Profile for Christian's Bolt and Ski:
Hello, here is where I expose myself to you.
20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29, fucking hell, I'm 30. museum technician/artist for hire be very afraid, I’m now well fucking old, artisan handyman. Like a soldier of fortune, with no fortune and shit at soldiering.
Mein namen in graffiti on a mountainside made by the delightful Fiend.
And I earned this because my moniker is a pun based on this chap.
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- a member for 15 years, 1 month and 26 days
- has posted 3747 messages on the main board
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- has posted 37 stories and 69 replies on question of the week
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Hello, here is where I expose myself to you.
Mein namen in graffiti on a mountainside made by the delightful Fiend.
And I earned this because my moniker is a pun based on this chap.
Recent front page messages:
Best answers to questions:
» B3ta Person of the Year 2010
I'd like to nominate Richard Herring
I noticed that Stewart Lee was nominated so who better to follow him than his better half. Sure, he might not be better in accolades or success, but given the chance here he might actually earn something. Perhaps a 3rd place award because naturally Assange is going to win and Brian Blessed a swift and deserving second (deserving only because Assange really deserves that top place at the podium).
So I ask you my fellow b3tards to award a man who's shows have gone from attempting to be involved in a threesome to the politically charged and brilliant Hitler Moustache - which I recommend you get unless you wish to wallow in that non-entertained seating position forever and not experienced the height of pleasure in this very entertained seating position I am in right now. He is a man who has said piss live on air on a once soon to be defunct digital radio station which was saved from the clutches of oblivion. He is a man who has started two semi-successful podcast shows which have sold out at the Edinburgh fringe to a bunch of really odd nerds. He is a man who has endured the nasal voiced talents of Andrew Collins and lived to make a set of amusing characters based upon him and his family.
Winner of the Gamesmaster Golden Joystick I would like to nominate Richard Herring and would hope you would at least cast a vote in his favour. Thank you.
(Sat 18th Dec 2010, 20:52, More)
I'd like to nominate Richard Herring
I noticed that Stewart Lee was nominated so who better to follow him than his better half. Sure, he might not be better in accolades or success, but given the chance here he might actually earn something. Perhaps a 3rd place award because naturally Assange is going to win and Brian Blessed a swift and deserving second (deserving only because Assange really deserves that top place at the podium).
So I ask you my fellow b3tards to award a man who's shows have gone from attempting to be involved in a threesome to the politically charged and brilliant Hitler Moustache - which I recommend you get unless you wish to wallow in that non-entertained seating position forever and not experienced the height of pleasure in this very entertained seating position I am in right now. He is a man who has said piss live on air on a once soon to be defunct digital radio station which was saved from the clutches of oblivion. He is a man who has started two semi-successful podcast shows which have sold out at the Edinburgh fringe to a bunch of really odd nerds. He is a man who has endured the nasal voiced talents of Andrew Collins and lived to make a set of amusing characters based upon him and his family.
Winner of the Gamesmaster Golden Joystick I would like to nominate Richard Herring and would hope you would at least cast a vote in his favour. Thank you.
(Sat 18th Dec 2010, 20:52, More)
» Trapped!
Awkward dinner.
Was once stuck in that awful situation where you enjoy a group dinner for the food immensely more than the company. And seeing as though this was a supreme and well cooked roast I was naturally ignoring conversation to the point of keeping my mouth full so I couldn't talk back. What I remember distinctly from this meal though was the gravy, it was magnificent. Some people think Bisto is enough and strangely in this instance it was. I probably took acid or something the hour before because it was astounding. Inevitably, beer was passed around, then wine, I was told later on that I was insanely drunk and upon trying to leave it was visibly obvious that I couldn't stand let alone move on my legs. It was rather concerning until I realised I was caught in a trap, I can't walk out, because I love you too much, gravy.
(Thu 6th Mar 2014, 17:58, More)
Awkward dinner.
Was once stuck in that awful situation where you enjoy a group dinner for the food immensely more than the company. And seeing as though this was a supreme and well cooked roast I was naturally ignoring conversation to the point of keeping my mouth full so I couldn't talk back. What I remember distinctly from this meal though was the gravy, it was magnificent. Some people think Bisto is enough and strangely in this instance it was. I probably took acid or something the hour before because it was astounding. Inevitably, beer was passed around, then wine, I was told later on that I was insanely drunk and upon trying to leave it was visibly obvious that I couldn't stand let alone move on my legs. It was rather concerning until I realised I was caught in a trap, I can't walk out, because I love you too much, gravy.
(Thu 6th Mar 2014, 17:58, More)
» It's Not What It Looks Like!
Most of my greatest mistakes are self driven. Or as a result of social anxiety.
