» Guilty Secrets

Another one...
Really sorry, qotw is better than a shrink...


Young age (9 / 10 / 11)...

used to hang around my local primary school at nights (it was near my house, had a convenient mini-nelsons-column thingie.

Anyway, the primary school used to employ a welsh cleaning lady (Mrs Duff if you wanna know...). One night she gets in her car (about 20 feet from where we're all hanging around). Little did she know - she had 2 banana's up her exhaust. Cue: Us sniggering violently (snot bubbles, chest spasms, etc.).

The car starts fine. She drives off.

What? What just happened? I put banana's up the exhaust!

100 yards down the road, she starts to veer off -course. Heading towards the kerb / a house. The car gently bumps the kerb and is at an angle (opposite side of the road mind!)...No more movement.

All of my friends turn to stare at me. "Murderer."

The pointing starts. "Murderer."

Oh. My. Fucking. Jesus. "Murderer."

I ran. Like there was no tomorrow. I was a fucking "Murderer."

So, absolutely aghast at what I'd done, I end up in the local cemetary (not too far away), sitting on a bench staring at the ground.
My world had effectively been destroyed. I was going to Children's Panel. I was going to juvenile detention. Possibly for life. For a joke.

My friend found me a short while later, laughing his fucking head off when he saw me.

How could he be so cruel!? How?!

Mrs Duff had gotten out of the car, slammed the door, swearing in welsh. Her husband drove up - and removed the banana's from the exhaust. He then laughed and waved at my mates. He drove off, so did Mrs Duff.

I still get called "Murderer" whenever someone remembers this story.
(Sun 2nd Sep 2007, 16:41, More)

» Guilty Secrets

Toilet nuke.
Last one (for now) I promise...

Few years ago went to Ireland to visit the, now ex, girlfriend's Mum and family.

We were staying at her Mum's, she had one of this crappy new style houses (all small and cream carpets).

Anyways, after a day of drinking anything and everything (Ireland, remember?), needed a dump, realised it was gonna be a Notorious so made the excuse of wanting a shower (the shower was part of the en suite to girlfriends mums bedroom).

Turn shower on, sit down and wait to be pleasantly relieved. No. My arse went Hiroshima on me. Literally, could feel the burn.

Eventually, gravity reasserts itself and I'm off the ceiling. Almost. The toilet has my poop. All of it. It's easily past the halfway mark to the rim.

what. the. fuck. do . I do.

I can't flush - it'll instantly overflow.

Images of girlfriend and her mother looking at me with expressions of sheer awe then being replaced by physical revulsion and pity flash through my mind. No. No that cannot happen.

I grab the toilet brush. I start pushing. Was nearly sick (you ever seen a prickly globe of shit on a stick?!). This was not working.

I grab the shower head, turn the head till I have a power-stream and attack the toilet. It starts going away! I'm ELATED.

Then I realise - the water is hot. The most awful reek you have ever smelled starts to emit (cold water, cold water, cold water!).

Eventually all is gone, I have my shower. I was so happy!

Leave the light on in the bathroom (so the extractor fan keeps going), spray a lot of deoderant and aftershave all around the place, leave the door open, open bedroom window - close bedroom door.

Life continues.

Next day, girlfriend's mum looks a little embaressed when we come downstairs for brekkie. She's had to call the plumber - she's blocked the toilet in her bathroom.

Silly besom.
(Sat 1st Sep 2007, 12:57, More)

» Guilty Secrets

Umm...
OK, so being brought up in the country you can get up to all kinds of jive...

Aged around 9, big squad of us (me the youngest up to about 13), realised that construction workers always used to leave their keys hidden someplace obvious on tractors, steam rollers, etc. (Usually behind the front left wheel sitting on the axle or something).

Big ole shed with a metal sheet roof and a wall running to its side.

It's my turn on the steamroller. I'm 9 years old remember. I can't control it, it starts scraping along the wall, heading towards the shed. Sparks are flying everywhere from the steamroller as it scrapes the wall (looked fantastic). I bailed out before it hit the shed.

