Profile for CaptainParalytic:
Located in Cambridge (well, a fenland border village), via Blackburn and the outskirts of Johannesburg.
Working as a tech writer, but I'd much rather be running a combined second hand record shop and pub - like High Fidelity meets Early Doors.
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
[read all their answers]
- a member for 18 years, 0 months and 30 days
- has posted 1 messages on the main board
- has posted 0 messages on the talk board
- has posted 0 messages on the links board
- has posted 9 stories and 14 replies on question of the week
- They liked 2 pictures, 0 links, 0 talk posts, and 209 qotw answers.
- Ignore this user
- Add this user as a friend
- send me a message
Located in Cambridge (well, a fenland border village), via Blackburn and the outskirts of Johannesburg.
Working as a tech writer, but I'd much rather be running a combined second hand record shop and pub - like High Fidelity meets Early Doors.
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
» Shoplifting
Hardened OAP villain
Does it count as shoplifting if you're old, it's accidental, and you leave a small token of gratitude?
A few years ago, I escorted my great aunt Vera for what was to be her final visit to the family in South Africa (at 82, she was nervous about travelling alone from Manchester). The sun's a bit brighter there, so we took her to the local shopping mall for some cheap sunglasses. It's full of designer boutiques, and she couldn't find any that suited her at the overpriced tourist trap shops - and, as it was almost 11am, a lunchtime pint seemed a good idea.
A few hydraulic sandwiches later, she mentioned everything was a bit dark and slightly out of focus. I looked up and realised why - earlier, I'd persuaded her to try on some Raybans (definitely not cheap, even with the exchange rate) in the Bono/Pope stylee, and she'd left her £3 Boots reading glasses on the display rack while trying them on, and walked out with the Raybans on.
I suppose we could have gone back and sorted things out at the shop, but she was terrified of the security guard at the door (they carry guns there), and wouldn't believe me that the death penalty had been abolished.
(Thu 10th Jan 2008, 14:09, More)
Hardened OAP villain
Does it count as shoplifting if you're old, it's accidental, and you leave a small token of gratitude?
A few years ago, I escorted my great aunt Vera for what was to be her final visit to the family in South Africa (at 82, she was nervous about travelling alone from Manchester). The sun's a bit brighter there, so we took her to the local shopping mall for some cheap sunglasses. It's full of designer boutiques, and she couldn't find any that suited her at the overpriced tourist trap shops - and, as it was almost 11am, a lunchtime pint seemed a good idea.
A few hydraulic sandwiches later, she mentioned everything was a bit dark and slightly out of focus. I looked up and realised why - earlier, I'd persuaded her to try on some Raybans (definitely not cheap, even with the exchange rate) in the Bono/Pope stylee, and she'd left her £3 Boots reading glasses on the display rack while trying them on, and walked out with the Raybans on.
I suppose we could have gone back and sorted things out at the shop, but she was terrified of the security guard at the door (they carry guns there), and wouldn't believe me that the death penalty had been abolished.
(Thu 10th Jan 2008, 14:09, More)
» Personal Ads
Confessions of a serial monogamist
As an interweb virgin in South Africa in mid '96, I quickly discovered the wonders of a world full of women who had no idea about my reputation. I posted an ad on various sites and waited for the replies, not expecting too many...
First one was an ad agency "exec". Arranged to meet at a local pub, but she was late. When she eventually pitched up, she was a bit jittery. Turned out they'd had a party at work to celebrate a new account, and she'd consumed rather more coke than Coke. So far so good, I thought, until she invited me into the ladies' with her to carry on the party. At 7pm-ish on a Tuesday, in a pub full of after-work yuppie scum. Tempting as her offer was, I had to decline, as I have a policy about getting stoned with a woman before I've shagged her.
Next was K from Seattle. We emailed for a while, then I got her phone number and a photo and called her. Lovely soft voice, looked attractive in her pic. Carried on emailing and phoning for a while, then she decided to visit me. After travelling for 32 hours, she arrived at Joburg airport on a sunny Sunday morning. I then realised what she'd meant by "Rubinesque". 6'1, the wrong side of 20 stone, dressed in dungaree shorts, green tights and 21-hole Docs. I don't think the looks I was getting from the other people were "You jammy sod", somehow. Anyway, she spent a week with me, met my parents, and introduced me to the definite delights of the larger woman. I promised to visit her as soon as I could, with the unmentioned motive of two weeks' free accommodation and chauffering around while job hunting in Seattle.
