Profile for Pat Shatner:
Hello there.
I am a 22 year old manchild, I listen to disco and I have Neil Buchanan's (Art Attack!) autograph.
Due to an incident from my rebellious teenage years I am banned from every Morrisons supermarket for life. I have since returned to numerous premises across the country and have yet to see my face on a wanted poster outside.
My mum once forced me into taking a photograph of Roy Hattersley at a book fair when I was a lad. The reasons behind this still remain a mystery to me.
I have had a spring roll with a safety pin through it on top of my t.v. for almost two years now. When questioned about it I reply, "It's punk, man!" This is generally the kind of thing that amuses me.
That'll do for now.
I made this...
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- a member for 14 years, 9 months and 16 days
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Hello there.
I am a 22 year old manchild, I listen to disco and I have Neil Buchanan's (Art Attack!) autograph.
Due to an incident from my rebellious teenage years I am banned from every Morrisons supermarket for life. I have since returned to numerous premises across the country and have yet to see my face on a wanted poster outside.
My mum once forced me into taking a photograph of Roy Hattersley at a book fair when I was a lad. The reasons behind this still remain a mystery to me.
I have had a spring roll with a safety pin through it on top of my t.v. for almost two years now. When questioned about it I reply, "It's punk, man!" This is generally the kind of thing that amuses me.
That'll do for now.
I made this...
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
» Doctors, Nurses, Dentists and Hospitals
Victorian Sex Toys
Many moons ago I had to have a few cumbersome fangs removed. A compulsory procedure due to 'overcrowding' or some such dentist propaganda.
I settled into the big slippery doom throne and had my fist few pegs ripped out with Herculean ease. Then it all went a bit tits. Having tried just about every masher, gouger and skewer available, my dentist at the time disappeared into the back room only to reappear clutching a rusted old biscuit tin. Fo' real.
It seemed that the final tooth was what is known in the trade as a 'right cunt.' Anyway, this tin was home to all manner of horrible fucking devices, mostly resembling painful Victorian sex toys. After some rummaging she produced what I can only describe as a hand drill (google it). Now, the hand drill is a fine tool for a craftmans workshop but it does not inspire confidence when in the theatre of dentistry.
By this point I was feverishly trying to disappear into my happy place as the dentist savaged my mouth with barely contained glee. Within a few minutes however the tooth was free and readers, it was a beast. The root of the thing had a nasty twist and came to a perfect sharp point. The other dentist folk crowded round, if only for a glimpse of this magic object.
Afterwards I ambled down the rood with phantom facial palsy, beaming with the knowledge that I had produced the most badass tooth in the history of mankind. It felt like my mouth had given birth to Chuck Norris' boots.
For weeks following I would get the thing out at every available opportunity, regaling my subjects with the whole sordid story over and over again. I've never had any real fears over going to the dentists but now that I think back I haven't been since, oh dear.
(Mon 15th Mar 2010, 11:39, More)
Victorian Sex Toys
Many moons ago I had to have a few cumbersome fangs removed. A compulsory procedure due to 'overcrowding' or some such dentist propaganda.
I settled into the big slippery doom throne and had my fist few pegs ripped out with Herculean ease. Then it all went a bit tits. Having tried just about every masher, gouger and skewer available, my dentist at the time disappeared into the back room only to reappear clutching a rusted old biscuit tin. Fo' real.
It seemed that the final tooth was what is known in the trade as a 'right cunt.' Anyway, this tin was home to all manner of horrible fucking devices, mostly resembling painful Victorian sex toys. After some rummaging she produced what I can only describe as a hand drill (google it). Now, the hand drill is a fine tool for a craftmans workshop but it does not inspire confidence when in the theatre of dentistry.
By this point I was feverishly trying to disappear into my happy place as the dentist savaged my mouth with barely contained glee. Within a few minutes however the tooth was free and readers, it was a beast. The root of the thing had a nasty twist and came to a perfect sharp point. The other dentist folk crowded round, if only for a glimpse of this magic object.
Afterwards I ambled down the rood with phantom facial palsy, beaming with the knowledge that I had produced the most badass tooth in the history of mankind. It felt like my mouth had given birth to Chuck Norris' boots.
For weeks following I would get the thing out at every available opportunity, regaling my subjects with the whole sordid story over and over again. I've never had any real fears over going to the dentists but now that I think back I haven't been since, oh dear.
(Mon 15th Mar 2010, 11:39, More)
» Cars
Insane Grandad Behind The Wheel
A few years back my friend Iain and I were flogging t-shirts up at the Skye music festival. Iain's grandad is a wealthy old bugger and has a couple of houses there so he invited us out for a few drinks one afternoon and then lunch at his abode.
After a few drinks at an outrageously posh manor/club/bar (complete with French barman) we stumbled out to the car suitably bleary. Iain had previously warned me about his grandad's driving, having totaled a car in the last year on Skye's snaking country roads.
Despite having daft money his grandad drove a tiny Japanese car, like a wee Hot Wheels thing for pensioners. It's worth pointing out at this stage as well that Iain's papa is profoundly deaf, in his early 80's and prone to falling asleep whenever he gets seated comfortably.
Anyway, we were bundled in the back of the silly mobile and off we went. It was a couple of minutes into the journey that I realised that Iain's auld paw was a speed demon, proper. As the speedo steadily escalated up to 80 and beyond Iain kept throwing me little glances as if to say, "What is he like, he's some turn!"
