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» Unexpected Nudity

stupid flasher
I was flashed once when I was 14.

This guy can't have been quite right in the head as I'd seen him a few times earlier that same day nipping to the shop and a friend's place without incident. He decided to flash me when I was out with my dog.

I say "dog", Jack was the size of a small horse. He was also daft as a brush and seemed convinced that he was in fact a very small dog. He was also generally quite friendly (although he used to smile at people in a way that really creeped them out) so what he did surprised me in many ways.

He started to growl at this strange man waving his cock at me and pulling on his leash so I was really struggling to keep a hold of him. Some people might have just let him go and if I'm honest I did consider it, but at the time I had no idea what the consequences might be if Jack were to maul him and didn't really want to find out.

By this point, the bloke is rather scared and Jack is barking at him, pulling harder then ever. Not even bothering to put his bits away, he decided to leg it...

MISTAKE

Slight backstory here. Jack loved to chase things. The problem with this is that he never quite figured out how to stop once he'd caught whatever he was chasing. We had to shut him in a seperate room whenever we hoovered otherwise you'd get a fluffy mass barelling into you and knocking you over. I knew I had to catch him before he really hurt this guy, flasher or no

The leash is torn from my hands and Jack is off like a shot. I ran after them, following the screams. By the time i catch up, Jack has the guy pinned, but I couldn't do anything to help. I was too busy laughing.

Jack had tackled him from behind and proceeded to hump him. By the time I had caught up he was trying very hard to stick his cock in this disgusting fella's ear. When I managed to regain control of myself, there was quite a crowd. All of them laughing and a few of them trying to remove Jack from this "poor poor man".

I explained to a couple of guys there what had happened. More laughter ensued and the police were called. Flasher was lifted on the spot, taken to the nick via A&E. Jack's vigorous humping had burst his ear drum.

It turned out they'd been after him for a while. This guy had been flashing pregnant women and children from the primary school down the road (eeew).

Length? I didn't see much through the tears of laughter but apparently it hurt :p
(Sun 31st May 2009, 0:04, More)

» Turning into your parents

My mum
A bit of back story is required here I think.

My dad is a complete waster. He has never had a kind word for me or my brother. He's also an alcoholic and a drug addict. We cut off contact with him a couple of years ago and have been happier since.

He spent a lot of our childhood lying to us both about everything under the sun. Most of these lies were about my Mum. Because of this, we both opted to live with my Dad after they divorced. I'm ashamed to say that I believed everything he said and thought my Mum was some form of demon. During the time we lived with my Dad, I had almost no contact with my Mum, my brother had slightly more than I did but still very little.

After a few years, we began to see what my dad was really like. We saw him drinking every night, regularly soiling himself and becoming violent after taking E, diazapam, any other substance he could get his hands on. At the time, my brother and I thought we were stuck. We had a horrible mother and an abusive good for nothing father which meant we had nowhere to go.

After many arguments, some violence and several attempted suicides (by my brother), he was thrown out on Christmas eve. Having nowhere else to go and still being in high school he went to live with our Mum. Not wanting to be around when she came to collect him, I proceeded to go out and get completely shitfaced.

After he left, i plunged into depression. I'd always been close with my brother and spent most of my time worrying about him. For about a year I had no contact with him until one day I saw him in town.

I was amazed. He looked happier than I'd ever seen him before. We started catching up immediately. It turns out that when he'd gone to live our Mum, she had been nothing like our Dad had told us. When my brother had been thrown out, he stayed with her for a grand total of three days. She had asked him what he wanted to do, to which his answer had been "I want to go back and finish high school". She helped him find a place near school, supported him until he got benefits sorted and visited him regularly, despite the 2 hour drive between them.

A few months down the line, I found myself being thrown out. A month before my 16th birthday no less. Too old to be put in care, too young to live on my own so the social workers called my Mum. My brother's situation had given me some hope, but I was still nervous. He had at least some semblance of a relationship with my mum, whereas I had none. We hadn't spoken in over 4 years.

The journey back to her place was unnerving. Neither of us knew what to say so most of it was spent in silence. When she finally did speak all she said was that I couldn't smoke or drink while living with her unless I could pay for it myself.

When we finally made it to her house (it seemed to take forever), I met my step-dad, I saw my grandad and uncles for the first time in years. They had all come to welcome me back. Needless to say after they had gone I broke down and cried. My step-dad thought it best to leave me alone with my Mum at the time while we had a chat.

She hugged me while I cried and we spoke about the time I had spent living with my Dad. I cried some more, she made me something to eat, i cried again and we chatted more.

I was very emotionally damaged from all the things my Dad had put me through and that night my Mum managed to help me more than 3 years of seeing a child psychiatrist had.

Because I was 15, I couldn't do what my brother had done, so I was registered at the local high school. With 3 months to go before my standard grades and a lack of attendance at my previous school due to my love of sitting at home smoking weed meant I had a lot to do if I wanted to have any chance at passing.

My Mum's side of the family rallied round me. They helped me with homework, took me to extra classes and generally did anything they thought would help. I passed with very good marks in the end and went to college to study nursing.

For the first time in my life I had a supportive and loving family. It felt fecking great. For the first time in my life I didn't feel completely useless and unworthy. That also felt fecking great.