The big day. My first long-haul flight on my own, via Heathrow. The trip was surprisingly fun, the interviews went well, and Washington State is a great place - not really America at all. The only semi-scary experience was being stoned and underneath her on a king-size heated waterbed - it's like being smothered under a soft heavy mattress.
Got back to SA, met the first Mrs Paralytic a week later (on a US dating site, but we lived about a mile apart, and she'd been involved with a bloke I was at school with). Dumped K by email. As it begins, so shall it end. I was eternally grateful of the Atlantic and a few thousand miles of North America that separated me from K's understandable ire.
Marriage inevitably ended after a few years back in the UK, so back into the net personals. In the five years since I'd last used it, the number of gorgeous blonde Russian and Bulgarian women with net access had increased immensely. Especially those who were desperately looking for a tall scruffy mid-30s bloke from Blackburn.
Since then, I've done things the conventional way. At a mate's wedding, I met the Blow Job Queen of Borehamwood, for an extended meaningful overnight relationship. Now settled down with an early-30s hairdresser from Essex who has a predeliction for dressing up as a schoolgirl. Separated at birth from Nina Birch. Google her. You know you want to.
(Thu 13th Sep 2007, 16:07, More)
Confessions of a serial monogamist
As an interweb virgin in South Africa in mid '96, I quickly discovered the wonders of a world full of women who had no idea about my reputation. I posted an ad on various sites and waited for the replies, not expecting too many...
First one was an ad agency "exec". Arranged to meet at a local pub, but she was late. When she eventually pitched up, she was a bit jittery. Turned out they'd had a party at work to celebrate a new account, and she'd consumed rather more coke than Coke. So far so good, I thought, until she invited me into the ladies' with her to carry on the party. At 7pm-ish on a Tuesday, in a pub full of after-work yuppie scum. Tempting as her offer was, I had to decline, as I have a policy about getting stoned with a woman before I've shagged her.
Next was K from Seattle. We emailed for a while, then I got her phone number and a photo and called her. Lovely soft voice, looked attractive in her pic. Carried on emailing and phoning for a while, then she decided to visit me. After travelling for 32 hours, she arrived at Joburg airport on a sunny Sunday morning. I then realised what she'd meant by "Rubinesque". 6'1, the wrong side of 20 stone, dressed in dungaree shorts, green tights and 21-hole Docs. I don't think the looks I was getting from the other people were "You jammy sod", somehow. Anyway, she spent a week with me, met my parents, and introduced me to the definite delights of the larger woman. I promised to visit her as soon as I could, with the unmentioned motive of two weeks' free accommodation and chauffering around while job hunting in Seattle.
The big day. My first long-haul flight on my own, via Heathrow. The trip was surprisingly fun, the interviews went well, and Washington State is a great place - not really America at all. The only semi-scary experience was being stoned and underneath her on a king-size heated waterbed - it's like being smothered under a soft heavy mattress.
Got back to SA, met the first Mrs Paralytic a week later (on a US dating site, but we lived about a mile apart, and she'd been involved with a bloke I was at school with). Dumped K by email. As it begins, so shall it end. I was eternally grateful of the Atlantic and a few thousand miles of North America that separated me from K's understandable ire.
Marriage inevitably ended after a few years back in the UK, so back into the net personals. In the five years since I'd last used it, the number of gorgeous blonde Russian and Bulgarian women with net access had increased immensely. Especially those who were desperately looking for a tall scruffy mid-30s bloke from Blackburn.
Since then, I've done things the conventional way. At a mate's wedding, I met the Blow Job Queen of Borehamwood, for an extended meaningful overnight relationship. Now settled down with an early-30s hairdresser from Essex who has a predeliction for dressing up as a schoolgirl. Separated at birth from Nina Birch. Google her. You know you want to.
