» I met a weirdo on the interweb

If Your bad you go to hull
Back when I was 19 I left college and agreed to go and work for my father for a couple of months in a boatyard on Hull, this involved me sitting around, reading the paper and saying things like “I could have my father fire you” whenever someone moaned about my total lack of work and motivation. Now being a country boy from the south Hull was a bit of an eye opener for me, I was particularly intrigued by the ladies of the night (but did not indulge … honest).

Anyway to cut a long story short I’d started talking to some girl who lived on Hull whom we’ll call “A” on AIM a little while before I left for my 2 months of work there, after I got talking to my co workers on my first day, they all invited me out that night. Upon meeting them at a pub called The Dram Shop (if memory serves) it soon became clear that their new purpose in life was to get the bosses son as drunk as possible and extract as many embarrassing stories about my father from me as they could. Now I have never been a violent drunk but a rather emotional one instead so by midnight I’m sat on the floor in the middle of the lobby in the hotel where we are all staying crying my eyes out and telling everyone how they don’t understand me.

The next day I had possibly the worst hangover I have ever experienced, made worse by the fact I was supplied with some coke and mixed my drunks all night, I decided to take things a little easier that night and I text the girl whom I had been talking to on AIM and she said to meet her that evening in The Dram Shop (a bad sign right away). That evening rolled around and I sat at the bar casually looking expectantly at every girl that walked in until in walked what can only be described as a blue haired punk/goth nightmare, now I have done the whole hair dye thing and thought that whatever the evening brought could only be an improvement on the night before so I gave her a chance.

After her mumbling for an hour and me trying to find ways of asking her to repeat everything she said so I might understand it she offered to take me out and about, within 5 minutes of getting into her car we had gone up on pavements, hit dustbins, gone through red lights whilst she played industrial metal as loud as she could, I then noticed there were an alarming amount of knives in the car and when I asked what they were for she just laughed and said “fun”!!!!. Upon arriving outside another pub I asked her how long she’d been driving, her reply was “oh on and off for years, I can only take the car when my parents are out as I don’t have a licence”, It turned out that not only did she not have a driving licence but she had never actually even had a driving lesson. Already startled by my encounter with the female antichrist I then realised she had driven me to the middle of nowhere and I had no idea how to get back to town alone if I had to. Inside I met some of her friends, and watched as a man of about 80 put his cock into the cage that contained a topless dancer (in the pub in the village where I’d grown up all we had was a juke box), for about 20 minutes one of her male friends tried to grab my old chap every chance he got while the rest of them talked about knives, guns and fuck knows what else.

I said i had to go make a call on my mobile outside and then ran as fast as my little legs would carry me, I eventually hailed a taxi and made it back to my hotel and vowed to only to go out with my co workers for the rest of my stay in Hull. I have never been back to Hull since and to be honest have little desire to, nor have I ever entered a chat room again.

This is my first time so you have no choice but to excuse my length
(Tue 21st Mar 2006, 14:37, More)

» Heckles

Stu Francis humiliated for my pleasure
Playing in a band I have heard many heckles but my favourite ever heckle wasn’t aimed at me but at Stu Francis (of 80’s Crackerjack fame).

When I was 18 my friends and I went to Devon for a week and stayed at a Pontins in Brixham (all my other friends went to Amsterdam and in hindsight I now kind of wish I had joined them). We went out every evening and got wankered, tried to meet girls and had fun, one evening we thought we’d see what the camp clubhouse had to offer before moving on to the town and discovered that Stu Francis was providing the entertainment for the evening.

Being children of the 80’s we thought we’d hang around, have a few drinks and see what the Stu Pot was up to. He went through his dull routine and unbelievably kept using his Crackerjack catchphrase “ohhh I could crush a grape” in between puns, the evening was off to a bad start and we started making plans for a night on the town when just after Stu yet again repeated his famous catchphrase “ohhh I could grape” someone from the crowd yelled “yeah but you can’t tell a fucking joke you prick”. Stu didn’t take this too well and being a family themed venue he couldn’t (or simply didn’t have the ability to) belittle and humiliate the heckler to shut him up.

His set continued and so did the heckler, we left after security started making their way over to the heckler after he screamed “if you say ohhh I could crush a grape one more time I’ll break your fucking legs Francis”.

As I laid in bed much, much later after many drinks and various substances I fell asleep to the sound of one of my friends vomit hitting the other side of the door to my room …again I wish I’d gone to Amsterdam.
(Sat 8th Apr 2006, 3:40, More)

» Road Rage

My First accident
I have a 1997 Mini Cooper and after many years of driving without one accident under my belt I was waiting to pull onto a roundabout when the car behind me decided to drive straight into the back of my car, his massive Peugeot caused considerable damage to my tiny Mini and I was thrown forward into the steering wheel during the crash.

Getting out of my car I calmly asked the chap who had driven into me if he was ok only to be greeted by a barrage of insults and him telling me there was a gap I could clearly of made, I pointed out that he had driven into me and that it was he who was about to lose his no claims bonus.

That was three weeks ago and ever since I have been driving around in my Ford Fiesta hire car, my driving has become a lot more aggressive in these last three weeks and my new hobby is not tolerating cunts on the road anymore. I especially hate people who get in the wrong lane at roundabouts just so they can get round faster and then push in at their junction. I drive as fast as I can parallel to them just so they have to stop dead and then wait for someone else to let them in.

So join me in not tolerating these idiots any longer, if you have someone tailgating you then simply slow down to 15mph (its fun knowing they are losing their minds behind you), if someone takes the spot you were about to park in simply wait for them to exit their car and leave and then set their car on fire, if someone changes lane without signalling on the motorway simply follow them home and smother them in their sleep.

The time is ours people, let’s take back the roads!
(Tue 17th Oct 2006, 18:40, More)

» School Sports Day

Injury=Comedy
At my school we had weeds, wets and fatties, I myself was a weed so not much was expected of me and that suited me just fine, During sports days I would normally only have to take part in the fun part at the end of the day which consisted of a kind of assault course where you would run through a series of fun obstacles (a kind of cheap southern version of the krypton factor). During my last year of school (and my last ever sports day) my French teacher took part in the assault course as most teachers did, but instead of ending the course by rolling over a crash matt then standing up and tagging the wall he rolled over the crash matt and slammed his head into the wall instead of tagging it.

Looking back I’m not sure what was funnier, the loud cheers after he slammed his skull against the concrete, the fact no one really seemed the care or go to his aid or the fact the following student took his face slam as his cue to start his run of the assault course.

Anyways he was a evil bastard and even now I feel no remorse about my part in laughing at his injury.
(Mon 3rd Apr 2006, 4:23, More)

» Stuff I've found

Returned purse = crap reward
I have always been rather adept at finding money but slightly let down by my own guilt. I often find the odd ten pound note or fiver and I don’t mind keeping them if only because they are impossible to return to their rightful owner but when I find a wallet or purse (which I have more times than you’d think) I have to hand them in.

Anyways I did happen upon a purse with several hundred pounds in once and luckily (or unluckily) the police were able to contact the owner after I handed it in, a week went by and I’d forgotten all about it when one day I returned home to find the most enormous bouquet of flowers. It seemed the owner was so grateful they bought them for me, the only problem being I’m male and was in my teens at the time so had little use for them.

I’m still glad I was able to return the purse to the owner who probable thought that they would never see the money again … and the flowers really brightened up the place too!!
(Tue 11th Nov 2008, 22:55, More)