Cringe!
Chickenlady winces, "I told a Hugh Grant/Divine Brown joke to my dad, pretending that Ms Brown was chewing gum so she'd be more American. Instead I just appeared to be still giving the blow-job. Even as I'm writing this I'm cringing inside."
Tell us your cringeworthy stories of embarrassment. Go on, you're amongst friends here...
( , Thu 27 Nov 2008, 18:58)
Chickenlady winces, "I told a Hugh Grant/Divine Brown joke to my dad, pretending that Ms Brown was chewing gum so she'd be more American. Instead I just appeared to be still giving the blow-job. Even as I'm writing this I'm cringing inside."
Tell us your cringeworthy stories of embarrassment. Go on, you're amongst friends here...
( , Thu 27 Nov 2008, 18:58)
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The Screaming
Several years back, Ms. Witch-Finder General lived in a large apartment just off Tottenham Court Road. It was ex local authority housing and the lucky lady was paying only 25 quid a week to live in luxury with all of Central London at her doorstep. Needless to say we lived it large, rolling in in the not so small hours 5 days a week when she wasn't away.
However, just downstairs from her lived The Screamers.
I had never met the couple, but my missus regularly baby-sat for their 12-year old, which will give you a vague idea of their age. However, I had heard them. Regularly.
Every Friday and Saturday evening when we were getting ready to go out, like clockwork The Screaming would start, unmistakably the sound of vigorous coitus drifting up from the open window below. For an older gentleman, he certainly had a fair bit of stamina and she was very vocal in her support. Occasionally , we would compete with them, trying to shag for longer than they did, and would celebrate with a cheer when we 'won.' This later became more creative with us trying to match their often fairly 'lively' bedtalk with more unlikely and imaginative interjections of our own "Grease up the dwarf'" was a good'un as was "Use the whole fist! Now!"
------wavy lines to indicate the passing of time----------
A few years later I was living with the missus in North London and working in a film studio quite a way out of town. One week, I was temporarily without a car, so the young lad we had as a runner / work experience / general shit-monkey kindly offered to run me back to Central London on the Friday night. Being the amiable soul that I am, I suggested I buy him a couple of pints for his trouble, so it that was why I found myself droppping into his flat where he still lived with his Mum and Dad for a cup of tea and a chat.
Just off Tottenham Court Road.
In the flat below my girlfriends old flat.
And trying to make polite conversation with a woman who I had once shouted "Keep sucking the Donkeys Cock!" at.
( , Wed 3 Dec 2008, 13:51, 3 replies)
Several years back, Ms. Witch-Finder General lived in a large apartment just off Tottenham Court Road. It was ex local authority housing and the lucky lady was paying only 25 quid a week to live in luxury with all of Central London at her doorstep. Needless to say we lived it large, rolling in in the not so small hours 5 days a week when she wasn't away.
However, just downstairs from her lived The Screamers.
I had never met the couple, but my missus regularly baby-sat for their 12-year old, which will give you a vague idea of their age. However, I had heard them. Regularly.
Every Friday and Saturday evening when we were getting ready to go out, like clockwork The Screaming would start, unmistakably the sound of vigorous coitus drifting up from the open window below. For an older gentleman, he certainly had a fair bit of stamina and she was very vocal in her support. Occasionally , we would compete with them, trying to shag for longer than they did, and would celebrate with a cheer when we 'won.' This later became more creative with us trying to match their often fairly 'lively' bedtalk with more unlikely and imaginative interjections of our own "Grease up the dwarf'" was a good'un as was "Use the whole fist! Now!"
------wavy lines to indicate the passing of time----------
A few years later I was living with the missus in North London and working in a film studio quite a way out of town. One week, I was temporarily without a car, so the young lad we had as a runner / work experience / general shit-monkey kindly offered to run me back to Central London on the Friday night. Being the amiable soul that I am, I suggested I buy him a couple of pints for his trouble, so it that was why I found myself droppping into his flat where he still lived with his Mum and Dad for a cup of tea and a chat.
Just off Tottenham Court Road.
In the flat below my girlfriends old flat.
And trying to make polite conversation with a woman who I had once shouted "Keep sucking the Donkeys Cock!" at.
( , Wed 3 Dec 2008, 13:51, 3 replies)
Me too
I asked my Israelite Jewish driving teacher if he was German (I have difficulty pinpointing accents). The look he gave me was full of hatred. I soon got another driving teacher.
( , Thu 4 Dec 2008, 1:19, closed)
I asked my Israelite Jewish driving teacher if he was German (I have difficulty pinpointing accents). The look he gave me was full of hatred. I soon got another driving teacher.
( , Thu 4 Dec 2008, 1:19, closed)
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