Profile for Balron:
photographer, cat, likes cheese, hates dancing/talent shows, done :-D
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
[read all their answers]
- a member for 22 years, 8 months and 12 days
- has posted 6 messages on the main board
- has posted 0 messages on the talk board
- has posted 0 messages on the links board
- has posted 14 stories and 4 replies on question of the week
- They liked 0 pictures, 0 links, 0 talk posts, and 3 qotw answers.
- Ignore this user
- Add this user as a friend
- send me a message
photographer, cat, likes cheese, hates dancing/talent shows, done :-D
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
» Workplace Boredom
Tis alive......
shake his hand, see what he does
(Thu 8th Jan 2009, 23:49, More)
Tis alive......
shake his hand, see what he does
(Thu 8th Jan 2009, 23:49, More)
» Petty Sabotage
Toothpaste on the eyelashes while your spanish victim is still asleep....
" I may not be able to see, but I can sill punch!"
(Wed 4th May 2005, 11:29, More)
Toothpaste on the eyelashes while your spanish victim is still asleep....
" I may not be able to see, but I can sill punch!"
(Wed 4th May 2005, 11:29, More)
» Petty Sabotage
A 12 volt battery
near the drain of the mens urinal......
guarentee someone will try this, just don't take a piss while your watching.
(Wed 4th May 2005, 11:26, More)
A 12 volt battery
near the drain of the mens urinal......
guarentee someone will try this, just don't take a piss while your watching.
(Wed 4th May 2005, 11:26, More)
» The Onosecond
God damn new mobile phones....................
I decided to be clever with my address book and put my girlfriend's home and mobile number under one name with the hope that it would make my life a small amount easier.
One nite out with my mates, I decided to do the boyfriend thing and give her a call, only to be greeted with a mans voice.
me "err, who's this?"
man "who's calling please?"
Me being the protective kind of person, and a few pints aside, come to the conclusion that my lady must have had her mobile stolen.
me "who the FUCK is this?"
man "excuse me, who is this?"
me "what the FUCK are you doing with this phone?"
man "erm, I'm going to call the police if you continue?"
Realising that something wasn't right, I pull the phone away from my ear and stare in disbelief at my girlfriends parents phone number on my phone display.
They never found out and the secret will die with me.
No appoligies for height or width, cubed.
(Tue 31st May 2005, 14:59, More)
God damn new mobile phones....................
I decided to be clever with my address book and put my girlfriend's home and mobile number under one name with the hope that it would make my life a small amount easier.
One nite out with my mates, I decided to do the boyfriend thing and give her a call, only to be greeted with a mans voice.
me "err, who's this?"
man "who's calling please?"
Me being the protective kind of person, and a few pints aside, come to the conclusion that my lady must have had her mobile stolen.
me "who the FUCK is this?"
man "excuse me, who is this?"
me "what the FUCK are you doing with this phone?"
man "erm, I'm going to call the police if you continue?"
Realising that something wasn't right, I pull the phone away from my ear and stare in disbelief at my girlfriends parents phone number on my phone display.
They never found out and the secret will die with me.
No appoligies for height or width, cubed.
(Tue 31st May 2005, 14:59, More)
» Out of my depth
My first year of high school, i decided that i wanted to play the saxophone.
I barely knew how to put the thing together, let alone play it. Every thursday, i used to lug around what felt like a 10kg box on a 1/2 hour walk to my school.The only real reason that i started playing was so i could avoid having to go the 2 hour religious education classes. After about a year of convincing my teacher and my family that i could play, i was unknowingly put forward for the school recital. My task was to play "London Bridge Is Falling Down", so for the next week i was panicing. I figured out that i could play the song by writing the notes down in sequence, E,G,D and so on. So recital night comes and i was told that i was going to be part of a duet. The relief poured through me, so we were called onto the stage and i was greeted by about 300 parents that had come to see the recital. I tenderly placed my piece of paper on the stand and started to play. The first few notes went well, until i noticed that the other person wasn't playing with me. She was just stood there, looking at me. I looked back at the paper and could no longer read my writing, the notes had somehow re-aranged them selves. My playing had reduced itself to a note a second, kind of like a tooting sound. I looked out into the audience and i could see people shrinking into their seats, cringing. Thats the last thing i remember until my music teacher revived me with smelling salts. The saxophone is now rotting under my bed.
(Thu 21st Oct 2004, 14:50, More)
My first year of high school, i decided that i wanted to play the saxophone.
I barely knew how to put the thing together, let alone play it. Every thursday, i used to lug around what felt like a 10kg box on a 1/2 hour walk to my school.The only real reason that i started playing was so i could avoid having to go the 2 hour religious education classes. After about a year of convincing my teacher and my family that i could play, i was unknowingly put forward for the school recital. My task was to play "London Bridge Is Falling Down", so for the next week i was panicing. I figured out that i could play the song by writing the notes down in sequence, E,G,D and so on. So recital night comes and i was told that i was going to be part of a duet. The relief poured through me, so we were called onto the stage and i was greeted by about 300 parents that had come to see the recital. I tenderly placed my piece of paper on the stand and started to play. The first few notes went well, until i noticed that the other person wasn't playing with me. She was just stood there, looking at me. I looked back at the paper and could no longer read my writing, the notes had somehow re-aranged them selves. My playing had reduced itself to a note a second, kind of like a tooting sound. I looked out into the audience and i could see people shrinking into their seats, cringing. Thats the last thing i remember until my music teacher revived me with smelling salts. The saxophone is now rotting under my bed.
(Thu 21st Oct 2004, 14:50, More)