b3ta.com user Dark Matter
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OK time to stick some kind of profile on here, so where to start.

Male: the wrong side of 45 and married (happier for it) with a single bairn to show for all my efforts to date........

I'll not be putting a pic onto the page as I was no looker as a boy and old age is not helping anything.....

I've had to get by in this world through wit and guile so you just know progress has been slow......

Been working for the Big Blue team for 20 odd years now and am still sh1te at anything that has the word "paint" in it, however if nothing else I'll have a decent pension come my senior years.

Founder member of The Whiskey Monsters and still regularly sit and fester in work on a Friday morning... (which I believe is how I discovered The B3ta).

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Best answers to questions:

» Dumb things you've done

Not Big. Not Clever
One sunny spring day a few year's ago I decided to burn lots of garden rubbish.

After making a nice big bonfire at the back of the garden I try to get it to light.

However I had a little bit of a problem getting it started, it was damp! So I decide to get a little help from a 1/2 gallon container of white spirit.

Result: whoosh, and we have it all burning nicely, if not a little smokily.

I put the top back onto the plastic container and for the next two hours I grab and burn anything not tied down or living.

Eventually however all good things come to an end and I find myself with practically nowt else left to burn.

Casting my eye round I eventually settled on the empty???? 1/2 gallon white spirit container, "it's plastic" thinks I, "it will burn".

So without another thought I duly drop the 4 pint pot into the glowing embers.........

First thing it does is blow up like sodding space hopper.

Clearly I did a god job when I screwed the cap back on thinks I, however I realise that all the compressed "and" flammable gas stuck inside the container is trying desperately to get out, and not in a good way. .

So I step up to the fire and swat it out of the embers, thinking result, no mini Hiroshima's here, don't want to annoy the nuns again (another fire another day).......

I then think how do I get all that gas out of there? At this point I looks at left hand and see the broken broom handle I've been using as a poker for most of the afternoon.

"That's do the trick", so I and promptly spear my baby space hopper, (even the hamster is starting to slow down at his wheel around about now)..

At this point that my brain clearly went into stand-by (the hamster must have seen what was coming and was no doubt trying to kiss it's arse goodbye) because instead of simply walking away I turned and put the "now" punctured container back into the fire.

There is the biggest fcuking bang I have ever heard in my life.

When I eventually open my eyes I see not only is the fire out but it's actually no longer there along with all the hairs on my left arm up to around elbow level, (use bigger stick next time).

Mrs Matter then got to spend about 30 mins picking little melted bits of plastic from my face, arm and hair...........

She wont let me play with matches anymore.
(Thu 20th Dec 2007, 15:21, More)

» Guilty Secrets

Guilty? Eh no......
Back in the mid 90's when I was between wives (yes married twice so I am officially an optimist, I have the papers to prove it), I was doing what all newly separated blokes do, i.e, getting pissed lots and shagging anything that would let me........ (well almost).....

On this particular night me and my pal Al, got lucky and bagged a willing pair who we shall call Jac and Gill cause that is what they called each other.

After lots of drink fuelled dancing we made our way back to Jac(ie's) flat where we had to sneak past Gill's flat as she stayed downstairs from Jac(ie's).

Why? Because Gill's bf was watching her kid and he would have frowned upon my plans for his lady that night, (Complicated? a little. Dangerous, oh aye. Fun? f'n magic......).

Well once safely ensconced in Jac(ie's), myself and Gill got straight into it, as time was short for her in that bf down stairs would be wondering where she was.

Having the drink fuelled stamina of the gods at the time I put in a fine performance and Gill showed her appreciation in the what I can only call a vocal manner, (and no she wasn't snoring)....

Noisy? Until that point I'd clearly led a sheltered life........

However in the midst of our shenanigans bf comes up from down stairs and I am told to hide as it's not me who would get spanked for being naughty. (3 stories up so the window is not an option).

So under the bed I hide, after getting Gill's phone number and agreeing that we need to do more of the same........ she was good. (I surprised myself, hurrah for beer)...

Gill and bf leave after what i believe was a short chat with Al and Jac(ie), it seems that bf grinned at Al on the way out of the door......

Once they have left I start getting my kit back on when Al walk's in and states that he's off as he's been striking out.

So mere minutes after Gill has gone Al has left as well, (you can see where this is going? Good cause at this point I didn't have a clue).........

Well I'm pretty well dressed at this point when Jac(ie) comes strolling in and drops to her knees in front of me muttering something along the lines of "after that noise lets see what ur packing then"

So yes I did, with Jac(ie) minutes after her best pal had been good to me, but that's not the end, oh no.....

For about six months thereafter I would go visit young Gill in Jac(ie's) house at least once a week, and Jac(ie) would always "fluff" me up for second's after Gill had returned downstairs.........

