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» Shit Stories: Part Number Two

My Dad worked for years in Construction in England. One of his jobs was to round up able bodied men in the area capable with a bit of training of using a shovel.
One such shovel monkey was John. John had the social skills of an amoeba and was the type to work simply to earn enough to quench his thirst for ale.
One Monday morning John being worse for ware from night before decided that an immediate bowel movement was necessary. He found himself a quietish corner and proceeded to curl one out for Ireland.
While pulling up his kaks he happened to spy on his latest creation and what he saw terrified him. He had made pooh waffles. As in his pooh looked just like mini waffles. So, petrified that something was seriously wrong with him he ran for my Dad. He brings my Dad over explaining that there must be something fucked up going on. My dad looked at his poor ashen face and asked him to turn around. John did so to reveal much to my Dad's disgust and amusement a massive shit stain at the bottom of his string vest. Nice.
From that day forth, John was to be forever known as Waffles.
(Tue 1st Apr 2008, 14:31, More)

» Drunk Parents

My parents are the best fun
My parents are bloody brilliant. They are 67 and 65 years of age and still to this day put me to shame in terms of their energy, lust for life and work ethic. They are - I'm glad to say - great company to go for a drink with. I'm so glad I can do this as I know so many people who would never dream of going for a pint with their folks. They've just left after spending the weekend with Mrs Kerrymonkey and I. They did 3 nights out in a row starting with a wedding on Friday. They don't make them like that any more.

They were both young Irish immigrants when they met, fell in love and married in England in the early / mid - 60s where they lived until 1977. During this time my Dad had a pretty good well paid job with a construction firm. My four older siblings were born during this time. Life was rather good.

Now Dad is an ace Irish Coffee maker. He just has the knack of getting the whole coffee to whiskey to brown sugar to cream levels just perfect. In years gone by when they had people over for dinner or drinks Dad would very often at the end of the night make a round of Irish Coffees for everyone. This was very much my Dad's domain.

One night however they had guests over for an evening which was a mixture of relatives and friends. It was quite the night by all accounts. plenty of whatever booze was popular with folks in the early 70s - cans of SKOL? Fuck knows. Now as much as Mum loves a good shindig she has never been much of a drinker. She'll have a few but is not one to knock - em back. On this night however she was flying and had a right skin full. So much so that she insisted on making the Irish Coffees that night. Dad was clearly reluctant but eventually relented and let her off while he continued chatting with his mates.

So off trots Mum - all 5ft nothing of her - to make the Irish Coffees. She's in the kitchen on her own and they can hear the kettle boiling and spoons stirring etc as she gets to work. Finally she enters the room carrying a tray of what can only be described as glasses of hideousness. For while she had perfectly measured out the proportions of boiling water - whiskey - cream and sugar, in her inebriated state she had omitted the all too crucial coffee. She had essentially made hot whiskeys with cream on top. She's never lived that one down and nearly 40 years later to poor girl still cringes with embarrassment when Dad gleefully reminds her.

Best parents in the world.
(Tue 1st Mar 2011, 10:07, More)

» I'm your biggest Fan

Friends in low places
My wife swears this to be true and because she's my wife I believe her. It’s also my favourite meeting your hero story.
Mid 90's Ireland was a strange place. In such strange places and times the cretin Garth Brooks was able to sell out huge shows night after night.

Anyway Mrs Monkey had a school pal who adored Mr Brooks. Adored. The girl was infatuated. Like I say mid 90's Ireland, strange place. Garth Brooks is playing Dublin that week. Luckily for the "Garthlover" her daddy was quite the bigwig with contacts with the promoters. He arranged for the Garthlover to meet the Stetson wearing turd after the gig. Lovely for her.

Come night of the gig she sings her heart out from the front row. All the time thinking of the moment when she'd get to meet her hero. The more she thought about it the more the nerves started to jangle. However she put it to the back of her mind and enjoyed the gig.

The gig ended. She's brought back stage and is told to wait outside Garth's dressing room with black clad security guy. Now nerves really do set in. The excitement! The tension! The person she adored more than any other was the other side of a door.

Finally they're just ready to bring her in when the security guy sniffs the air. He wrinkles his nose. Garthlover goes crimson and looks at her shoes. Now there's an even stronger smell and Garthlover spins away from the security guy, away from the door and runs (waddles) away.
Yes. She had well and truly shat herself. Bizarrely she felt compelled to share this information with her school pals on the Monday morning. I just wish she’s held her nerve and subjected Brooks to the type of steaming shit that he subjected upon us for too long.
(Fri 17th Apr 2009, 14:37, More)

» Abusing freebies

Viewing Tower Piss Up
Not me but my brother in law back in his crusty student days. Mate of his worked in Dublin Airport and coming up to Xmas managed to get Brother in Law and a few others into a free booze piss up being held in one of the flight control towers. All were warned to keep a low profile so as not be noticed (staff only gig of course). There were just enough people there so that this was quite manageable. The night progressed. People got very merry on free lager, wine and song.....
That is until one of the impostors excitedly jumped to his feet and started pointing out the tower window "Look!! Look!! A plane!!"
Rumbled. They got their coats and tried to explain to their dim witted pal that the sight of a jet coming into land wasn't exactly a novelty for Dublin Airport employees.
(Fri 9th Nov 2007, 12:20, More)

» Crazy Relatives

My Uncle's wife....
Has been dead for some time now. However in her time on this earth she provided us with much mirth. Highlights included:
*Formally complaining to broadcasting standards commission about babies' bottoms appearing in ads for nappies.
*Asking another relative (who was quite handy) if he could make her a stair lift. She was in no way impaired just lazy and thought a stair lift would be great in their run down farm house. He didn't make it for her.
*Chronic hypochondriac.
*She had asthma but was too crazy to use an inhaler properly so her doctor made her use one of those tubes small kids with asthma use before they move onto inhalers.
*Would randomly wear a white bandage on her head for no particular reason. I think she may have believed it cured headaches.

Funnily enough of all the things she claimed to be diagnosed with “being barking mad” wasn’t on of them. Having said that she died younger than she should’ve so I guess she showed us!
(Fri 6th Jul 2007, 13:39, More)
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