Profile for Evil Bastardo:
As you can see, I've been a member for a decade (yes a fucking decade!). Which makes me wonder if I actually used to work for the 5 years of my career that I had before I joined up. :)
Live in Warwickshire, work in Cov, originally from oop North.
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- a member for 21 years, 11 months and 24 days
- it's my b3ta birthday in 5 days
- has posted 211 messages on the main board
- has posted 14 messages on the talk board
- has posted 7 messages on the links board
- has posted 74 stories and 239 replies on question of the week
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As you can see, I've been a member for a decade (yes a fucking decade!). Which makes me wonder if I actually used to work for the 5 years of my career that I had before I joined up. :)
Live in Warwickshire, work in Cov, originally from oop North.
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
» Accidentally Erotic
As a teenager......
...I used to go to a hairdressers run by a slightly portly girl in her early 30's. Not a great deal to look at but god had granted her with the largest chest my young and horny eyes had ever come across. They used to brush against my shoulder as she cut my hair and I could look down her top as she cut the front. The beauty of it being a hairdressers was that my growing excitement was always hidden by the massive gown they put over you to stop the hair getting on your clothes.
I'd go for haircuts as often as possible, even if I quite obviously didn't really need one.
Thinking about it I'm quite ashamed as it's exceptionally perverted.
I'm also bald now. So there's karma for you.
(Thu 2nd Feb 2006, 13:59, More)
As a teenager......
...I used to go to a hairdressers run by a slightly portly girl in her early 30's. Not a great deal to look at but god had granted her with the largest chest my young and horny eyes had ever come across. They used to brush against my shoulder as she cut my hair and I could look down her top as she cut the front. The beauty of it being a hairdressers was that my growing excitement was always hidden by the massive gown they put over you to stop the hair getting on your clothes.
I'd go for haircuts as often as possible, even if I quite obviously didn't really need one.
Thinking about it I'm quite ashamed as it's exceptionally perverted.
I'm also bald now. So there's karma for you.
(Thu 2nd Feb 2006, 13:59, More)
» Heckles
I went to....
...watch Hole in Manchester in the mid nineties on the tour after Kurt Cobain had off'd himself. During a quiet bit Courtney Love was trying to get the crowd to agree to burn all of their Pearl Jam and Soundgarden albums in exchange for her singing a cover of Penny Royal Tea. I chose this moment to tell her, in a very loud voice, to 'Fuck Off and dig Kurt up you talentless bitch'.
The silence was deadening.
(Thu 6th Apr 2006, 17:41, More)
I went to....
...watch Hole in Manchester in the mid nineties on the tour after Kurt Cobain had off'd himself. During a quiet bit Courtney Love was trying to get the crowd to agree to burn all of their Pearl Jam and Soundgarden albums in exchange for her singing a cover of Penny Royal Tea. I chose this moment to tell her, in a very loud voice, to 'Fuck Off and dig Kurt up you talentless bitch'.
The silence was deadening.
(Thu 6th Apr 2006, 17:41, More)
» Lies that got out of control
About 15 years ago.
I'd started going out with a girl in my home town. At first I didn't think the relationship was going to go beyond the seeing each other at the weekends stage, but over time we saw more and more of each other and met each others parents and would regularly stay over at each others houses.
My lie began whilst talking to her family about holidays. Her family were well into holidays, holiday brochures were frequently read throughout the year and once a holiday had been booked it was all they'd talk about until they went on it. They even took trips to the airport to watch the planes take off and arrive.
During one of their holiday discussions her mum asked me what holidays I'd been on (I'd only ever been to Wales or the Lakes, never abroad) and for some reason (it must have been misguided embarrassment at having never been on a plane) I told her that I'd been to Florida and visted Disney Land and Universal studios years earlier. I immediately wish I hadn't said anything as it turned out that Florida was their dream holiday destination and they began asking me lots of questions about it. I tried to blag my way out of it by saying it had been years before and I didn't remember to much. But everytime a holiday conversation started it would inevitably turn to my ficticious holiday in Florida and I'd sit and squirm and lie even more about the details.
This is were the lie gets out of control.