Gill never knew.

Do I feel guilty...... Like f.............

Never managed a threesome mind,........ But hey ho........

After six month's of they two I needed a new one, so length was minimum.
(Fri 31st Aug 2007, 18:47, More)

» My most gullible moment

The One That Got Away.......
OK so it wasnt me I was there.......

It's great having kids especially when they hang on your every word and believe all that you say, even when it's clearly bollocks.

The daughter is one such child and every now and then (don't take the piss to often, it makes them suspicious) I've had a day or two of fun.

One such occasion happened when me, the missus and the bairn were at a place called Portavadie (just outside Tighnabruaich) for the day.

In the hills above said place is an old abandoned settlement.

After doing the Grand Old Duke Of York thing we were duly marching back down again when on a whim I says to little Miss DM, "Look there's a Haggis".........

She spins around just in time for me to further advise her that the timorous little beastie has shot of into some long heather and is hiding.....

Now being around 9 at the time and still eager to learn she was full of questions such as, "What's a haggis"? "Where do they live"? "What do they eat"? etc.

Well after much explaining I told her what we could do is try and catch one so she could see what they look like and then let it go again.

I had to explain that as they are so timorous and shy it takes the local haggis farmers a full year to catch enough to sell and that's why they have a special celebration for them on Burns Night.

Anything we caught would have to be freed. (there is no captive breeding programme) and anyway we didn't have a "haggis hunting licence".

"How can we catch them when they are so shy" quips said child, clearly think "yea right dad you have no chance of outrunning anything furry".......

So I go on to further explain that there are in fact two distinct breeds of haggi, lefties and righties....

The difference being that lefties have the short legs of the left hand side of their body and can only run around hills in an anticlockwise direction.

Righties on the other hand have the two short legs on the right hand side of their bodies and can only run in a clockwise direction.

All we had to do was pick a direction and run in that direction waving and shouting as we go and any haggi coming towards us would take fright and try and run back from whence they came.

As they would now be running in the wrong direction for their breed (i.e. their short legs would now be on the downhill side) they would role down the hill and we could catch them at the bottom (because this is after all how the haggis farmers round them up).


So after an eager look of we shoots with much waving of arms and shouting (interspersed with me laughing my lungs out) in search of the fabled beastie.

Back and forth we shoots until we eventually hear something scuttle through the heater, (probably a rabbit)...

At this point I shouts to the bairn, "That's us, straight down hill and we will get it at the bottom".

Well once at the bottom we continue to run about a bit through heather, bracken and gorse before I finally succumb to my age and tell the daughter to go look herself as I'm clearly to big and noisy to be jumping about.

I then got to spend a good 30 minutes sitting enjoying the sun with the missus before we call the chase off and head back home.....

Happy memories and all.

Until just before the following Burns Night when I find Little Miss DM is clearly sad and unhappy.

"What's up"? says I.

"It's the haggis", says Little Miss DM, "I'm just sad at the thought of them getting eaten".

I let the missus put her right as I didn't know whether to laugh or cry......

She still scowls at me over that one.............
(Fri 22nd Aug 2008, 13:03, More)

» The nicest thing someone's ever done for me

To The Mrs
This has to go to the Mrs for putting up with me.

I was in and out of foster care as a sprog and as such have what can best be described as "attachment issues".

I learnt at a young age that the only constant thing in my life at that time was me and as such pretty well did what I needed to do to get by on my own.

One ex wife and a shed load of failed relationships later I started to date the Mrs.

Well we'd been together a few years and were bumbling along as we do when out of the blue she informed me that I was about to be a dad.

Let's just say I was not best pleased, I was terrified.

How could "I" know how to bring up a kid, I'd had a shit time myself as a sprog, would history repeat itself?

There would be none of this "my world" any more I'd have responsibilities, somebody to have to "really" care for, look after.

How the fcuk would I do that?

How do you do that??????

It wasn't my place to tell her to get rid of it but she knew how I felt, dark silent moods, I didn't do the antenatal classes, I had the snip "before" the bairn was born to make sure there would be no more "mistakes", hell I was even at home in bed "when" the bairn was born.............

Really, really not nice..........

But when I first set eye's on my daughter my life changed.

So this is for the wife for putting up with me and living through nine months of hell because of me when they should have been some of the best days of her life.

This is for the wife for teaching me what patience and love and respect is, for allowing me to stay in her life and live in a family that's there.

This is for the wife who could see past the distant stares, who could see past the feigned indifference

This is to the Mrs for giving me a life that I never knew could be so good...... for giving me the best twelve years of my life so far.

