» Darwin Awards

Brushes with the Grim Reaper? That night, a good few.
I'll keep this as short and sweet as I can, was only the other week or so when the country went barmy over the snow. I don't know whether it was the snow or the copious amounts of red stripe that had been consumed that made us do these things.

So I'll set the scene, just around the corner from my girlfriends house is quite a large reservoir, Edgbaston reservoir for those who live in Birmingham. Its got quite a large hill, ideal for sledging. No sledge? but you've a pair of the pallets that your mattress lies on? - You can see where this is going.

On the way back to the reservoir with many a can of red stripe in hand and enough masking tape to seal the San Andreas fault we pass a toilet. Some people steal traffic signs, some people steal cones. This night, we stole a second hand toilet off some-ones doorstep. See figure a:



I say again, I don't know whether it was the snow or the red stripe that made us do these things.

This is where the danger begins, illustrated better by this picture:



I could end this story here and say that having your feet heavily strapped to two, 3ft non-ski fit planks on a snowy hill is how I met the grim reaper. But i'll carry on.

After much more farting about in the snow and failing to ski, we made our way to the bottom of the hill. Toilet in hand.
We discovered a football in a nearby tree and as you may or may not do when drunk, (I'm thinking about that advert where the lass loses her balloon...) my friend decides to climb such tree. Can you guess what happens next?

We pass the toilet to him in hope of placing it within the tree and for it to forever be one of those wierd, urban things what no-one can explain. Seemed logical at the time, in hindsight no-one would have been impressed. Another picture to show such friend in tree:



Standing under a tree while drunk, when slippery and snowy, of which a toilet is being balanced is where my story of my brush with the Grim Reaper nears an end. I just don't understand how in a split second of seeing the toilet hurtle towards my face, being able to gain cat like features and flinch out the way.

To conclude, me and my 3 mates that night did indeed have a couple of encounters with death but we all survived. For the toilet that was destined for a meeting with death himself at the local tip, we gave him his last hurrah, having fun with a bunch of arses and a second life :



Apologies for poor grammar and thanks for reading.
(Fri 13th Feb 2009, 1:12, More)

» Guilty Laughs

Just when I thought a celeb hadn't died in a while,
One does right on cue.
(Sun 25th Jul 2010, 14:29, More)

» Failed Projects

Peas roasting on an open fire....
I'll keep this as short and sweet as I can, was only the other week (Pea update: January I think) or so when the country went barmy over the snow. I don't know whether it was the snow or the copious amounts of red stripe that had been consumed that made us do these things.

So I'll set the scene, just around the corner from my (Pea update: EX) girlfriends house is quite a large reservoir, Edgbaston reservoir for those who live in Birmingham. Its got quite a large hill, ideal for sledging. No sledge? but you've a pair of the pallets that your mattress lies on? - You can see where this is going.

On the way back to the reservoir with many a can of red stripe in hand and enough masking tape to seal the San Andreas fault we pass a toilet. Some people steal traffic signs, some people steal cones. This night, we stole a second hand toilet off some-ones doorstep. See figure a:



I say again, I don't know whether it was the snow or the red stripe that made us do these things.

This is where the danger begins (Pea update: Where the failed project began), illustrated better by this picture:



I could end this story here and say that having your feet heavily strapped to two, 3ft non-ski fit planks on a snowy hill is how I met the grim reaper (Pea update: Where the project failed). But i'll carry on.

After much more farting about in the snow and failing to ski, we made our way to the bottom of the hill. Toilet in hand.
We discovered a football in a nearby tree and as you may or may not do when drunk, (I'm thinking about that advert where the lass loses her balloon...) my friend decides to climb such tree. Can you guess what happens next?

We pass the toilet to him in hope of placing it within the tree and for it to forever be one of those wierd, urban things what no-one can explain. Seemed logical at the time, in hindsight no-one would have been impressed. Another picture to show such friend in tree:



Standing under a tree while drunk, when slippery and snowy, of which a toilet is being balanced is where my story of my brush with the Grim Reaper nears an end. I just don't understand how in a split second of seeing the toilet hurtle towards my face, being able to gain cat like features and flinch out the way.

To conclude, me and my 3 mates that night did indeed have a couple of encounters with death (Pea update: with many failed mini projects along the way) but we all survived. For the toilet that was destined for a meeting with death himself at the local tip, we gave him his last hurrah, having fun with a bunch of arses and a second life :



All in all, not such a failed project afterall.
(Thu 3rd Dec 2009, 15:17, More)

» Guilty Pleasures, part 2

No Guilt
Farting in the dogs face.

That is all.
(Thu 13th Mar 2008, 20:15, More)

» Karma

OmFGLolZZ!2!!11!
My karma has just run over my dogma!
(Thu 21st Feb 2008, 20:54, More)