b3ta.com user Wagane
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» Messing with people's heads

A few years back I had a van that everyone would pile in.
Now this van has something going on with the aerial where if the stereo was playing and I touched the outside of the window frame the sound would go out. Something to do with the earth being attached to the frame or sommat like that. I discovered this by tapping on the rim in time to the music. When I had mates in the car I would point with my other hand in a wanky way along with the beat and could cut the music seemingly at will just by pointing. At first people thought I'd spent ages fucking about with tapes so that I could fuck with them but it even worked when there was no tape and it was just the radio playing. It really would a couple of people up as they could just not work out how I was doing it. They eventually would guess sort of right but never exactly and as long as I had one hand tapping on the outer rim of the window and one hand pointing along to the beat it would drive them crazy thinking I was some type of weird wizard with an otherwise completely useless power.
(Sat 14th Jan 2012, 2:46, More)

» Good Advice

always check for paper
before you sit down.
(Thu 20th May 2010, 22:31, More)

» Doctors, Nurses, Dentists and Hospitals

It was the first weekend of the summer holidays.
My mate Ryan said he knew where there was a party and being 14 years old and up for large amounts of drinking we found out exactly where it was going to be and went. The crowd was a bit older than us, they were all in their 20's but as we were both very tall for our ages we were accepted no probs. The party was in full swing and after trying to snog Carmel and quite a few beers we found that the only drinks left were Blue Nun and red Lambrusco. I usually had a glass of red with Sunday lunch at my folks house and thought it was the height of sofistikashun to be drinking fizzy red wine out of the massive and distinctive bottle it came in.
Towards the end of the night and most people had left I ended up in the back garden puking party nibbles and thick red vomit. I was way too pissed to be able to walk home and so found a chair to sit down on and promptly fell asleep. Now this chair was one of those 70's jobs with a chrome frame and I fell asleep with my right arm draped over the side.
I woke up nice and early and only a little late for my paper round. I was only 14 and the paper round was at the time my only source of income. So with my head feeling like it had been split open and vomit poured in and then overflowed all down my face and onto my jumper and jeans I stood up and made my way to the front door. I got to the front door and put my right hand up to turn the latch but noticed that my hand wasn't working. My wrist was all limp and I couldn't move my fingers. I then realised I couldn't actually feel my hand. I thought it a bit odd but told myself that it was just a bit numb due to how I'd been sleeping and that giving it five minutes and a bit of pins and needles it would be fine. I walked to the paper shop, got my round ready (I had the smallest round by far, 16 papers during the week and 20 on a sunday) and delivered the papers. It must have taken me an hour to walk to the paper shop and do my round and my hand was still not working. Being severely hung over and stinking of sick and alcohol I finally got home and jumped in the shower and that was when I started to comprehend the full impact of a non functioning right hand for a 14 year old spunk filled walking hormone.
Anyway I woke up after a little nap and yup, it was still not working. It actually felt numb still. My wrist was slightly better but all of my fingers and my thumb were not listening to what my brain was trying to tell it. It had been a few hours now and I was beginning to get a bit worried. The last thing I wanted to do though was tell my parents. What could I say? Hi Mum, Dad, got wank faced drunk last night at a party, spent half the night heaving in the garden and the rest of it asleep at the house of someone I don't know and neither do you and so no I didn't sleep at Ryan's like I told you I was going to do, and, oh yeah, my hand is fucked.
So anyway, sunday dinner came and I did the best I could eating the roast with just a fork in my left hand as I couldn't even hold my knob in my right let alone a knife.
So monday morning and I get myself up nice and early for my paper round, still no working hand, and then I head to the doctors. I go in and see the doc and explain exactly what had happened (always felt that the best way is to be honest with the doctor as they have heard it and seen it all before). The doctor sits there thinking for a minute and then goes and gets all the other doctors from their rooms and now I have 8 doctors all looking at me and asking questions and poking and playing with my hand when one of them says that they have heard about this but never seen it before. It's called, and I kid you not, Saturday Night Palsy and it is usually homeless drunks who get it after getting blasted and then falling asleep on a park bench with their arm over the back. A nerve near the armpit gets damaged and it gets better with time but there is nothing that can be done to make it better. I should only be a week or two but they couldn't tell me exactly and I should come back in a few weeks if it wasn't getting any better.
Well at least I knew what it was now and it wasn't permanant. It did take about 5 weeks or so to get back to normal with gradual feeling and movement returning first in my thumb and then the first two fingers but the other two and that side of my hand were numb and lifeless for a long time.
People still think I'm joking when I tell them about it but it's there, you can google it, Saturday Night Palsy!

Apologies for length but I was 14 and had to learn how to knock one out with my left hand.
(Thu 11th Mar 2010, 19:56, More)

» Vomit Pt2

The flat we shared while at college was above a hairdressers
They didn't like us and as they had a spare key they would often use it to enter, come up the stairs and ask us to turn down the music. One of the was called Jolene, so when THEY made too much noise we put on the Dolly Parton song and stamped our way though the chorus singing 'Jolene, Jolene...@ anyhoo
One night one of the house mates had decided to drop out and so we had a big piss up to see him off. After way too many, and some serious bonging, one of the number opened the corner window (the one above the entrance to the hairdressers) and speweed his ring, this led to another one joining in and there were two lads fighting for space hurling potnoodles and cheap beer onto the small awning that supposedly sheltered those entering the shop below lookng to get a blue rinse.
So the morning comes around and the hairdressers downstairs turn up for work and notice a stinking dripping mess covering the step outside their door. They were banging on our door for a good five minutes before I opened my window to see what the noise was and was told to 'get down here and clear up this mess'. Well, it wasn't my room and wasn't my sick so I woke up the fat ginger bloke whose window had been used as a toilet and told him about the problem. He went and filled a bucket with hot water, opened the window, threw out the water and went back to bed.
They really didn't like us much at the hairdressers.
(Fri 8th Jan 2010, 15:55, More)

» Racist grandparents

a mate of mine
got an art scholarship type thing for a french uni back in the day and one summer hitched around France a bit. Even now generally the more remote you get in france the fewer blacks people are seen. O e day an old lady came up to him be genuinely interested in him, asking him questions, impressed at his good french sneaked to rib his ski to see if the colour came off. She also got a pen and some paper as she couldn't believe he would be able to write.

Also when my gran heard was marrying a black girl she angrily told my mum that her first great grandchild had been a bastard and she didn't want the second to be a nigger!
(Mon 31st Oct 2011, 8:37, More)
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