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- a member for 16 years, 10 months and 21 days
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» Stuff I've found
A large Albanian flag
neatly folded indside a carrier bag outside a pub in Manchester. Botched coup attempt? Who knows? Who cares, it's now on my wall.
Hoverkrafti im është plot me ngjala
(Fri 7th Nov 2008, 13:53, More)
A large Albanian flag
neatly folded indside a carrier bag outside a pub in Manchester. Botched coup attempt? Who knows? Who cares, it's now on my wall.
Hoverkrafti im është plot me ngjala
(Fri 7th Nov 2008, 13:53, More)
» Eccentrics
Ice breaker
in the first year of college; the tutor hands out little whiteboards and aks us to write one word that best describes us. We go around the room, show our conceited self-reviews, get to one lad who shows his board - 'Bone Idle', which gets a few laughs. "Ah" the tutor says, "I asked for one word". Fella looks down at his board for a few seconds and wipes one word off. With a big grin he shows us the edit - 'Bone' then starts laughing hysterically. Total froot loop.
(Wed 5th Nov 2008, 16:20, More)
Ice breaker
in the first year of college; the tutor hands out little whiteboards and aks us to write one word that best describes us. We go around the room, show our conceited self-reviews, get to one lad who shows his board - 'Bone Idle', which gets a few laughs. "Ah" the tutor says, "I asked for one word". Fella looks down at his board for a few seconds and wipes one word off. With a big grin he shows us the edit - 'Bone' then starts laughing hysterically. Total froot loop.
(Wed 5th Nov 2008, 16:20, More)
» Common
"What did you have for lunch?" "A meta pastiche, from Greggs"
All this talk of poshness and commonness has reminded me of a story my Granddad once told me.
You see, his father was a vaudeville promoter in 20s America and remembers one act in particular, a family act, the bread and butter of a promoter’s troupe back in the day. The father of the family makes the introductions
“British huh? I like that, you got ten minutes” cracks my Great Granddad.
The family pull off boiler suits to reveal their costumes; white Kappa tracksuits, stained with ketchup, grease and cooking oil. The father throws himself into a DFS easy chair, his tracksuit top pulling back to reveal a hairy beer-gut. He opens a can of warm Stella and a bag of crisps then turns on the television. The TV blares while the man spits obscenities and Dorito fragments at the screen, pausing from time to time in order to fart loudly, breathing in his own aroma.
Meanwhile the daughter and mother share a WKD while waiting for the teatime Pot Noodles to cook, “4 for a pahnd from Asdas, innit?” the elder female correctly asserts. The second television screen in the room is tuned to QVC, the mother phones the network to order false nails while her illiterate youngling looks at the pictures in Heat.
The youngest member of the family has relieved himself of his tracksuit and is covered in nothing but grime and cigarette burns. The nude boy tears around the staged lounge, high on Panda Pops, he knocks over his father’s can of lager. Incensed, the pater familias lunges at his son, screaming out “Get ere now Logan, I’m gonna fookin stripe yoh!”.
The scene ends, my Great Granddad is speechless for several seconds, he speaks;
“So, whaddya call this crazy act then?
The father waddles forward;
“The Aristocrats” he jangles
Bada ba chada cha
(Sat 18th Oct 2008, 4:02, More)
"What did you have for lunch?" "A meta pastiche, from Greggs"
All this talk of poshness and commonness has reminded me of a story my Granddad once told me.
You see, his father was a vaudeville promoter in 20s America and remembers one act in particular, a family act, the bread and butter of a promoter’s troupe back in the day. The father of the family makes the introductions
“British huh? I like that, you got ten minutes” cracks my Great Granddad.
The family pull off boiler suits to reveal their costumes; white Kappa tracksuits, stained with ketchup, grease and cooking oil. The father throws himself into a DFS easy chair, his tracksuit top pulling back to reveal a hairy beer-gut. He opens a can of warm Stella and a bag of crisps then turns on the television. The TV blares while the man spits obscenities and Dorito fragments at the screen, pausing from time to time in order to fart loudly, breathing in his own aroma.
Meanwhile the daughter and mother share a WKD while waiting for the teatime Pot Noodles to cook, “4 for a pahnd from Asdas, innit?” the elder female correctly asserts. The second television screen in the room is tuned to QVC, the mother phones the network to order false nails while her illiterate youngling looks at the pictures in Heat.
The youngest member of the family has relieved himself of his tracksuit and is covered in nothing but grime and cigarette burns. The nude boy tears around the staged lounge, high on Panda Pops, he knocks over his father’s can of lager. Incensed, the pater familias lunges at his son, screaming out “Get ere now Logan, I’m gonna fookin stripe yoh!”.
The scene ends, my Great Granddad is speechless for several seconds, he speaks;
“So, whaddya call this crazy act then?
The father waddles forward;
“The Aristocrats” he jangles
Bada ba chada cha
(Sat 18th Oct 2008, 4:02, More)
» Family codes and rituals
My sister and I
have text battles where we send each rude predictive texts "dual off you ducking aunt" etc.
When we were younger we would elbow each other in the car to the tune of Camping Next to Water by Badly Drawn Boy.
(Sun 23rd Nov 2008, 14:54, More)
My sister and I
have text battles where we send each rude predictive texts "dual off you ducking aunt" etc.
When we were younger we would elbow each other in the car to the tune of Camping Next to Water by Badly Drawn Boy.
(Sun 23rd Nov 2008, 14:54, More)
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