Profile for TheRiddler:
I have become one with the infinite consciousness.
These are my babies! Meggie and Rhona. I love them to bits, and couldn't imagine life without them.
And very very occasionally I will post something mildy amusing.
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I have become one with the infinite consciousness.
These are my babies! Meggie and Rhona. I love them to bits, and couldn't imagine life without them.
And very very occasionally I will post something mildy amusing.
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
» Pubs
The Stripper and the Retard
I was out seeing a good friend of mine, about an hours drive away, and it wasn't long before we were laughing and reminiscing about the good old days.
He suggested we visited a pub nearby called "The Prince of Wales", not only for their beer, but for their entertainment too ! I had a thirst on, so agreed, not knowing what the entertainment was, I was content that I was in the company of an old friend, and thats all that mattered.
The pub was a bit of a dive to say the least, pretty dark and dingy, the pool table had seen much better days, but the place was rammed - mostly with old men, or men you are likely to meet hiding in a bush. But the beer was good, so we managed to grab a table and waited for the "entertainment".
It wasn't long before music started and a beautiful buxom blonde came out, wearing a stars and stripes bikini.
It wasn't long before she was out of it too..
Jiggling about and dipping her breasts in punters pints, this girl was really going for it ! Then she climbed onto the pool table and started knocking balls into the pockets with her tits.. She really knew how to put on a good show, and it appeared she was more than a little comfortable with the dirty old men having a good grope!
She made her way to the bar, where there stood an old man, and what was quite obviously his retarded son.
Now I don't know if it was pity, or quite what she was thinking - maybe she thought, there was never going to be a chance of the lad ever having a relationship..knowing the feel or smell of a real woman..
She dipped two fingers inside her and said "Here you are.. What do you think of this"? as she shoved her wet fingers under the retards nose.
His reply, couldn't be scripted..and had the whole pub doubled over..
"SMELLS LIKE MY SISTER" he shouted.
I laughed so hard, I wee'd a little.
(Fri 6th Feb 2009, 11:31, More)
The Stripper and the Retard
I was out seeing a good friend of mine, about an hours drive away, and it wasn't long before we were laughing and reminiscing about the good old days.
He suggested we visited a pub nearby called "The Prince of Wales", not only for their beer, but for their entertainment too ! I had a thirst on, so agreed, not knowing what the entertainment was, I was content that I was in the company of an old friend, and thats all that mattered.
The pub was a bit of a dive to say the least, pretty dark and dingy, the pool table had seen much better days, but the place was rammed - mostly with old men, or men you are likely to meet hiding in a bush. But the beer was good, so we managed to grab a table and waited for the "entertainment".
It wasn't long before music started and a beautiful buxom blonde came out, wearing a stars and stripes bikini.
It wasn't long before she was out of it too..
Jiggling about and dipping her breasts in punters pints, this girl was really going for it ! Then she climbed onto the pool table and started knocking balls into the pockets with her tits.. She really knew how to put on a good show, and it appeared she was more than a little comfortable with the dirty old men having a good grope!
She made her way to the bar, where there stood an old man, and what was quite obviously his retarded son.
Now I don't know if it was pity, or quite what she was thinking - maybe she thought, there was never going to be a chance of the lad ever having a relationship..knowing the feel or smell of a real woman..
She dipped two fingers inside her and said "Here you are.. What do you think of this"? as she shoved her wet fingers under the retards nose.
His reply, couldn't be scripted..and had the whole pub doubled over..
"SMELLS LIKE MY SISTER" he shouted.
I laughed so hard, I wee'd a little.
(Fri 6th Feb 2009, 11:31, More)
» The nicest thing someone's ever done for me
Not so much done..than said..
We were doing a Christmas Party Gig for a company that had booked the band before, that bizarrely started with the MD, who had a terribly bad stutter, trying to give a speech before we played. It took him about 10 minutes just to say a few sentences, bless him.
Even more bizarre was the fact that nobody was in the festive mood whatsoever, and refused to dance all night.. except for this one old guy, that got up and started doing his thing on the dancefloor ! This'll get everybody up I thought to myself, just as the old fella keeled over and had to be carried away in an ambulance.
Finally with a few songs left, a small lady in her 40's got up and started dancing in a very strange, almost child-like manor. (I found out after, that she was a special needs).
But despite the ballet movements combined with jumps and spins, I was relieved that somebody, at least, was having a good time. (It was particularly odd that nobody had got up to dance, as we gig regularly and use the same cheesy songs that never fail to pack the dancefloor..and it left us, as performers, rather deflated).
It came to the end of the set, and over the mic, I wished everybody a very merry Christmas, and may their God go with them..well it was the season of goodwill and all that, and even if there was more life at the local cemetary, it felt like the right thing to say..and I meant it.