(Thu 13th Sep 2007, 16:07, More)
» Heckles
...and Bruce Ferry
Not quite a heckle, but just as effective. Human Rights Concert in Harare in '88 - Tracy Chapman, Peter Gabriel, Bruce Springsteen, Sting and various others. It was in Zimbabwe because of the sanctions in South Africa - unsurprisingly, most of the audience had made the long journey from SA.
Huge banner at the back of the stadium: "We love you Brian Springsteen"...
Cherry popping? It's always less painful second time around...
(Fri 7th Apr 2006, 9:17, More)
...and Bruce Ferry
Not quite a heckle, but just as effective. Human Rights Concert in Harare in '88 - Tracy Chapman, Peter Gabriel, Bruce Springsteen, Sting and various others. It was in Zimbabwe because of the sanctions in South Africa - unsurprisingly, most of the audience had made the long journey from SA.
Huge banner at the back of the stadium: "We love you Brian Springsteen"...
Cherry popping? It's always less painful second time around...
(Fri 7th Apr 2006, 9:17, More)
» Personal Ads
Bulgarians, violas and Scrabble
Back in the days before the electronic umbilical, I placed a newspaper ad - mate's girlfriend worked in the classified section, so it was free. Three totally varied replies:
First, the gorgeous Bulgarian who wanted a marriage of financially-supported convenience. As I was mortgaged up to the eyeballs, and had a scary overdraft, that wasn't going to work, tempting as the offer of a night in a hotel with her and her best mate seemed at the time.
Next, the music student with impressive frontage. All was going well, met her parents, went to a family wedding, watched her playing her viola while naked in the pool - the usual "we might have a future" stuff. Got home from work one day to find a note explaining that it wasn't going to work - her parents thought I was a bit common. Not too upset about that - after all, she was German.
Final one - over a year later, the phone rings at midnight on a Saturday. She's in a psychiatric hospital (as a voluntary patient), and wants to see me the next day. Not a problem - this might be fun. When I get there (with the obligatory bunch of petrol station flowers), she's in a flowing white dress (not quite wedding, but...) - we sit in the car for a while, chatting, holding hands - then she says those magic words "I want you - now". It is possible in the front seat of a Mk 2 Astra, but I've had more comfortable experiences. Not sure if it was guilt or the sudden "what the fuck are we doing making the beast with two backs in a mental hospital car park?" thing, but she thanked me, and ran back to her room. Saw her a few times after, but we sat in the visitors' lounge playing Scrabble - intellectually more challenging, but somehow less exciting...
(Fri 14th Sep 2007, 16:02, More)
Bulgarians, violas and Scrabble
Back in the days before the electronic umbilical, I placed a newspaper ad - mate's girlfriend worked in the classified section, so it was free. Three totally varied replies:
First, the gorgeous Bulgarian who wanted a marriage of financially-supported convenience. As I was mortgaged up to the eyeballs, and had a scary overdraft, that wasn't going to work, tempting as the offer of a night in a hotel with her and her best mate seemed at the time.
Next, the music student with impressive frontage. All was going well, met her parents, went to a family wedding, watched her playing her viola while naked in the pool - the usual "we might have a future" stuff. Got home from work one day to find a note explaining that it wasn't going to work - her parents thought I was a bit common. Not too upset about that - after all, she was German.
Final one - over a year later, the phone rings at midnight on a Saturday. She's in a psychiatric hospital (as a voluntary patient), and wants to see me the next day. Not a problem - this might be fun. When I get there (with the obligatory bunch of petrol station flowers), she's in a flowing white dress (not quite wedding, but...) - we sit in the car for a while, chatting, holding hands - then she says those magic words "I want you - now". It is possible in the front seat of a Mk 2 Astra, but I've had more comfortable experiences. Not sure if it was guilt or the sudden "what the fuck are we doing making the beast with two backs in a mental hospital car park?" thing, but she thanked me, and ran back to her room. Saw her a few times after, but we sat in the visitors' lounge playing Scrabble - intellectually more challenging, but somehow less exciting...
(Fri 14th Sep 2007, 16:02, More)