another city where I was working. Takes all my stuff (never split up with a Solicitor) but feels guilty and buys me loads of replacements for christmas.

Nearly 10 years later she still comes round with the kids sometimes.

Now, the question is: Is she mental or is it me?
(Mon 20th Nov 2006, 19:53, More)

» Fancy Dress

Had no idea it was a fancy dress party, was wearing my usual leather pants, riding boots, t-shirt and leather jacket.
Told everyone I was a rent boy.

Made 50 at the bus station on the way home.
(Sun 15th Jan 2006, 7:41, More)

» Teenage Parties

Burford barman at 15
In those days i was a complete and utter twat, nearest I ever got to one anyway.
Highlights include:
bribing a sister of my friend, Paula (alky and fags)to pretend to be going out with me to go to a party, then watching in horror as she snogged EVERYONE ELSE at he party but me.

Getting so wrecked on Cinzano (vermouth and the other one, you know the one that looks the same going in as coming out) that I ended up on the roof (climbing the drainpipe) hanging by my legs from the gutter trying to see my friend lynn having a slash in the loo, yes I was that desperate. I think I threw a bottle at the coppers who turned up to check out the burglar/disturbance.

Being fortunate enough in having a friend (Hendy) whos parents owned one of the biggest houses in the area and went on holiday, allowing him to hold a "Disco", otherwise known as a teenage drink frenzy and shagathon in the garage, pool and house. It was "bring your own" drinks with limited stocks laid in as a backup. Remember we had pocket money in those days and had to blag like crazy to get older people to buy us alcohol. For some unknown reason I was asked to be barman (this is in my punk days)and pretty soon (about 3 hours into the orgy of teenage angst) the most popular drinks had run out, and EVERYONE kept asking me for plastic pint glasses of "fookin bitter, eh".
Queue me totally losing it (I was also on massive amounts of speed and any drink available)and shouting (about three inches from their chin ... i'm short) "WE HAVEN'T GOT ANY FOOKIN BITTER! WE'VE ONLY GOT LEMONADE! HERE, HAVE A PINT.. NO HAVE A BOTTLE! , No Have TWO, THERE'S PLENTY OF IT!!. After a while I just started throwin huge plastic bottles of Lemonade at anyone who walked anywhere near the bar, while pogoing and shouting "Fook Off You fookin bastid FOOKERS". Tearing apart packets of crisps and nuts and throwing them at anyone I felt like. I had issues.

Funnily enough everyone though it was so bloody hilarious they kept asking me to do it at EVERY party anyone held in the area.
(Thu 13th Apr 2006, 19:54, More)

» Sacked

not sacked as such
..but contract not renewed.
For having an affair with the mistress of my Boss. Like, if it had been his wife I would have not been as surprised as I was.
Funnily enough a couple of months after I left his mistress married some other bloke with more money and the oportunity to get a British passport.

Bitter? No, but very bitter spending the next 4 years unemployed until I removed all my qualifications (including PhD) from my CV.
(Fri 24th Feb 2006, 19:53, More)
[read all their answers]