Now, 4 years on from that, my brother and I have had our fair share of problems. Just as we were getting to know our Gran properly again, she died. This upset me, but it completely overwhelmed my brother. It resulted in another attempt to take his own life, this time it was a bit more serious than the last. He ended up in a psychiatric ward, but with the kindness and care from the staff, and my Mum visiting him at least twice a week he was released shortly after and has been like a whole new person since.

I feel like an idiot a lot of the time for believing what I was told about her. The only excuse I have is that I was very young but that doesn't excuse me in any way.

To sum up, my Mum is the most caring and supportive person I have met. She never panics, has lots of common sense and there's never a situation she doesn't know how to deal with. She's fun to be around and doesn't take crap from anyone.

I'm 20 now and have a baby of my own on the way. If I become even something close to being like her then I know that my little boy will grow up happy and healthy.

no apologies for length, it's awesome!
(Sat 2nd May 2009, 13:24, More)

» Buses

Bird vs Bus
It's 7.30am, a beautiful day in fife and i'm standing at the bus stop waiting for the bus to college.

Bus comes on time for a change. I flash my weekly ticket, insert my headphones and settle down for the 7 mile journey.

I'm was sitting quite close to the driver so I got a spectacular view of what happened next. An explosion of blood and feathers hits the windscreen. The driver shouts "fucking hell!" and swerves a little. He manages to pull over and goes outside to inspect the damage.

As he returns to the bus he's looking fairly green round the gills. What had happened is that he'd hit a pigeon which had become lodged in the radiator grill, however, as he tried to tell us all this delightful peice of news he can't quite get it out and instead vomits all over my shoes.

Now regretting my decision to wear open-toed sandals I also vomit on my shoes,(i can't stand to see someone else being sick), which sets the driver off once more. Apologies to anyone who was on board that bus and had to watch the driver and myself tandem vomiting for a good 5 minutes.

Thankfully the driver does have a bottle of water I can rinse my feet with and a plastic bag for my shoes. While he lays sand over the sick, I step off the bus to rinse my feet and am treated to a view of the ex mr birdy who had screwed up my morning. I manage not to be sick again and board the bus once more. Enough dead bird is rinsed from the windshield for us to continue to the depot where a replacement bus is on standby.

As I'm still reeking of vom and in dire need of a shower, the bus driver is nice enough to let me use the phone at the depot to ring the college. I explain what happened to my course head but he decides I'm making it up despite my offer to come in late but stay late to get caught up on what i've missed that morning.

I finally arrive at the college, getting looks ranging from curiosity to disgust. I wander into class barefoot and reeking of vomit, straight up to bastard lecturer and he asks where my shoes are. I open my poly bag with flourish and he starts to look rather green himself but thankfully decides to send me home with the work I was meant to be doing that day.

The bus journey home was uneventful, although everyone sat as far away from me as possible.
(Mon 29th Jun 2009, 18:05, More)

» Turning into your parents

This
i94.photobucket.com/albums/l101/Sam_Chan/copyofscan.jpg

This is my little boy :)

The reality of my situation didn't really hit me until I'd had the scan.

Now, whenever I feel him move my hand automatically goes to my stomach and I think "awwwwwwwwwwww"
My reaction is the same when I see baby clothes.
I've also taken up knitting. It's actually very theraputic.
I now collect 50p coins and keep them in a box, another £3 and i'll open a savings account for him.
I wear leggings because jeans are uncomfy.
I have a strange desire to expand on my knitting and start doing cross stitch and crochet again.

In short, pregnancy is turning me into my grandmother. I'm one step away from being exactly like her. I've warned my man to let me know if he ever hears me speaking german to my womb :s

Length? About the same as a bar of chocolate apparently :o
(Sun 3rd May 2009, 11:27, More)

» Siblings

I have one brother
I love him more than anyone else in the world. He is 2 years older than me and we have very similar sense of humor.

Even though when we were younger I broke his nose 3 times, and in turn he has broken my nose once, broken my wrist and bruised the bone on my elbow.

We are a bit screwed up, mostly because of our doting father who used to tell us "your grandfather offered your mum money to have you aborted" and such other nice things. Because of this we both have issues trusting anyone other than eachother.

As we got older and all the childish fighting stopped, he has been there for me through thick and thin. He was there for me when depression and alcoholism threatened to end me, he was there when I made a very bad decision and moved in with possibly the creepiest man in the world who made him uncomfortable by telling him what I was like in bed, he was there when i stupidly got back in touch with my previously mentioned doting father and gave me somewhere to stay when i was too scared to go home incase he showed up.

In turn I stopped him getting evicted, gave him a shoulder to cry on when our grandfather died, and again when our gran sadly passed away aswell.

For a while we didn't talk as he ended up with very severe depression and tried to kill himself, which led to him being sectioned. Unfortunately it was me that called the police and had him carted off to the hospital so he really didn't want to talk to me at the time.

Since then he has mostly recovered and is back to being his weird but awesome self. We both still have a lot of issues with our father and I look forward to the day he can learn to put things behind him, like i have started to do.

So, incase you ever read this bro, I love you to bits and wouldn't have you any other way. Every day I thank whatever god there might be that you didn't succeed in killing yourself. I don't know what i'd do without you.

Apologies for lack of funny
(Wed 31st Dec 2008, 10:50, More)
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