Walking down a street in town I noticed a lady at an ATM drop her gloves. Clearly failing to pick them up she tried to unceremoniously crouch twixt cashpoint and the ground with her arm hovering, searching for them. She couldn't stay in that position for long of course, and wanting to be discreet she wasn't going to do it quickly either.
It was evident with no-one else watching I was left with the choice of to help or not. I'm not normally one to avoid helping someone, regardless of how much it stupidly puts myself out of the way. I have rushed to open doors for people I barely know and it's obvious I look like a twat. This time however, someone's credit card was involved. I've never been comfortable when someone else is using them.
Not wanting to be suspicious in perhaps the most conspicuous way possible (as well as looking like a man who's lost his invisible friend - who is also a fly) my eyes have to dart around anywhere but the console when a pin number is being keyed in at the check-out.
I genuinely feared if I did approach her to help I might be misinterpreted as a potential thief ready to grab and run - something I had seen happen in roundabout the same area. However, I understood this was probably me being highly paranoid, which would be something to confront in of itself but I wasn't going to disregard all these concerns easily. Walking as I was thinking, I felt tense - ill at ease with either solution.
Nevertheless back to the action and what seems to be a lengthy debate in my head has actually taken barely a few seconds. More of as a result of indecision continuing to walk past the problem was to be my solution. I was in the clear, leaving the lady to fend for herself and an experience I'd shake off by the next corner.
"Aw, that's Fuckry!" cried a voice from the side.
"You saw that woman drop her gloves but you din't help, that's fuckry, man!"
A young mother had seen me watching the lady in distress and clearly in disgust was now approaching the to help while I was left speechless and now feeling distinctly more awkward in this crowded area than before. Frustrated, I wanted to explain my own inner turmoil but I realised I had if by action and not by choice made perhaps the wrong decision anyway. And so I sheepishly left, daring not to look in anyone's face. Oh, the shame!
(Wed 15th Dec 2010, 3:06, More)
Most of my greatest mistakes are self driven. Or as a result of social anxiety.
Walking down a street in town I noticed a lady at an ATM drop her gloves. Clearly failing to pick them up she tried to unceremoniously crouch twixt cashpoint and the ground with her arm hovering, searching for them. She couldn't stay in that position for long of course, and wanting to be discreet she wasn't going to do it quickly either.
It was evident with no-one else watching I was left with the choice of to help or not. I'm not normally one to avoid helping someone, regardless of how much it stupidly puts myself out of the way. I have rushed to open doors for people I barely know and it's obvious I look like a twat. This time however, someone's credit card was involved. I've never been comfortable when someone else is using them.
Not wanting to be suspicious in perhaps the most conspicuous way possible (as well as looking like a man who's lost his invisible friend - who is also a fly) my eyes have to dart around anywhere but the console when a pin number is being keyed in at the check-out.
I genuinely feared if I did approach her to help I might be misinterpreted as a potential thief ready to grab and run - something I had seen happen in roundabout the same area. However, I understood this was probably me being highly paranoid, which would be something to confront in of itself but I wasn't going to disregard all these concerns easily. Walking as I was thinking, I felt tense - ill at ease with either solution.
Nevertheless back to the action and what seems to be a lengthy debate in my head has actually taken barely a few seconds. More of as a result of indecision continuing to walk past the problem was to be my solution. I was in the clear, leaving the lady to fend for herself and an experience I'd shake off by the next corner.
"Aw, that's Fuckry!" cried a voice from the side.
"You saw that woman drop her gloves but you din't help, that's fuckry, man!"
A young mother had seen me watching the lady in distress and clearly in disgust was now approaching the to help while I was left speechless and now feeling distinctly more awkward in this crowded area than before. Frustrated, I wanted to explain my own inner turmoil but I realised I had if by action and not by choice made perhaps the wrong decision anyway. And so I sheepishly left, daring not to look in anyone's face. Oh, the shame!
(Wed 15th Dec 2010, 3:06, More)
» Easiest Job Ever
I recently stopped my twice weekly stint as a Charity shop cashier.
The staff were the most friendly, laid back folk I've ever come across - in employment - but even so I wasn't getting paid for it so I don't suppose a bollocking would have come near if I was worse than I already was.
In my defence stock changed regularly, as it would given it came from almost daily donations, so therefore I had a perfectly adequate reason for why I had no idea what prices things were or even where they were (except for the usual - books, videos and DVDs and the like were either priced or had a standard one and were stocked in easy to reach places). Being at the helm though offered further dilemmas such as dealing with customers. There were a couple I really liked talking to, an elderly gent who would constantly deny that what he was buying was worth the price and so would drag his heels no matter how cheap.
Me(after totting it up): That's altogether £4 then.
Him: Are you sure?
Me: Yes, it's just over half your pension.
However this would be in good fun and he would rib me back about the youth of today having no knowledge whilst insisting it would have to be at least two pounds less. I would say inquire if he meant in old money.
