Profile for Bob Frapples:
Hello! I'm Bob Frapples and I'm a frequent lurker. I rarely summon up the courage to beaker on here but, nonetheless, here I am...
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- a member for 16 years, 7 months and 29 days
- has posted 2 messages on the main board
- has posted 7 messages on the talk board
- has posted 8 messages on the links board
- (including 3 links)
- has posted 10 stories and 19 replies on question of the week
- They liked 14 pictures, 29 links, 1 talk posts, and 91 qotw answers.
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Hello! I'm Bob Frapples and I'm a frequent lurker. I rarely summon up the courage to beaker on here but, nonetheless, here I am...
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
» Gyms
This was my second week...
...at a new gym, with an eagerly athletic (and incredibly patronising when it came to fitness) new bloke in tow. I was desperately trying to give off the impression that I knew what I was doing and that I, too, was a super-fit gym-bunny (and not a student layabout whose only exercise came from pushing her luck!). Therefore, dressed to impress (or so I thought at the time) in full make-up and skin-tight lycra (I must have looked like a total twat), I clambered aboard the treadmill next to his. Warming up quickly, I glanced over at his settings and notched my speed up to out-do him. The pace was fast and I was just about handling it. He looked over at me and, smiling, notched his machine up another couple of mph. I matched him, breathless, red-faced and sweating, concentrating hard, very hard, to keep my legs moving quickly enough....
....Until a hair grip flew out of my hair and I, with a gut reaction, turned around to grab it, flew off the machine, face-planted the wall behind and slunk out of the room in shame (and pain!) to the applause and raucous laughter of the entire room.
Once I had stopped bleeding and he had stopped laughing, we had words and joint gym-time ceased. These days neither of us bother, he's gained a few stone thanks to a lazy desk job. I'm eating a rhubarb pie as i type! Gyms are dangerous, expensive and humiliating- just go outside!
(Tue 14th Jul 2009, 22:20, More)
This was my second week...
...at a new gym, with an eagerly athletic (and incredibly patronising when it came to fitness) new bloke in tow. I was desperately trying to give off the impression that I knew what I was doing and that I, too, was a super-fit gym-bunny (and not a student layabout whose only exercise came from pushing her luck!). Therefore, dressed to impress (or so I thought at the time) in full make-up and skin-tight lycra (I must have looked like a total twat), I clambered aboard the treadmill next to his. Warming up quickly, I glanced over at his settings and notched my speed up to out-do him. The pace was fast and I was just about handling it. He looked over at me and, smiling, notched his machine up another couple of mph. I matched him, breathless, red-faced and sweating, concentrating hard, very hard, to keep my legs moving quickly enough....
....Until a hair grip flew out of my hair and I, with a gut reaction, turned around to grab it, flew off the machine, face-planted the wall behind and slunk out of the room in shame (and pain!) to the applause and raucous laughter of the entire room.
Once I had stopped bleeding and he had stopped laughing, we had words and joint gym-time ceased. These days neither of us bother, he's gained a few stone thanks to a lazy desk job. I'm eating a rhubarb pie as i type! Gyms are dangerous, expensive and humiliating- just go outside!
(Tue 14th Jul 2009, 22:20, More)
» DIY disasters
I Like This...
www.sniffpetrol.com/wp-content/uploads/spadikea.jpg
...as I have no amusing DIY stories to tell!
(Wed 9th Apr 2008, 16:59, More)
I Like This...
www.sniffpetrol.com/wp-content/uploads/spadikea.jpg
...as I have no amusing DIY stories to tell!
(Wed 9th Apr 2008, 16:59, More)
» The B3TA Confessional
Forgive me father, for I have killed...
Whilst playing outside in the garden one day, aged about ten, I spotted a Blackbird chick cowering under the hedge. The poor thing had clearly fallen from its nest and, fascinated, I picked him up for a closer inspection. I couldn't see the parents anywhere to hand him back to, so I took him inside to show my Dad, who told me that they might not want him anymore now he had been handled by a human. Distraught at the sudden realization of what I had done, I decided to put the chick in a cardboard box with a few holes punched in the lid and take him over to the local RSPCA shelter. When I got there, however, they were shut, and so I left him outside the gate for whoever opened up in the morning to find and rescue.
I honestly believed that I was doing the right thing, but really I almost certainly ensured that the poor creature starved to death in the night, trapped in a box where his parents had no hope of finding him, or, worse still, was easy pickings for a cat or a fox. This only came clear a few days later when my Dad asked what I had done with him in the end, having assumed he was put back in the garden. I feel just as guilty for killing that bird now as I did then, and no matter how many fat-balls or bags of peanuts I buy, it just won't go away. Sorry, bird...
(Tue 31st Aug 2010, 22:02, More)
Forgive me father, for I have killed...
Whilst playing outside in the garden one day, aged about ten, I spotted a Blackbird chick cowering under the hedge. The poor thing had clearly fallen from its nest and, fascinated, I picked him up for a closer inspection. I couldn't see the parents anywhere to hand him back to, so I took him inside to show my Dad, who told me that they might not want him anymore now he had been handled by a human. Distraught at the sudden realization of what I had done, I decided to put the chick in a cardboard box with a few holes punched in the lid and take him over to the local RSPCA shelter. When I got there, however, they were shut, and so I left him outside the gate for whoever opened up in the morning to find and rescue.
I honestly believed that I was doing the right thing, but really I almost certainly ensured that the poor creature starved to death in the night, trapped in a box where his parents had no hope of finding him, or, worse still, was easy pickings for a cat or a fox. This only came clear a few days later when my Dad asked what I had done with him in the end, having assumed he was put back in the garden. I feel just as guilty for killing that bird now as I did then, and no matter how many fat-balls or bags of peanuts I buy, it just won't go away. Sorry, bird...
(Tue 31st Aug 2010, 22:02, More)
» Professions I Hate
Mechanics!
In particular, the kind who make sucking noises through their teeth whilst assessing the work that needs to be done. The ones who think that, because I happen to have been born in possession of some ladyparts, I must know absolutely nothing about cars, and therefore that they'll be able to get away with adding a little bit of headlight fluid to the invoice...
(Thu 27th May 2010, 20:51, More)
Mechanics!
In particular, the kind who make sucking noises through their teeth whilst assessing the work that needs to be done. The ones who think that, because I happen to have been born in possession of some ladyparts, I must know absolutely nothing about cars, and therefore that they'll be able to get away with adding a little bit of headlight fluid to the invoice...
(Thu 27th May 2010, 20:51, More)
» Irrational Hatred
The 'Drive Thru''
THE FUCKING DRIVE THRU'! Especially where there is space for the two extra characters.
(Mon 4th Apr 2011, 22:11, More)
The 'Drive Thru''
THE FUCKING DRIVE THRU'! Especially where there is space for the two extra characters.
(Mon 4th Apr 2011, 22:11, More)