» Public Sex

Stinging nettles.... on.... the .... ring......
Badbob would also like to add that he popped his cherry outdoors on the way home from School with his best mate (who is a girl).

Was 15ish, it was a sunny day, she wore a school uniform (as was I), and I got stinging nettle rash on my ass.

She had been talking about sex, and I said I had never had it (I could be honest with this girl). She said she hadn't either. I joked we should give it a go (with that teenage bravado that now escapes me). She took me seriously, kissed me with the finest tonguing I have ever had and we done it in the woods. Hurt like holy-fuck, as we were both first-time amateurs in the sport (I have always resisted turning professional), but was very much enjoyable.

I couldn't believe my luck. I am no looker, and wasn't what you would call Athletic, and here was this girl, who was (in my opinion) gorgeous, sitting on my cock.

I panicked for about 3 months afterwards, as I hadn't wore a coat. But it never harmed our friendship, in fact we would do it again, many times, before our ways parted and she moved to France.

Guess where Badbob is flying to tomorrow.... France, and guess who he is going to be meeting up with while there...... :-)
(Thu 23rd Apr 2009, 19:20, More)

» Darwin Awards

Quick way to a spiked hairdo, with possible side effect of death.
Was detaching a shelf from a desk unit. One of those ones with a recess for your computer monitor with shelves above.

Dropped my screwdriver, which went straight through the ventilation slots on top of my old CRT monitor. Went to pick it up, earthed the whole damned lot, and got 25kV up the arm from the coil. It's not a high current device, but it was enough to send me back across the room about 10 feet and leave me with minor burns on my hand and feet (as well as the carpet).

I don't think I was knocked unconscious, but I did have a nervous twitch in my right arm for about a week as well as a blistered hand, melted screwdriver handle and a need for a new monitor as apparently CRT's do not like explosive discharge.

Now for any DIY, I always use an insulated screwdriver, latex gloves, toe-tectors, hard hat and I remove electrical devices for them room. Oh, and I can pick up Radio 2 if I tilt my head to the South.
(Sun 15th Feb 2009, 19:05, More)

» Call Centres

Hello, thank you for calling British Gas, calls may be retarded for training purposes.....
While at Uni all those years ago I worked for British Gas in their outgoing maintenance sales centre near Glasgow.

It was easy money, 3 hrs a night, 5 nights a week and it was on my way home from Uni. The easiest £600p/m I have ever earned (apart from that other time of which we won't speak). People registered their interest on t'interweb or by filling out coupons in the Radio Times and we called them back, took £15 a month of them and they got peace of mind with a total care package for their antique central heating systems. No cold calling involved.

One cold January evening, after I had pissed all over an exam at Uni I was in a bad mood. About halfway through the shift I made a call to a gent from Birmingham. It started badly when I mispronounced his surname, he then proceeded to call me a Scottish d*ckhead for calling him at the ungodly hour of 7pm and went further on to slag the Scots, Welsh and any other non-English races that happen to work in Call Centres. Normally I would have said my goodbyes at this point, and hung up, but not this time.... I decided to tell him what I thought of him, his mother, his dog and that as I had his address in front of me I would be down the next morning to kick him up and down New Street (being the only road in Brum I knew at the time). Then I hung up.

I thought all was well until about a week later, when my team leader came over to ask me if I would gather my things and follow her to listen to a recording of my calls. Needless to say, me and the good people at Centrica parted company about 2 weeks later once I felt I had milked my paid suspension long enough.
(Sun 6th Sep 2009, 18:51, More)

» Nativity Plays

I used to get dragged kicking and screaming....
... to Church (of Scotland) every Sunday morning, the Boys Brigade every Friday night and (horror of horrors) Choir practice every wednesday. Grandma Badbob was an elder of the church yesee(a semi-senior position in the CofS, kinda like a helper elf) and was very insistent that I be brought up a good and proper protestant, even though my mum had resisted the pressure to have me christened.

Anyway, i digress. As part of the duties in the Choir (where up until the age of 13 I was considered a bloody good singer and decent actor, even being invited to sing with the seniors) we were required to put on a show of sorts every Christmas, and in this particular year we were instructed to perform an abridged version of Joseph and his Technicolor(tm) Dreamcoat.

I got landed with the lead role, and for those unfamiliar with the show, there is a song which lists all of Josephs siblings, and believe me, there are a few (his mum and dad were like rabbits).

For weeks leading up to it, I struggled to remember the names, my 13 year old mind struggling to deal with having just learned self-pleasure, the joy of girls boobies and the fact that singing was becoming increasingly difficult.

So, the big day arrives.... Sunday before Chrimbo, the show takes to the stage (well, the open space between the congregation and the minister). I belt through the songs, struggling with the high notes and then the song of many names arrives.

My mind is a blank!

I completely make it up.....

Names sung included the biblical names of Pete, Dave, Timothy, Ahmed.....

I thought it was funny... the minister was wetting herself, the congregation applauded, my Gran was apoplectic! Her face was livid.

When i suggested in the new year that I should leave the choir as my voice had given way, there was no argument. This was followed by an orderly retreat from all Church events and groups over the next 2 years.

When I was 16, I told the family that yours truly was an Atheist (and also considering Communism) over dinner. There was little comment.

I thank Joseph and his many brethren for getting me out of organised religion.
(Sat 28th Mar 2009, 14:08, More)

» Vomit Pt2

Cat food.
What went in? About 10 pints of Stella, a bottle of Red Wine and some Whisky.

Came out all over the bedroom carpet while I was trying to make my way across a rotating room to the toilet.

I then mashed it into the carpet, by closing the door across it. When I got up in the morning and opened the door, mashing it some more, the cat rushed in and started eating it. This caused me to chuck again, but thankfully not over the cat.
(Wed 13th Jan 2010, 20:19, More)