I got off the stage, unimpressed with the idea of packing down, when somebody came up to me. It was the ballerina lady, and she was having trouble saying what she wanted to say.. She gently held my hand, and said
"...and a ...very... Merry... Christmas...to you too"
Even now, it brings a tear to my eye. Out of a room full of misery, and self importance.. She felt the need to say those simple words.
And it meant more than any riches, and always will.
(Thu 2nd Oct 2008, 16:57, More)
Not so much done..than said..
We were doing a Christmas Party Gig for a company that had booked the band before, that bizarrely started with the MD, who had a terribly bad stutter, trying to give a speech before we played. It took him about 10 minutes just to say a few sentences, bless him.
Even more bizarre was the fact that nobody was in the festive mood whatsoever, and refused to dance all night.. except for this one old guy, that got up and started doing his thing on the dancefloor ! This'll get everybody up I thought to myself, just as the old fella keeled over and had to be carried away in an ambulance.
Finally with a few songs left, a small lady in her 40's got up and started dancing in a very strange, almost child-like manor. (I found out after, that she was a special needs).
But despite the ballet movements combined with jumps and spins, I was relieved that somebody, at least, was having a good time. (It was particularly odd that nobody had got up to dance, as we gig regularly and use the same cheesy songs that never fail to pack the dancefloor..and it left us, as performers, rather deflated).
It came to the end of the set, and over the mic, I wished everybody a very merry Christmas, and may their God go with them..well it was the season of goodwill and all that, and even if there was more life at the local cemetary, it felt like the right thing to say..and I meant it.
I got off the stage, unimpressed with the idea of packing down, when somebody came up to me. It was the ballerina lady, and she was having trouble saying what she wanted to say.. She gently held my hand, and said
"...and a ...very... Merry... Christmas...to you too"
Even now, it brings a tear to my eye. Out of a room full of misery, and self importance.. She felt the need to say those simple words.
And it meant more than any riches, and always will.
(Thu 2nd Oct 2008, 16:57, More)
» Will you go out with me?
My chat up line was.. "Lydia...Thats a beautiful name". *way to go dickhead, you could have said anything..and you fucked it up with that* slaps forehead.
I've been singing in a band for over 10 years now, and we had a gig in the beer garden of our local pub - a fund raiser for charridy.. so we decided to forgo our usual fee in exchange for copious amounts of beer!
The place was so packed, there wasn't even standing room left, and despite all being shitfaced, we played a storming set and had everyone dancing and cheering for More!
Bizarrely, I decided to tell the audience over the mic that I was single..which got a laugh, but strangely it worked, and lots of girls came up after asking to "buy a cd" oh and drop in the fact that they were single too !
But none of them really did it for me, until this one gorgeous brunette came up to me for a cd.. I was speechless.. and kind of just stared into her beautiful green eyes with my mouth slightly open.
She had 'the' most beautiful smile I had ever seen, and I swear I could feel myself blushing! No, that was just the alcohol I told myself..
She wanted a CD, so I gave her one and asked "What's your name"?
"Lydia" she replied.
*say something..anything, quickly before she walks away*!!!
"That's a beautiful name" I said.
(SPANG SPANG SPANG FUCKING SPANG, WHAT A FUCKING RETARD!! YOU COULD HAVE SAID ANYTHING..BUT NO..WELL YOU CAN KISS THAT ONE GOODBYE..FUCKING IDIOT).
She smiled and said thank you and sat back down with her sister.
After I had repeatedly flushed my head down the toilet with shame, I decided to talk to her again..We sat chatting for ages..and then when she told me she was single too, I stood up with both fists in the air and shouted "YES" !
..then realised..that wasn't in my head.
She laughed again.
1 year later and I proposed on bended knee in the middle of the pitch at West Bromwich Albion 29th December in front of 25,000 people. (It made front page news on 2 local papers). And we got married july 20th this year.
(Fri 29th Aug 2008, 9:38, More)
My chat up line was.. "Lydia...Thats a beautiful name". *way to go dickhead, you could have said anything..and you fucked it up with that* slaps forehead.
I've been singing in a band for over 10 years now, and we had a gig in the beer garden of our local pub - a fund raiser for charridy.. so we decided to forgo our usual fee in exchange for copious amounts of beer!
The place was so packed, there wasn't even standing room left, and despite all being shitfaced, we played a storming set and had everyone dancing and cheering for More!
Bizarrely, I decided to tell the audience over the mic that I was single..which got a laugh, but strangely it worked, and lots of girls came up after asking to "buy a cd" oh and drop in the fact that they were single too !
But none of them really did it for me, until this one gorgeous brunette came up to me for a cd.. I was speechless.. and kind of just stared into her beautiful green eyes with my mouth slightly open.
