» Impulse buys

kntting armadillo
There was a really cool old bric-a-brac/antique shop up where i live, i used to go in and peruse the nonsense that he had for sale.

Then one day i saw the holy grail, not literally, but metaphorically. It was the skin of an Armadillo, with its tail meeting its nose to form a rude handle. the rest of thebody shell now formed a basket that was lined with silk. It was bizarre, weird, awful and magnetic. I had to have it.

He told me it was for holding wool while knitting....now, i don't knit and i don't know anyone who does..But such trivial facts where not gonna put me off.

Price was sought, haggled over and agreed on. It was now mine.

It generally horrifes all who see it. But thats because they are soft cunts

Armadillo wool basket, i love thee!
(Thu 21st May 2009, 13:44, More)

» Puns

What kind of bees can you get milk from?
Boobies.




*runs*
(Thu 5th Mar 2009, 13:11, More)

» The B3TA Detective Agency

Mystery of the Santa Cat
Many years ago when I was as at school i returned home to find nobody was in, so, i sat myself down on the doorstep and awaited the return of a keyholder.

After about 10 minutes or so a cat turned the corner, a cat that I was familiar with, although I had no idea who it belonged to. I would stop and pet said cat whenever I saw it and it would generally run over to me when beckoned.

Sure enough, it runs over for a clap, but when i put my hand down it hits my hand as if to scratch it, but uses no claws. It then runs to the corner of the houses and stands waiting. It paces about, meowing and walking up the up the path and back again. As I am doing nothing better i decide to go down and see what the fuss is.

As i approached, the cat would walk off ahead, always keeping a distance, always looking back to see if i was still there. It's still making lots of noise and generally acting really weird. I continue to follow it up the path and round the side of a large rhodendrum. This bush was large enough that we kids could play inside it and it had an entrance as such. As I turned round the side of the bush it was in this entrance that the cat was sitting, proud as could be beside a stack of board games. They were in amazing condition, yet not brand new. There must have been about 7 different games, including Electronic Battleships. I could scarcely believe it. The cat was purring away happily beside this haul of goodies. I gave the cat and my head a scratch then made off with my treasure.

I had a reasonably hard time convincing my parents on how exactly i found all these games, but they didn't protest too much and i was allowed to keep them, and for the record Electronic Battleships was a convoluted piece of shit.
(Mon 17th Oct 2011, 14:37, More)

» Unemployed

Liquid paper, liquid lunch.
A LOT of my unemployed days were spent up at my 'friends' house, Craigy "coonta" Sommerville. The olive skinned result of a liason between a malaysian sailor and a very white scottish strumpet.

He had other comedy nicknames, such as - Lamborghini Coontach, and Paula Abdul to name but a few. He never seeemed to mind, incidentally.

He was also the most profilic, bare faced liar you ever had the displeasure to meet, however, he had a 4 bedroom detached villa and it was empty, all day, every day.

Anyway, i arrive at his place, intent on a day packed with Going For Gold, The Perishers and vast amounts of inhalants.

Oh yes, kind reader, in my youth i danced with the devil, in a big way.

On this day our cups truly did runneth over. Not only did we have the usual lemon air freshener, special cancer edition, but we had a few bottles of the old Tippex and it's even nastier sister, Tippex Thinner.

So, we decanted the evilness into a crisp packet and started huffing, and huffing, aaaaaaaand projectile vomiting, all over the bathroom floor.

Now, this wouldn't have been that bad, had we not just consumed a family sized tin of Heinz Tomato Soup, each. The resulting slurry must have looked exactly like blood, because Coonta started jibbering and freaking out big time. Staggering about the place like the pathetic cunt he was, but not as pathetic as me. Lying there, gurgling and bubbling red effluence.

Eventually he smells the stomach soup and decides i'm not dying. However he does have the problem of a half litre of bile and tomato soup to contend with.

My head is fucking BOUNCING and i genuinely think i am going over to the other side, tunnel vision kicks in and i nearly piss myself.

All the while i can hear Henry Kelly quizzing non UK Nationals about the birthplace of Shakespeare.

Sven from Norway eventually guesses correctly.
(Mon 6th Apr 2009, 16:27, More)

» Hypocrisy

DON'T show me your tits
Why is that woman, or the vast majority of, take the time, and the effort to dress themselves in such a way so that their boobies are 'on display'. Then have the gall to be outraged if they catch you ogling the goods.

WHAT?

On a night out, a girl who resembled a chinese hobbit was wearing.....no.....had a top dangling from her tits, and they were just there, in all their pasty glory.

Now, i didn't have any sexual interest in her or her albino puppies, but whilst talking to her, your eyes were drawn to the spongey vista. Mid-conversation she said, not in an annoyed way, but said none the less, something along the lines of 'yeah, once you stop looking at my tits'....

I told her to shut up and cover them up then, she laughed, i laughed, but i hated her from that moment on.

What is it all about. What if men had the desire to dress in such a way that they revealed a bit of ball sack or veiny bangstick and strutted about proudly waving their 'attributes' for all sundry to see. Surely they would be hoping to draw attention to it, HOPING that someone would be ogling their wares.

Why can't woman just keep their tits under their jumpers, after all, 'the unknown' is the greatest turn on of all.
(Fri 20th Feb 2009, 17:16, More)