I remember he peaked at 115 mph, took his hands off the wheel and started raking about in the glove box for sunglasses. The car started drifting into the middle of the road and casual as you like the old bugger put his shades on and pulled back into the lane as if he was some Hollywood badass.
Needless to say that if Iain and I weren't half cut we would have easily filled that tiny motor up to the sunroof with shite.
(Thu 22nd Apr 2010, 14:50, More)
Insane Grandad Behind The Wheel
A few years back my friend Iain and I were flogging t-shirts up at the Skye music festival. Iain's grandad is a wealthy old bugger and has a couple of houses there so he invited us out for a few drinks one afternoon and then lunch at his abode.
After a few drinks at an outrageously posh manor/club/bar (complete with French barman) we stumbled out to the car suitably bleary. Iain had previously warned me about his grandad's driving, having totaled a car in the last year on Skye's snaking country roads.
Despite having daft money his grandad drove a tiny Japanese car, like a wee Hot Wheels thing for pensioners. It's worth pointing out at this stage as well that Iain's papa is profoundly deaf, in his early 80's and prone to falling asleep whenever he gets seated comfortably.
Anyway, we were bundled in the back of the silly mobile and off we went. It was a couple of minutes into the journey that I realised that Iain's auld paw was a speed demon, proper. As the speedo steadily escalated up to 80 and beyond Iain kept throwing me little glances as if to say, "What is he like, he's some turn!"
I remember he peaked at 115 mph, took his hands off the wheel and started raking about in the glove box for sunglasses. The car started drifting into the middle of the road and casual as you like the old bugger put his shades on and pulled back into the lane as if he was some Hollywood badass.
Needless to say that if Iain and I weren't half cut we would have easily filled that tiny motor up to the sunroof with shite.
(Thu 22nd Apr 2010, 14:50, More)
» Expensive Weekends
Wine and Seaweed
I went to the north of Scotland for a daft bender with a friend of mine a while back. Getting there cost us almost nothing because we locked ourselves in the toilet for the entire train journey and the accommodation there was dirt cheap cos we stayed in tatty bikers motel.
However, we did fritter away a bloody fortune on a complete load of nonsense over the weekend. We spent most of the time wandering around small villages raving drunk talking bollocks to farmers and finding pubs with jukeboxes so that we could play 'You Love Us' over and over again.
My fondest memory though was our day sat at the beach where I had a full birthday cake for dinner in the pissing rain.
It might not sound much but we were young and thought we were loaded, so loaded in fact that we had to hitchhike home from Inverness smelling like wine and seaweed.
(Wed 19th May 2010, 16:48, More)
Wine and Seaweed
I went to the north of Scotland for a daft bender with a friend of mine a while back. Getting there cost us almost nothing because we locked ourselves in the toilet for the entire train journey and the accommodation there was dirt cheap cos we stayed in tatty bikers motel.
However, we did fritter away a bloody fortune on a complete load of nonsense over the weekend. We spent most of the time wandering around small villages raving drunk talking bollocks to farmers and finding pubs with jukeboxes so that we could play 'You Love Us' over and over again.
My fondest memory though was our day sat at the beach where I had a full birthday cake for dinner in the pissing rain.
It might not sound much but we were young and thought we were loaded, so loaded in fact that we had to hitchhike home from Inverness smelling like wine and seaweed.
(Wed 19th May 2010, 16:48, More)
» Cars
Angry Dad and the Tension Mobile
I once had to endure a car journey from Stirling to Perth with my pal's dad who was quietly furious for the entire ride (I have no idea why). He was playing a Steve Miller Band greatest hits cd, in attempt to chill himself out I assume. Whenever I hear Abracadabra I get flashbacks of his knuckles, bone white with the pressure of his grip on the wheel, and his eyes popping out of his head like angry gobstoppers.
It's not a thrilling story but it raises a smile now when I remember it.
(Thu 22nd Apr 2010, 17:00, More)
Angry Dad and the Tension Mobile
I once had to endure a car journey from Stirling to Perth with my pal's dad who was quietly furious for the entire ride (I have no idea why). He was playing a Steve Miller Band greatest hits cd, in attempt to chill himself out I assume. Whenever I hear Abracadabra I get flashbacks of his knuckles, bone white with the pressure of his grip on the wheel, and his eyes popping out of his head like angry gobstoppers.
It's not a thrilling story but it raises a smile now when I remember it.
(Thu 22nd Apr 2010, 17:00, More)
» Best and worst TV ads
Anyone Remember...
A Tennents ad from around the start of the decade (I think) that featured a Scottish themed bar in Bangkok, run by Thais.
From what I remember it was bloody hilarious. There were ladyboy barmaids called Rab and Rory and a guy at the end urging the viewer to, "Take a dlink big man!"
Immense :D
I'd love to see it again but cant find it anywhere on the webnetz. I wouldn't be that surprise if it has been banned.
(Wed 21st Apr 2010, 12:27, More)
Anyone Remember...
A Tennents ad from around the start of the decade (I think) that featured a Scottish themed bar in Bangkok, run by Thais.
From what I remember it was bloody hilarious. There were ladyboy barmaids called Rab and Rory and a guy at the end urging the viewer to, "Take a dlink big man!"
Immense :D
I'd love to see it again but cant find it anywhere on the webnetz. I wouldn't be that surprise if it has been banned.
(Wed 21st Apr 2010, 12:27, More)