She had 'the' most beautiful smile I had ever seen, and I swear I could feel myself blushing! No, that was just the alcohol I told myself..
She wanted a CD, so I gave her one and asked "What's your name"?
"Lydia" she replied.
*say something..anything, quickly before she walks away*!!!
"That's a beautiful name" I said.
(SPANG SPANG SPANG FUCKING SPANG, WHAT A FUCKING RETARD!! YOU COULD HAVE SAID ANYTHING..BUT NO..WELL YOU CAN KISS THAT ONE GOODBYE..FUCKING IDIOT).
She smiled and said thank you and sat back down with her sister.
After I had repeatedly flushed my head down the toilet with shame, I decided to talk to her again..We sat chatting for ages..and then when she told me she was single too, I stood up with both fists in the air and shouted "YES" !
..then realised..that wasn't in my head.
She laughed again.
1 year later and I proposed on bended knee in the middle of the pitch at West Bromwich Albion 29th December in front of 25,000 people. (It made front page news on 2 local papers). And we got married july 20th this year.
(Fri 29th Aug 2008, 9:38, More)
» Faking it
Orgasms - Trade Secret.
Men can fake them too.
You tried all your best moves.. blew your wad fucking ages ago..but she still isn't there yet, and by sheer will power (or lack of):
a) managed to shoot your muck undetected
b) by some miracle kept a semi.
Thinking, "If you don't fucking come soon I'm gonna be as Limp as a dead ferret".. and then I'm gonna be busted.
Or there are times.. even us men.. where for whatever fucked up reason we just don't feel like it, but have kept a boner.. I don't know.. maybe its when you girls get a rythm going.. then stop.. then start.. then stop.. AAAARRRGGHH !!!
Eventually the cock says " Fuck this shit..I don't give a fuck how fit you are.. I'm not spitting for anybody". *sulks*
Yes our cocks can sulk.
So to make sure we ever get a chance to get our leg over again, we fake it.
(Thu 10th Jul 2008, 16:01, More)
Orgasms - Trade Secret.
Men can fake them too.
You tried all your best moves.. blew your wad fucking ages ago..but she still isn't there yet, and by sheer will power (or lack of):
a) managed to shoot your muck undetected
b) by some miracle kept a semi.
Thinking, "If you don't fucking come soon I'm gonna be as Limp as a dead ferret".. and then I'm gonna be busted.
Or there are times.. even us men.. where for whatever fucked up reason we just don't feel like it, but have kept a boner.. I don't know.. maybe its when you girls get a rythm going.. then stop.. then start.. then stop.. AAAARRRGGHH !!!
Eventually the cock says " Fuck this shit..I don't give a fuck how fit you are.. I'm not spitting for anybody". *sulks*
Yes our cocks can sulk.
So to make sure we ever get a chance to get our leg over again, we fake it.
(Thu 10th Jul 2008, 16:01, More)
» It's Not What It Looks Like!
Many many years ago I was a chorister.. (in the choir if I have just had a spelling fart)
I was only 7, and my brother was 10 (head choir boy, and labelled as Shropshire's answer to Aled Jones..Not that Aled was posing any questions like "Come and have a go if you think you're hard enough" as this would have lead to even more questions.. but there you have it). It was by anyone's standards an absolutely awesome choir, 30 or so strong, boys and men, the sound of our singing was like it was sent from the heavens, and as there were a few lads my age, we were always mucking about and playing jokes like pissing in the font..that kind of thing (Not really..we just pretended to..which for a young lad of 7 was comedy gold dust). A couple of mates always joked that I could hit the high notes because the air whistled through the braces on my nashers..which of course was nonsense..my voice could make the sternest of granny's weep with joy! No dental aids necessary to achieve such greatness..*coughs*.
Anyway, word was spreading of our fine choir of angels, and Lo..it came to pass.. that the Bishop of Lichfield was to visit our little country church with the idea of having us perform at his 'more grandios stage'.
Well our Reverend was in a proper flap, it was as if he'd got 10 chocolate eggs for Easter! There were to be no mistakes, and we practiced our little socks off, night after night, until it was note perfect.
The day came, and as usual, us lads were pratting about in the back where we got changed. As a laugh..one lad stuffed his cassock (choirboy outfit) into his mouth and said "Sorry Bishop, Michael can't sing today as I've eaten him".. to which we all virtually wet ourselves with laughter (we were 7). So I decided to do the same, stuffing it in my mouth and trying to speak..something was wrong.. My braces had caught onto the fabric! In a panic I pulled down, only for it to grip tighter..Oh shit..today of all days..All of my family had come to watch and there I was looking like a twat with a gown hanging out of my mouth. Cue the rest of the boys roaring with laughter...There is no fucking way I can go out looking like this! How can I sing? I'm normally stood right at the front...maybe if I snook in at the back nobody would notice?
