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- a member for 17 years, 6 months and 8 days
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- has posted 55 messages on the talk board
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- has posted 4 stories and 0 replies on question of the week
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» Going Too Far
Glue
When I was 4 I went to a playgroup at a church hall near by to where we lived. I was a timid child at most of the time until they gave me a rideable yellow wheatabix lorry to try and make me engage in the group. From then on I obsessively rode my lorry and even screamed when they wouldnt let me take it home. All the other kids knew that it was my lorry apart from one who (as I found out only the other day actually has autism) was a bit of a spacker. Anyway to the crux of the story, one day me mum dropped me off a bit late as we had been delayed somehow, to my horror the spacker was on MY lorry!!! I hit him he cried and he surrendered the lorry, I triumphantly howled got a warning from the playgroup leader but all was fine I had my lorry. This sounds like a standard possessive kid and his favourite toy story, where did he go to far you probably dont care. Well for the rest of the day I bided my time, while all the while circling said spack around the church hall. When he went to the toilet I followed him in, still on the lorry and out of sight and earshot preceded to beat the crap out of him and left him lying in the urinal, blubbing away like a little baby.
I still miss the Wheatabix lorry, it was my only friend until primary school, I got kicked out a couple of weeks later for biting a girl who tried to ride my pride ang joy, kinky eh?
(Tue 14th Nov 2006, 13:37, More)
Glue
When I was 4 I went to a playgroup at a church hall near by to where we lived. I was a timid child at most of the time until they gave me a rideable yellow wheatabix lorry to try and make me engage in the group. From then on I obsessively rode my lorry and even screamed when they wouldnt let me take it home. All the other kids knew that it was my lorry apart from one who (as I found out only the other day actually has autism) was a bit of a spacker. Anyway to the crux of the story, one day me mum dropped me off a bit late as we had been delayed somehow, to my horror the spacker was on MY lorry!!! I hit him he cried and he surrendered the lorry, I triumphantly howled got a warning from the playgroup leader but all was fine I had my lorry. This sounds like a standard possessive kid and his favourite toy story, where did he go to far you probably dont care. Well for the rest of the day I bided my time, while all the while circling said spack around the church hall. When he went to the toilet I followed him in, still on the lorry and out of sight and earshot preceded to beat the crap out of him and left him lying in the urinal, blubbing away like a little baby.
I still miss the Wheatabix lorry, it was my only friend until primary school, I got kicked out a couple of weeks later for biting a girl who tried to ride my pride ang joy, kinky eh?
(Tue 14th Nov 2006, 13:37, More)
» Where is the strangest place you have slept?
Sleep? Pah!
Liverpool, next years European City of Culture, also the place where I spent the night fucking a girl in an empty skip using only a tarpaulin as a blanket, we were too pissed as well so afterwards in that post orgasmic chill period we both fell asleep and woke up the next morning, fully clothed with a young scally poking us with a pogo stick.
The Mamories!
(Thu 4th Jan 2007, 21:51, More)
Sleep? Pah!
Liverpool, next years European City of Culture, also the place where I spent the night fucking a girl in an empty skip using only a tarpaulin as a blanket, we were too pissed as well so afterwards in that post orgasmic chill period we both fell asleep and woke up the next morning, fully clothed with a young scally poking us with a pogo stick.
The Mamories!
(Thu 4th Jan 2007, 21:51, More)
» Going Too Far
Drug cocktail.
A bit of scene setting, first time I met the guy he was off his face on Coke, squatting in a house he was meant to be decorating while the owners were away. This is a man that when it comes to drinking proclaims that eatings cheating as is sleeping.
So our friend Tony, is slightly unhinged and instead of attending his best mates wedding as the best man in South Africa, he spent the 3 weeks in St Bernards NHS mental Health unit.
How he got there is a joy to hear.