(Tue 7th Oct 2008, 18:03, More)

» I witnessed a crime

It (Probably) Should have been me......
Oh so many years ago when Mrs Matter and I were just staring orf on the courting thing I'd had her around at my place for the first time ever to have my wicked way with her.

At the time I lived in a big detached place with big shared gardens and a cellar. Whilst we were building up for round two my dog at the time decides to come a wandering into the bedroom and starts growing like fcuk as she did when strangers were about. I advised the future Mrs Matter that all would be fine as the dog was doing what it was paid to do and that it had probably just been a neighbour walking by.

However after 5 mins of this even I'm getting distracted from the task in hand. Then suddenly there is a large crashing sound from the cellars down below. So being really pissed off from having to get off mid shag I duly pull on some trackies, trainers and a top and head for the door. Now being a chap on modest build I thinks to myself "stuff being a hero and promptly grab a 1/2 inch cold chisel and a torch from my tool box on the way out of the door and off down the stairs I shoot chisel and torch in hand.

At the stairs leading into the cellars the torch goes on and I can see a pair of feet at the back of the cellars trying to pretend they are part of the rear wall, "right cnut, get your arse out here now" cries I, and shit that's what the feet start to do. So as the "clumsy one" walks towards me I start doing a hands face hands face thing with the torch. Check hands for weapons, blind the fu*ker with the torch....... Straight away I twig he has nowt in his hands so being a good sort I look at the chisel and think "if I hit him with this "I'll" get nicked" and promptly shove said chisel into my back pocket.

When the "Clumsy One" was fully out in the open I tell him to stop, but "oh no" he keeps on walking towards me, no mad rush or last minute charge, just the slow inevitable walk that brings him into arms reach.

"If I can reach him, he can reach me", thinks I, so at this point I launch what I can only describe as first assault and promptly proceed to rattle him repeatedly in the face with my torch.

Whilst all this had been going on the future Mrs M had had the presence of mind to call the local plods explaining that I was in the process of detaining a burglar, (good girl). So after doing this she comes to the window and looks out only to see the beam from the torch darting about like a mad light sabre as I promptly beat my potential assailant into an early submission. At this point off she runs and now informs the local plods that things have turned fugly and that a dual is taking place outside and that she is alone and afraid..........

Outside I had gained the upper hand and our "burglar" was sitting on the ground in a contrite manner, bleeding amongst other things, when suddenly a blue light came burling into my drive and two of the locals plods finest came running up the garden (it was I believe a quiet night in the old home town).

As they approached the quickly twigged that I was the householder i.e. I didn't try and run off.

So as the grabbed chummy I stepped back onto my chisel which had fallen out during our scuffle, "shit" thinks if they find that I'm stuffed so for the next two or three minutes I describe who had done what and who had been where whilst pivoting around doing my best not to take my foot of the chisel.

After this rather mad dance of mine the local plods fortunately decided to get "chummy" (yes they did call him that) up onto my drive.

Much questioning ensued where it was clear that my bleeding friend was much pissed at what I had done to him but rather than lie down and play injured (and he wouldn't have to have done much considering the black eye and the blood on his face) he took it out on the plods calling them many nasty names and questioning their parentage etc etc.

You can see that this worked to my advantage.

Well eventually we managed to get him to tell us who he was and where he lived which was 25 XXX st. "Stop", says I "that's the garden flats under the front of my house. A young lad had moved in approx 4 months previously and nobody had either met or seen the gent involved," says I. "If your who you say you are, who's your neighbour," thinking it may have been a drunk friend pushing his luck.

His reply was along the lines of "fcuk off cnut".....

Well at this point the local bobbies try to get some id and chummy starts to struggle. So I can only imagine that rather than twat about the plods though "get him down on the deck it will be easier"....

This was not a pretty action however as his hands were safely fastened behind his back by this time, however as I had a gravel drive it did take care of the problem of me having to explain about cuts etc for which I would have struggled to justify, (I was unmarked).

Out comes a wallet and then a bus pass. "Lets see your torch" says one of the plods. He takes the torch and duly examines chummy and the bus pass.

"Can I have a word sir" he says to me, so I step aside to talk. "Just to let you know that you have just kicked fcuk out of your next door neighbour. What do you want us to do now"?

After the OOK moment I thought to myself, well fcuk it he shouldn't have been there so plods were instructed to cart him orf and charge him, which they did allowing me to get back to the hot new gf.

When we later met and I asked what the hell he had been doing etc rather than just saying at the time he just shrugged and wanderd off.

I still dont know what he was up to till this day.

Length 240hrs Community Service for Breach, Breaking and Entering and Placing a Person in a State Of Fear For Their Safety (that one is down to the Mrs).
(Thu 14th Feb 2008, 13:44, More)
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