The rest of the choir is out in front of the congregation..waiting for me..and I am hiding in the back room. Our Reverend comes looking for me, and following him is one of my 'so called mates that fucking deserted me in the first place' grinning like a fucking cheshire cat.
Reverends are not supposed to get angry..at least I don't think they are..but he went red in the face..calling me all the things under the sun.."STUPID BOY!! On THE MOST IMPORTANT DAY OF HIS LIFE"..frantically tugging at the garment, making it worse and worse.. I begin to cry.
Everyone is sat waiting for us, including the Bishop, we're running out of time....then the Reverend has a moment of "Genius" and tells my mate to put on the garment best he can to 'stretch' the material, and he would then attempt to pull me in the other direction.
The Bishop of Lichfield, curious as to the delay decides to see what is holding up proceedings, and flings open the door, only for himself and the whole congregation to see me bent over with tears in my eyes, mouth at the crotch of a startled 7 year old boy, and an angry red faced Reverend pulling at my waist..saying "JESUS FORGIVE ME!".
There were gasps, and there were sniggers. One of the congregation passed out, and sadly that was the last time I was in the choir..funnily enough me and my family stopped going to church after that.
The choir did however get to visit Lichfield..minus one silly little 7 year old.
(Tue 14th Dec 2010, 9:32, More)
Many many years ago I was a chorister.. (in the choir if I have just had a spelling fart)
I was only 7, and my brother was 10 (head choir boy, and labelled as Shropshire's answer to Aled Jones..Not that Aled was posing any questions like "Come and have a go if you think you're hard enough" as this would have lead to even more questions.. but there you have it). It was by anyone's standards an absolutely awesome choir, 30 or so strong, boys and men, the sound of our singing was like it was sent from the heavens, and as there were a few lads my age, we were always mucking about and playing jokes like pissing in the font..that kind of thing (Not really..we just pretended to..which for a young lad of 7 was comedy gold dust). A couple of mates always joked that I could hit the high notes because the air whistled through the braces on my nashers..which of course was nonsense..my voice could make the sternest of granny's weep with joy! No dental aids necessary to achieve such greatness..*coughs*.
Anyway, word was spreading of our fine choir of angels, and Lo..it came to pass.. that the Bishop of Lichfield was to visit our little country church with the idea of having us perform at his 'more grandios stage'.
Well our Reverend was in a proper flap, it was as if he'd got 10 chocolate eggs for Easter! There were to be no mistakes, and we practiced our little socks off, night after night, until it was note perfect.
The day came, and as usual, us lads were pratting about in the back where we got changed. As a laugh..one lad stuffed his cassock (choirboy outfit) into his mouth and said "Sorry Bishop, Michael can't sing today as I've eaten him".. to which we all virtually wet ourselves with laughter (we were 7). So I decided to do the same, stuffing it in my mouth and trying to speak..something was wrong.. My braces had caught onto the fabric! In a panic I pulled down, only for it to grip tighter..Oh shit..today of all days..All of my family had come to watch and there I was looking like a twat with a gown hanging out of my mouth. Cue the rest of the boys roaring with laughter...There is no fucking way I can go out looking like this! How can I sing? I'm normally stood right at the front...maybe if I snook in at the back nobody would notice?
The rest of the choir is out in front of the congregation..waiting for me..and I am hiding in the back room. Our Reverend comes looking for me, and following him is one of my 'so called mates that fucking deserted me in the first place' grinning like a fucking cheshire cat.
Reverends are not supposed to get angry..at least I don't think they are..but he went red in the face..calling me all the things under the sun.."STUPID BOY!! On THE MOST IMPORTANT DAY OF HIS LIFE"..frantically tugging at the garment, making it worse and worse.. I begin to cry.
Everyone is sat waiting for us, including the Bishop, we're running out of time....then the Reverend has a moment of "Genius" and tells my mate to put on the garment best he can to 'stretch' the material, and he would then attempt to pull me in the other direction.
The Bishop of Lichfield, curious as to the delay decides to see what is holding up proceedings, and flings open the door, only for himself and the whole congregation to see me bent over with tears in my eyes, mouth at the crotch of a startled 7 year old boy, and an angry red faced Reverend pulling at my waist..saying "JESUS FORGIVE ME!".
There were gasps, and there were sniggers. One of the congregation passed out, and sadly that was the last time I was in the choir..funnily enough me and my family stopped going to church after that.
The choir did however get to visit Lichfield..minus one silly little 7 year old.
(Tue 14th Dec 2010, 9:32, More)