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» The Best / Worst thing I've ever eaten

Neither me nor eaten, but...
...my medium clever flatmate took the biscuit for a special drink back in the 90s.

On some warm, beautiful day in june he bought a pack of grapefruit juice. He even drank a glass of it. Yuck! The very thought makes me cringe.

The really nasty part was yet to come. After drinking a glass full of that acid, he put the container not into the fridge but on top of it.

The next day he threw away all his food except for the juice, grabbed all his few brains and his girlfriend and mounted a plane to australia. We had a particularly hot summer for 6 weeks and all was very peaceful. We enjoyed ourselves as never before since that dick was as far away as possible.
Even the juice on top of the fridge relaxed in the heat; certainly somebody would have thrown it away if it had moved or spoken to us. Which it didn't.

He returned on one of the last hot days of august. When entering the flat, he was very busy bragging about his heavy luggage, the heat and his thirst. Oh yeah damn, he had thrown away all his food instead of offering it to his flatmates.
But wait! What's that on top of the fridge? "Oh right! MY GRAPEFRUIT JUICE!" exclaimed he and took it from the fridge.
So he remembered it. He couldn't seriously think about drinking it? He could. Directly from the container. He lifted it to his dried-up lips awaiting refreshment - but it didn't pour. What was he thinking when the "juice" refused to leave its tetrapak home?
Apparently nothing. Some evil demon in him told him NOT TO SURRENDER SO CLOSE TO HIS AIM.

So he pushed the container. Still no juice. Still with the nozzle on his lips, he pushed harder until THE SUBSTANCE came out. It wasn't really liquid any more; this could clearly be seen when he spat it on the kitchen floor, surrounded by a cloud of mould. That taught him!
(Mon 30th May 2011, 13:43, More)

» Pointless Experiments

Self- medication, McGyver- style
Back in the days when men were men and sheep were nervous, i got myself a souvenir from the public swimming pool. Between two of my toes, the skin started doing things you shouldn't see before breakfast (or only if you plan a diet). It even stank.
Here curiosity came in: Could i cure this myself by sterilization?
I poured some grain alcohol over it which of course burned like, well, like grain alcohol in a festering wound. Felt good afterwards. Repeated that twice a day and it was gone after three days. Whee! Alcohol made my day again!

BTW, don't spill grain alcohol over your private parts. You'll want a shower very, very quickly, i told you.
Apologies for bad english. Length? Go stick your head in a pig.
(Wed 30th Jul 2008, 17:00, More)

» DIY disasters

How to anonymize your index finger
(Excuses for missing english vocabulary. Period)

It's so easy. You just need a motorbike, need for an oil change and some strength of will.

1. Drive the motorbike for 20 miles. Park it in your best friend's yard.

2. Place an oil change container under it. (It's a flat plastic container with a 8x8 in. hollow which has a hole at the bottom).

3. Unscrew the oil-drain plug from the oil sump. Hot oil pours out in a thick stream.

4. Drop the plug right into the hollow of the container. The plug fits into the hole of the container like youknowwhat, keeping the oil from running into the container. However, the motorbike still pisses its hot oil into the hollow.

5. Do what a hero would do: Avoid the spilling of 3 liters of hot oil by sticking your index finger up in the hole in the oil sump. Ignore the pain.

6. With your free hand, try to free the hole in the mold. Might take a minute if the screw fits really good.

7. If you got the screw out, the time for cursing and cooling your burnt finger has come. Wait a few days until the skin comes off.

Any motorbike holiday will become a very special amusement, not to mention the joy of putting on your gloves. Yummy!
My left index finger has only traces of a fingerprint since then.

Length? About 30 seconds for getting that plug out of the hole. Felt longer, somehow.
(Sat 5th Apr 2008, 20:50, More)

» Crazy Relatives

Crazy? Tell me who's not...
On typical days my granny is one of the shy, friendly and stone-deaf kind who seldom really annoys anyone.
On the weaker days she enters her preferred cafe for a piece of cake and a coffee, finds out she forgot her money and rants herself out of the situation: "The coffee was cold and the cake tasted foul!" Grabs her stuff and body-checks the waitress aside, leaving the cafe.
Waitress told me they already got used to this and just add the bill silently to the new bill of the next day. Granny doesn't notice anyway. I'd prefer to drop dead before i become like that.
(Thu 12th Jul 2007, 17:25, More)

» DIY Surgery

Blessings of alcohol, chapter 1247
Some 15 years ago i spent an afternoon at the lido. A very slightly scruffy one. That same evening, something started itching between two toes of my left foot. The colour changed in a beautiful way, but the itching started to annoy. By next morning, the experience was enhanced by the skin drooling some liquid. (Didn't hurt, though.) Oh, and it stank unlike anything my feet ever produced.
This was clearly a new surgery project! First attempt: Pour some grain alcohol over it. This made me sing and dance for a few minutes, but it felt good afterwards in a way an emptied bladder feels well.
After repeating this a dozen times over three days, everything looked, felt and smelled fine! Alcohol made my day (externally applied). Yay!
(Fri 21st Jan 2011, 18:33, More)
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