There were rumours of more stressful types, though I never met any. Having said that there were plenty of particularly eyebrow raising customers.
One that comes to mind was a slightly short bald and skinny gentleman wearing a tattered camouflage jacket who once asked me to save a book for him whilst he scanned around the shop some more. The book he chose was on plants, so immediately my mind spun that he was probably an inhaler of some kind of weed. But then I shunned that idea as judgemental and to be honest rather unkind. Yet I couldn't shake off the idea he did seem a bit strange. Nevertheless after casually sauntering up to the counter he paid for his purchases in full so no harm was done. Then he asked me a question.
Him: You don't do DVDs by any chance do you?
Me: Yeah we do, 50p each.
Him: Yeah, do you have any adult DVDs?*
I couldn't look him in the eyes and as I stifled a laugh I quietly said no.
I never saw the man again.
In hindsight I suppose in a strange way I admire his confidence. Having said that I'm not a eunuch myself but given the stock options already visible I wouldn't have tried to get my fill from a place that was liable to have donations already left sticky and did.
Good job though. Well volunteer job.
*For those in expectation of such goods in charity shops, in the one I worked in those round the back receiving donations would either throw either raunchy, or stuff visually depicting rather ultra violent stuff away or hide it. A book on the Kama Sutra lay with dust gathering on the cover.
(Thu 9th Sep 2010, 17:24, More)
I recently stopped my twice weekly stint as a Charity shop cashier.
The staff were the most friendly, laid back folk I've ever come across - in employment - but even so I wasn't getting paid for it so I don't suppose a bollocking would have come near if I was worse than I already was.
In my defence stock changed regularly, as it would given it came from almost daily donations, so therefore I had a perfectly adequate reason for why I had no idea what prices things were or even where they were (except for the usual - books, videos and DVDs and the like were either priced or had a standard one and were stocked in easy to reach places). Being at the helm though offered further dilemmas such as dealing with customers. There were a couple I really liked talking to, an elderly gent who would constantly deny that what he was buying was worth the price and so would drag his heels no matter how cheap.
Me(after totting it up): That's altogether £4 then.
Him: Are you sure?
Me: Yes, it's just over half your pension.
However this would be in good fun and he would rib me back about the youth of today having no knowledge whilst insisting it would have to be at least two pounds less. I would say inquire if he meant in old money.
There were rumours of more stressful types, though I never met any. Having said that there were plenty of particularly eyebrow raising customers.
One that comes to mind was a slightly short bald and skinny gentleman wearing a tattered camouflage jacket who once asked me to save a book for him whilst he scanned around the shop some more. The book he chose was on plants, so immediately my mind spun that he was probably an inhaler of some kind of weed. But then I shunned that idea as judgemental and to be honest rather unkind. Yet I couldn't shake off the idea he did seem a bit strange. Nevertheless after casually sauntering up to the counter he paid for his purchases in full so no harm was done. Then he asked me a question.
Him: You don't do DVDs by any chance do you?
Me: Yeah we do, 50p each.
Him: Yeah, do you have any adult DVDs?*
I couldn't look him in the eyes and as I stifled a laugh I quietly said no.
I never saw the man again.
In hindsight I suppose in a strange way I admire his confidence. Having said that I'm not a eunuch myself but given the stock options already visible I wouldn't have tried to get my fill from a place that was liable to have donations already left sticky and did.
Good job though. Well volunteer job.
*For those in expectation of such goods in charity shops, in the one I worked in those round the back receiving donations would either throw either raunchy, or stuff visually depicting rather ultra violent stuff away or hide it. A book on the Kama Sutra lay with dust gathering on the cover.
(Thu 9th Sep 2010, 17:24, More)
» Kids say the shittiest things
I was foul-mouthed as a toddler.
At a gentle soiree only the finest in my neighbourhood were quietly partying with their youngsters in tow.
"BASTARD! BASTARD! BASTARD!" I yelled.
Whatever words my mortified mum may have given me didn't seem to have worked as apparently after getting cut off at a busy intersection, my dad nobly keeping his cool and my mum visibly shocked but still not uttering the gutter tongue, I emitted a mild cry from the back.
"What the fuck was that!?"
(Sat 25th May 2013, 2:12, More)
I was foul-mouthed as a toddler.
At a gentle soiree only the finest in my neighbourhood were quietly partying with their youngsters in tow.
"BASTARD! BASTARD! BASTARD!" I yelled.
Whatever words my mortified mum may have given me didn't seem to have worked as apparently after getting cut off at a busy intersection, my dad nobly keeping his cool and my mum visibly shocked but still not uttering the gutter tongue, I emitted a mild cry from the back.
"What the fuck was that!?"
(Sat 25th May 2013, 2:12, More)