We'd now been going out for around about a year and christmas was coming up and both sets of parents were asking if it would be a good idea for us all to have a meet up at christmas so that our parents could meet each other. I knew there was no way of getting out of this, and I also knew that some how the topic of holidays was bound to come around in conversation. To say I worried about this was an understatement. I lost sleep over it and eventually instead of coming clean to my girlfriend and her parents, I came clean to my parents.
And this is why I'll love them forever. They went along with the lie. We met my girlfriends parents and when the conversation did eventually turn to holidays (directed that way by my girlfriends parents) my mum and dad just said that we'd been to florida a few years before, gave sketchy details, and bluffed their way through it like troopers.
It was horrible, and I couldn't wait to break up with her so that the lie could be eventually put to bed! :P
I've now put away my shovel and stopped digging such big holes!!
(Tue 17th Aug 2010, 17:12, More)
About 15 years ago.
I'd started going out with a girl in my home town. At first I didn't think the relationship was going to go beyond the seeing each other at the weekends stage, but over time we saw more and more of each other and met each others parents and would regularly stay over at each others houses.
My lie began whilst talking to her family about holidays. Her family were well into holidays, holiday brochures were frequently read throughout the year and once a holiday had been booked it was all they'd talk about until they went on it. They even took trips to the airport to watch the planes take off and arrive.
During one of their holiday discussions her mum asked me what holidays I'd been on (I'd only ever been to Wales or the Lakes, never abroad) and for some reason (it must have been misguided embarrassment at having never been on a plane) I told her that I'd been to Florida and visted Disney Land and Universal studios years earlier. I immediately wish I hadn't said anything as it turned out that Florida was their dream holiday destination and they began asking me lots of questions about it. I tried to blag my way out of it by saying it had been years before and I didn't remember to much. But everytime a holiday conversation started it would inevitably turn to my ficticious holiday in Florida and I'd sit and squirm and lie even more about the details.
This is were the lie gets out of control.
We'd now been going out for around about a year and christmas was coming up and both sets of parents were asking if it would be a good idea for us all to have a meet up at christmas so that our parents could meet each other. I knew there was no way of getting out of this, and I also knew that some how the topic of holidays was bound to come around in conversation. To say I worried about this was an understatement. I lost sleep over it and eventually instead of coming clean to my girlfriend and her parents, I came clean to my parents.
And this is why I'll love them forever. They went along with the lie. We met my girlfriends parents and when the conversation did eventually turn to holidays (directed that way by my girlfriends parents) my mum and dad just said that we'd been to florida a few years before, gave sketchy details, and bluffed their way through it like troopers.
It was horrible, and I couldn't wait to break up with her so that the lie could be eventually put to bed! :P
I've now put away my shovel and stopped digging such big holes!!
(Tue 17th Aug 2010, 17:12, More)
» Dad stories
Dad.
Lots of my friends have great relationships with their dads, some of them can't stand theirs. My dad was my best friend.
My dad suffered throughout his life. He was the eldest of five children of a single mother living on a liverpool council estate, he'd had rheumatic fever as a child leaving him needing a heart valve fitted in his late teens. He was an artist, and a head of art at a local school until he became manic depressive. The best years of my childhood were spent visiting him in various hospitals and living in a strange atmosphere dependent on how he was feeling while he was at home.
By the time new cocktails of drugs had stabilised his mood swings effectively I was into my mid teens and he had a grand daughter to dote on from my elder brother. I guess you could say I was pretty jealous of the attention she got from him as I'd missed that growing up.
As I got into my elder teens my dads personality started to come back stronger and stronger as drugs to treat manic depression became better and better. And I learnt to enjoy this as a young adult having finally shrugged off the sulkiness of being a teenager.
We'd go to the pub together, joke together and being a student meant I had all the time in the world to spend with him. He soon became part of my group of friends and if he didn't come out because he was spending time with my mum he was missed. He looked just like George Best, he was a big smiling lovable giant bloke who made everyone smile with his stories and was an incredibly talented artist.
