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- a member for 17 years, 6 months and 21 days
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» Pathological Liars
Oh no Doctor
No more than two maybe three a day. Yes I am trying to cut down. Yes I really want to stop. No I hadn't thought about that before. Yes of course I'll try to quit. Really this time. Units per week? Oh, not many. I'm not really a big drinker, maybe the odd pint here and there, not regularly though.
(Thu 29th Nov 2007, 21:52, More)
Oh no Doctor
No more than two maybe three a day. Yes I am trying to cut down. Yes I really want to stop. No I hadn't thought about that before. Yes of course I'll try to quit. Really this time. Units per week? Oh, not many. I'm not really a big drinker, maybe the odd pint here and there, not regularly though.
(Thu 29th Nov 2007, 21:52, More)
» DIY disasters
Two minutes too late.
When I returned home from college a number of years ago I was greeted with a piece of wood laying outside the house, a trail of broken glass leading up to the front door and a very confused looking welshman with a bleeding nose sitting on the top of the stairs. Apparently, my dads work on the loft hadn't been a total success.
The kit he'd bought from homebase promised unparalleled ladder climbing luxury. Upon opening the hatch the ladder was supposed to descend from the heavens, gently touching down on the carpet. It all sounded faintly futuristic, like something you'd hope to find in a Barratts home.
In my dads overenthusiastic race to test this mechanism he had installed it somewhat cack-handedly. At the first try at using it the hatch got stuck and in his attempt to release the mechanism my dad had wrenched the panel off of the ceiling, dropped it down the stairs and then looked up as the ladder hit him full in the face with one of its rubber legs. If I had arrived only a couple of minutes earlier I could have witnessed this first hand.
(Sun 6th Apr 2008, 17:25, More)
Two minutes too late.
When I returned home from college a number of years ago I was greeted with a piece of wood laying outside the house, a trail of broken glass leading up to the front door and a very confused looking welshman with a bleeding nose sitting on the top of the stairs. Apparently, my dads work on the loft hadn't been a total success.
The kit he'd bought from homebase promised unparalleled ladder climbing luxury. Upon opening the hatch the ladder was supposed to descend from the heavens, gently touching down on the carpet. It all sounded faintly futuristic, like something you'd hope to find in a Barratts home.
In my dads overenthusiastic race to test this mechanism he had installed it somewhat cack-handedly. At the first try at using it the hatch got stuck and in his attempt to release the mechanism my dad had wrenched the panel off of the ceiling, dropped it down the stairs and then looked up as the ladder hit him full in the face with one of its rubber legs. If I had arrived only a couple of minutes earlier I could have witnessed this first hand.
(Sun 6th Apr 2008, 17:25, More)