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» Shoplifting

Educating the nation
When I was around 12 or so, my best friend and I went through a phase of shoplifting pocket dictionaries (or other improving literature) and then planting them in stupid-looking people's bags and pockets on the tube home.
(Mon 14th Jan 2008, 14:52, More)

» Body Mods

The music hurt my ear(s)
I wear five earrings in my right ear. Once during an orchestra concert I had 50-odd bars rest (a couple of minutes-worth) and, being tired from lots of blowing, held my flute upright on my lap and leaned my weary head against it. Earrings and flute keys mingled. Try to move. Oh dear. Have to play solo line in x seconds and flute is stuck to ear. Shit, ouch, bastard thing, etc.

I did manage to yank it free in time, but at the price of a painful bleeding earlobe and wobbly G and G# keys (hence an even more painful wallet).
(Tue 5th Dec 2006, 12:41, More)

» Housemates from hell

I know it's not QOTW, but I thought I'd share a nice story
Having spent my first couple of years at uni living with some of the girliest girls around (can't remember quite why... oh yes, finding affordable housing in the area was a cut-throat and desperate business), for my third year I decided I'd had enough, and moved in with a brickie and a plumber.

It took me a little while to get used to the fact that they would invite all their mates from the building site round to drink a crate of Special Brew and watch porn films - at 10 in the morning, but it wasn't actually a problem or anything. They were actually really tidy too, and always washed up.

The day I moved in, I went to the pub, and found they had looked through all my stuff. Nothing was taken and nothing was moved. So how did I know? Because they told me how astounded they were by how many books I had (about a dozen), and had I really read them all? The brickie proudly told me "I read a book once. It was about that Ghengis Khan, and his horse Mongol".

I once had a massive go at them for going out and leaving all the windows on the ground floor open. Their response? "This isn't London, you know. It's a small town, and we know all the local burglars. They're our mates and they wouldn't nick from us." And they didn't.

With my studenty female friends, I sometimes used to walk past the building site where most of them worked. They would shout out stuff like:
"Awright darlin ... get your tits out luv ...." etc. Then:
"Hang on a minute, that's Dan's flatmate. Oops, sorry, Dan's flatmate - didn't mean you, was talking to the other birds. How's it going?"
Then, when I'd gone past, back to shouting about tits.

And they often offered me a can of their Special Brew. I almost got to like it.
(Sun 8th Apr 2007, 14:00, More)

» Sleepwalking

Tips for bored insomniacs
An ex of mine surprised me one night by suddenly leaping out of bed then dragging me out too, while shouting that we had to get out of the way of the avalanche. Although I had a splinter in my arse (from being dragged naked onto my classy bare floorboards), I thought it was rather sweet that even while fast asleep, he'd gone back to save me from the avalanche. Being of a sweet disposition myself, I didn't complain, but thanked him for rescuing me.

Being of an insomniac disposition, I kept an eye and ear out for future sleep-walking and -talking, and engaged him in conversation when I could. It was fascinating. I found out that he would sometimes remember things I had said to him while asleep, but would think it was a character from the dream that had said them, rather than me.

Unfortunately, he turned out to be a complete twat. Between realising this and getting my act together to end it, I started experimenting with planting ideas in his head. Nothing too sinister... First maybe tickling him and whispering that there were aliens crawling over him (jumped in the air and screamed like a goddam girl). Then telling him there was a flood and we had to run and get on the 'boat' (his absent flatmate's desk - got a photo of him sitting on it, naked and clinging onto the anglepoise for dear life). I suppose the time he stuck his knob in my hand - while fast asleep after a blazing row, no less - and I made him think his stepdad was giving him hand relief was perhaps a bit mean. But believe me, he was a cheating twat, and the face he made when he woke up and remembered...
(Tue 28th Aug 2007, 0:54, More)

» Beautiful but Bonkers

Pillow killer
While at university, I had a spare pillow which I dressed in a T-shirt (with a face on it) and referred to as 'Ashley'. Sort of thing that seems hilarious when you're 20.

Anyway, my then boyfriend took a dislike to Ashley. Whenever he was left alone in my room, I would return and find him enacting bizarre and sometimes violent fantasies with Ashley. The pillow.

- Balancing Ashley against an upturned breadknife and informing me that he was committing hara-kiri.
- Emptying my bottle of paracetamol and leaving the empty bottle (with a few scattered pills) on Ashley. And writing a suicide note to go with it.
- Dressing Ashley up in my lingerie and hiding him in my wardrobe, then informing me that he was 'coming out of the closet ... he's gay now and doesn't like you any more'.
(Wed 22nd Nov 2006, 20:25, More)
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