In addition to being a cokehead Tony is also an alcholic, shakey and slurry. Tony embarked on a pre-trip drinking binge and by binge I mean 20 odd pints starting at 11 am and continuing long into the night. During this binge in his local whinebar, Tony misplaces his passport and when we got booted out, we all go our separate ways. Tony somewhat more meandering his way home in that drunken determined way that pissed people do. When he realised he lost his passport Tony smashed a window, with his head. Unleashing an inhumane scream, that I heard half way back to my house, Tony proceeds to run up one side of the local promenade smashing all the windows with his forehead, seemingly oblivious to the obvious bleeding and I would guess substantial pain, then back down on the other side of the road with a similar trend. Needless to say when he was arrested it took several officers to aprehend him (it later emerged the crazy bastard had not only been drinking, he had been on the coke as well as choosing that night to dabble with pcp), he was stuck in a meat wagon and carted off to the mental home. They gave him some sedatives and when he woke up 2 days later he had no clue where he was but was shocked to see my mate Joe's ex-housemate in the bed next to him. What a coincidence.
(Mon 13th Nov 2006, 13:54, More)
Drug cocktail.
A bit of scene setting, first time I met the guy he was off his face on Coke, squatting in a house he was meant to be decorating while the owners were away. This is a man that when it comes to drinking proclaims that eatings cheating as is sleeping.
So our friend Tony, is slightly unhinged and instead of attending his best mates wedding as the best man in South Africa, he spent the 3 weeks in St Bernards NHS mental Health unit.
How he got there is a joy to hear.
In addition to being a cokehead Tony is also an alcholic, shakey and slurry. Tony embarked on a pre-trip drinking binge and by binge I mean 20 odd pints starting at 11 am and continuing long into the night. During this binge in his local whinebar, Tony misplaces his passport and when we got booted out, we all go our separate ways. Tony somewhat more meandering his way home in that drunken determined way that pissed people do. When he realised he lost his passport Tony smashed a window, with his head. Unleashing an inhumane scream, that I heard half way back to my house, Tony proceeds to run up one side of the local promenade smashing all the windows with his forehead, seemingly oblivious to the obvious bleeding and I would guess substantial pain, then back down on the other side of the road with a similar trend. Needless to say when he was arrested it took several officers to aprehend him (it later emerged the crazy bastard had not only been drinking, he had been on the coke as well as choosing that night to dabble with pcp), he was stuck in a meat wagon and carted off to the mental home. They gave him some sedatives and when he woke up 2 days later he had no clue where he was but was shocked to see my mate Joe's ex-housemate in the bed next to him. What a coincidence.
(Mon 13th Nov 2006, 13:54, More)
» Dentists
Scary old man
I have never had a filling, but I have been to both Dentists and Orthopaedists privately for years. Anyway, as me Grandad was GP he knew a dentist whose practice was on Harley Street (posh posh posh) I suppose the clue was in his name Mr Clifton-Sammuel. I remember as a small child being absolutely pretrified of this lecherous child-catching old man, made far worse by the fact his waiting room was covered head to toe in UKIP propaganda and newspaper clippings of what he would call Fuzzies doing bad deeds, he said he liked them up there to remind people of the reason that the UK as a nation should be mindful of who we let in and who we deal with. The old man (who's teeth were appalling it must be said) had a different assistant everytime I went all of whom were busty and pretty, but horribly incompetent, but did I care? Yes I fucking did! The image of a squinting old man examining you while a otherwise attractive torture wench held me down scarred me for many years. I havent been to the dentist since and I still have my winning smile!
(Thu 2nd Nov 2006, 19:53, More)
Scary old man
I have never had a filling, but I have been to both Dentists and Orthopaedists privately for years. Anyway, as me Grandad was GP he knew a dentist whose practice was on Harley Street (posh posh posh) I suppose the clue was in his name Mr Clifton-Sammuel. I remember as a small child being absolutely pretrified of this lecherous child-catching old man, made far worse by the fact his waiting room was covered head to toe in UKIP propaganda and newspaper clippings of what he would call Fuzzies doing bad deeds, he said he liked them up there to remind people of the reason that the UK as a nation should be mindful of who we let in and who we deal with. The old man (who's teeth were appalling it must be said) had a different assistant everytime I went all of whom were busty and pretty, but horribly incompetent, but did I care? Yes I fucking did! The image of a squinting old man examining you while a otherwise attractive torture wench held me down scarred me for many years. I havent been to the dentist since and I still have my winning smile!
(Thu 2nd Nov 2006, 19:53, More)