In the week leading up to my 21st birthday he developed a fever. Not a big problem, he just didn't feel well enough to join us for the meal we'd planned to celebrate. He'd made the effort to join me for a drink earlier in the week though so atleast we'd done a bit of celebrating together. The doctor had been out to see him and thought it was probably just a urinary infection. Treatment given, would be right as rain in a week or so. The night after my birthday he took a turn for the worst. Despite the best efforts of the ambulance staff, and the doctors once he'd got to the hospital, they couldn't stop the bleeding that had occured due to a cyst that had ruptured on one of his kidneys. The cyst hadn't been picked up by the doctor that had visited and the symptons he was showing hadn't been noticed. He died that night.
Seriously folks. I know they can be cantankerous bastards at times, or they can seem a bit past it in the modern world. But if you are close to your dad at all, spend as much time as you can with him. It hurts every day when they're gone. (Same goes for either parent).
(Thu 25th Nov 2010, 14:35, More)
Dad.
Lots of my friends have great relationships with their dads, some of them can't stand theirs. My dad was my best friend.
My dad suffered throughout his life. He was the eldest of five children of a single mother living on a liverpool council estate, he'd had rheumatic fever as a child leaving him needing a heart valve fitted in his late teens. He was an artist, and a head of art at a local school until he became manic depressive. The best years of my childhood were spent visiting him in various hospitals and living in a strange atmosphere dependent on how he was feeling while he was at home.
By the time new cocktails of drugs had stabilised his mood swings effectively I was into my mid teens and he had a grand daughter to dote on from my elder brother. I guess you could say I was pretty jealous of the attention she got from him as I'd missed that growing up.
As I got into my elder teens my dads personality started to come back stronger and stronger as drugs to treat manic depression became better and better. And I learnt to enjoy this as a young adult having finally shrugged off the sulkiness of being a teenager.
We'd go to the pub together, joke together and being a student meant I had all the time in the world to spend with him. He soon became part of my group of friends and if he didn't come out because he was spending time with my mum he was missed. He looked just like George Best, he was a big smiling lovable giant bloke who made everyone smile with his stories and was an incredibly talented artist.
In the week leading up to my 21st birthday he developed a fever. Not a big problem, he just didn't feel well enough to join us for the meal we'd planned to celebrate. He'd made the effort to join me for a drink earlier in the week though so atleast we'd done a bit of celebrating together. The doctor had been out to see him and thought it was probably just a urinary infection. Treatment given, would be right as rain in a week or so. The night after my birthday he took a turn for the worst. Despite the best efforts of the ambulance staff, and the doctors once he'd got to the hospital, they couldn't stop the bleeding that had occured due to a cyst that had ruptured on one of his kidneys. The cyst hadn't been picked up by the doctor that had visited and the symptons he was showing hadn't been noticed. He died that night.
Seriously folks. I know they can be cantankerous bastards at times, or they can seem a bit past it in the modern world. But if you are close to your dad at all, spend as much time as you can with him. It hurts every day when they're gone. (Same goes for either parent).
(Thu 25th Nov 2010, 14:35, More)
» * PFFT *
The 'Incident'.
About 3 years ago the missus and I decided to take the kids over to France for a holiday in the summer.
The night before we stopped over in Folkestone before heading off in the morning to use the chunnel in the car. A night of drinking commenced for me and the missus and I had decidedly dodgy guts in the morning. In what has since been known as the 'Incident' I decided to pinch out an SBD about half way to france. Words couldn't describe the stench. We all piled out of the car but, if you've ever used the chunnel' you'd know, you're trapped in a 3 car compartment with only tiny doorways between. The smell started to fill the train carriage and I swear that people in other cars were starting to turn green.
The stench permiated everything in the car. I was proud. We haven't spoken about it since. :)
(Fri 13th Jul 2007, 14:31, More)
The 'Incident'.
About 3 years ago the missus and I decided to take the kids over to France for a holiday in the summer.
The night before we stopped over in Folkestone before heading off in the morning to use the chunnel in the car. A night of drinking commenced for me and the missus and I had decidedly dodgy guts in the morning. In what has since been known as the 'Incident' I decided to pinch out an SBD about half way to france. Words couldn't describe the stench. We all piled out of the car but, if you've ever used the chunnel' you'd know, you're trapped in a 3 car compartment with only tiny doorways between. The smell started to fill the train carriage and I swear that people in other cars were starting to turn green.
The stench permiated everything in the car. I was proud. We haven't spoken about it since. :)
(Fri 13th Jul 2007, 14:31, More)