» Food sabotage

Spicey minge
I hated my old flatmate with a passion that came from 9 months of her moaning non-stop about everything from lack of boys to my supposed bad washing-up, stealing my food as she had bulimia (so I couldn't have a go at her), stinking the house out with burnt cauliflower, threatening me with the police if I ever let anyone smoke weed in her house again (we were 1st year students) amongst many other crimes I've long forgotten, so I got her back by putting extra hot chilli powder:

In her flour

In her vanilla essence (this bulimic likes baking)

In her butter

In her pasta sauce

In her tomato puree

In her sugar (caster and demerera)

And my favourite- cramming some into the nozzle of her vaginal deodorant.

I wish I'd been there when she spiced up her minge- she was one of those weird Christian types who doesn't believe in touching it, always washed with a flannel etc so in my mind's eye it would have been a Laurel and Hardy-esque job to coordinate things to clean the burning hot snatch.
(Thu 18th Sep 2008, 17:03, More)

» Public Transport Trauma

Ahh Rwanda
Tha taxis in Rwanda are amazing- the driver will cram in as many people as possible, meaning the back seat holds a football team or two, the passenger seat holds 3 and the driver SHARES his seat with an extra passenger. Travelling like this he still tries to cram in anyone who sticks their arm out en route.

However (this does get good, bear with me), there are regular car-check posts where the police throw you in jail if you've got more than the regulation number in your car. Rwandans are lovely friendly people and look out for each other (genocide aside, ahem) so they have a system where a car coming at you will flash you if there are police up ahead.

Now there's not a lot you can do if your car is more overcrowded than Hillsborough and you're a couple of hundred yeards from a police check, or so you'd think... however in a resourcful move which would make Maggie Thatcher proud, hoards of boys on bicycles wait the couple of hundred yards down from policed check-points, waiting for heavily loaded cars to empty out the illegals. Then then run them across the check-point on the back of their bikes (boy-powered bike-taxis are totally legal of course) and deposit them rond the next corner. The taxi driver gives them 10p each and everyone is a winner.

I've just realised this is slightly off-topic, but it was ace and I wanted to share.

Length- well they are black so you work it out...
(Fri 30th May 2008, 16:23, More)

» I'm your biggest Fan

The Queen Pot
The story below reminds me of The Queen Pot, let me explain...

My whole family were obsessed with Queen, we watched their 1985 live video (kind of magic? I forget) so many times that we had all memorised the minute/second count of all our favourite parts. We desperately wanted to see Queen but as the children of unemployed hippies in the 80's, there was not a lot of money around. That's when my dad hit on the idea of The Queen Pot. Whenever anyone found any money in the street, even a penny, we had to deposit it in The Queen Pot. That The Queen Pot was actually a Militant party fund raising jar only added to the excitement- stickers of Lenin! Bright red!

So five of us scroungey chavscum types would scour the streets looking for pennies to one day realise our dreams. My dad even did a couple of minor insrance scams to get some extra money for it, and after over 5 years of collecting other people's money scraps like crazed metallophillic vultures we finally had the ~£200 needed to get 5 tickets to see Queen next time they played and get the train up to London.

Then he died.

My parents probably knew he was ill and thought it was a good discipline to instill in us, saving (and scrabbling amongst overflowing bins looking for a tuppence) rather than buying on credit.

I finally got to see 'Queen' at Hyde Park a couple of years ago and found myself making up an excuse to have 5 minutes on my own, away from the policeman who gave me one of his complimentary tickets for the London bombings etc, so I could have a private little cry for a) dead Freddie and b) a mini rememberence of how poor we were and how my lovely parents taught me that whilst you might go without for years to try and have your dream, it still might get snatched away from you.
(Fri 17th Apr 2009, 15:33, More)

» Accidental innuendo

Work summer outing...in my pants
I work in a engineering company and often have lots of boxes of components on my desk waiting for me to pass them onto the end recipient.

Last week we were discussing the summer day out- us non-geek types were eager to go somewhere that was NOT Hampton Court palace, for again. Sick of everyone twittering away and not getting anywhere, I stood up and shouted:

"Why don't we all just go in a room and play with my bits"

*shocked silence*

I follow this up with "I mean my box, errr boxes, err box of bits, not my rude bits..." I practiced my blushing a lot that afternoon.

The next day I asked someone very senior if he needed any Handjobs, instead of Handdown jobs (this is a real thing). I like my job :)
(Thu 12th Jun 2008, 12:57, More)

» Food sex

Kahlua
1) Gulp down a mouthful of Kahlua
2) Take a smaller sip into your mouth and hold it there
3) Lower your mouth onto some waiting lady bits
4) Perform cunnilingus as usual, being careful to keep Kahlua in mouth and not leak it onto said labia
5) Enjoy applause after making your companion orgasm twice as hard as usual in less than half the time.

*the two-sip approach helps stop excess saliva as the Kahlua is very syrupy and can shock the saliva glands into overproduction.
(Mon 10th Aug 2009, 11:40, More)