The whole thing shook - and then a metal sheet/girder thingie starts sliding down the roof (this thing is easily 30ft long) - passes over my mates head (who is oblivious to this thing moving overhead) - and strikes the ground 2ft away from him. He now has a bridge over his head to the roof. I think I he might have laid an egg.

I nearly did a final destination on my mates head. :-(

Length? 30ft.
(Sat 1st Sep 2007, 12:37, More)

» Sleepwalking

Not me, a friend...
When I was about 10/11 I had my best friend staying over one night.

Anyway, 4am he shakes me awake. "They're coming. We have to go!"

"What?"

"They're coming! C'mon!"

Groggily "Ok, just wait for me on the window sill" (upside down house, bedrooms on the groundfloor).

2 mins later - I awake fully. My friend is gone. The window is wide open - and he's not waiting for me.

Stunned, I walk to my parents room "Erm, mum, dad...Sean's kindof...jumped out the window."

"What?"

"Yeah, he woke me up and legged it."

"We'll phone his parents."

So, he was pretty much my neighbour, and we lived right next to our local primary school.

In barefeet he hopped the 5ft wall, legged it down the grass pitch thinking dobermann's were chasing him - then proceeded to climb the 10ft fence at the bottom. Still in barefeet mind. Hit his head on a branch upon landing on the other side - then slowly awakened. To find himself in bushes, in the dark, almost naked - and no idea what the fuck had just happened.

He heard his oldman cough from a distance and started screaming blue murder.

Needless to say he didn't spend the rest of the night at my house.


Length? It was 10 foot!
(Thu 23rd Aug 2007, 8:00, More)

» Being told off as an adult

23rd bday.
Ok, so this may be _slightly_ off-topic. It made me feel like a child anyways...

So, it was my last birthday (23rd if you wanna know). I'm living in Edinburgh, folks live in Dundee. I have 2 older sisters and they're very much the whole "mememememememe" thing at their birthdays and want everyone to be there, big deals, etc. I'm a bit quieter.

So, my birthday was on the Friday, I get pissed with my mates and whatnot, but I decided to go out for a meal on the Saturday with just my parents in Dundee.

My parents are publicans, and therefore, I, like them, enjoy alcohol.

Also, I smoke quite heavily, neither of my parents ever have. And they hate it. I also refuse to smoke in front of my parents - it's just something I don't do. To the point of hiding it like a teenager, stubbing it out, throwing it away, shrugging it up my sleeve, passing it to someone else.

We went out, visited a few pubs, had a bit of banter, then headed to the restuartant. It's one I'd never been to before (Turkish / Anatolian) - which is unusal for Dundee, not exactly teeming with things to do.

We're having our meal, it's about halfway through the maincourse and we've been drinking copious amounts of wine - which goes straight to my head on an empty stomach.

There's a big thing in my family about how all of my childhood friends got into drugs (read: heroin) - so they're excessively worried that I still might slip into that loop somehow.

Anyways, I get up, make some lame excuse about needing to make a call, slip out the restaurant and spark up a cigarette. I smoke it quickly (double-drawing/dragging, squeezing the filter sorta thing). Am done within less than 2 mins (kinda like Sharon Stone - but I'm a dude).

Start to walk back into the restaurant. Oh god no. Head-bender. I smoked it too quickly and now have oxygen depravation / nicotine overdose. Usually passes within a second or two. No. Alcohol is keeping me disorientated. Fuck.

So what do I do? I bounce off all the walls, tables, patrons and waiters back to the table. I sit down, let out a sigh and stare at my feet (trying to get rid of the head-bender by focusing on something).

My parents looked at each other solemnly. My Dad then says to me "Are you on drugs?"

Glancing away from my feet at him i say "what? Don't be daft."

"The way you were staggering over here it looks otherwise. Do you know what drugs do to you?"

"Are you kidding me?"

"I know a lot of your friends do it..."

I'm still not getting rid of the head-bender at this point, so I started trying to focus on him. Owlishly.

I get the whole "we understand, we'd like to help" speech for 15 mins in a packed restaurant on a Saturday night.

It wasn't until the next day I told my Sister - who then explained what happens when someone is pissed and smokes a cig too quickly - that they understood. Felt like such a schmuck.
(Thu 20th Sep 2007, 20:00, More)