» Too much information

My family is obsessed with cats.
So when my cat ran away it was only custom for us to get a kitten to replace him. We went to pick up Maxine, the newest edition to the family, on a friday. Being in my young age of 12 I was extremely ecstatic when we got her and by the time we got home I wanted to stay up all night with her and play, but my parents disagreed. So I went to bed, awaiting the hours of play time I could have the next morning. I got up and ran around the house looking for her...she wasn't to be found! So I went into my parents room and they were awake...My father was rubbing around the lower end of my mothers abdomen...I asked where the kitten was..."She's under the covers, I'm petting her" Said my dear old dad...Much to my suprise she came galloping up to my foot as those words left his mouth...yes I'm sure you are petting the kitten....AGH!! TMI Dad...TMI!!
(Fri 7th Sep 2007, 2:12, More)

» Nights Out Gone Wrong

Why I am never the designated driver.
Usually my best mate is the DD as she doesn't drink much so I'd always have a ride home. Except for one night when I got a grand idea in my head to not drink when we went to the bar so that she could have a few. It started with a shooter, something fruity I assume. And another fruity drink. In walks her current shag, they're not together, though she wants to be, he doesn't. So she's chatting at him and hanging all over him as he gently nudges her off. They start taking shots of Grand Marnier, it only goes downhill from here.

In walks a girl that's always been a little more than friendly with her shag. I groan a bit as she walks up to him and hugs him, my mate orders another round, girl disappears. By this time mate needs to use the facilities. I escort her slighty drunken self to the bathroom and walk in on girl loudly proclaiming she's going home with shag tonight. Mate is not too happy. More shots are ordered, along with angry shouts at shag, who promptly leaves.
Mate orders another shot and drink and is by this time speaking a bit incoherently. I've never seen her like this. She tries to wander to the bathroom by herself and manages to fall flat on her face. She's helped up and she does her business and falls out of the bathroom door. This is no bueno.
So she makes it out to the bar finally and is told she's been cut off and it's best if we leave. After a few minutes of calming down, we soon realise her legs aren't working at all now. With the help of the bartenders husband I am able to get her out to the car through the back of the bar, then into my car, when she spots shag outside smoking. "I HATE YOU AND EVERYTHING YOU STAND FOR," is shouted from my car.
Best to get on the way then.

I jump in the drivers seat and we get on our way. Make it about a block before she decides she needs to puke. So she paints someones driveway and we are off again. A few miles down a country highway, she needs to puke again. Hindsight is usually 20-20, and where as I've never had this problem, I didn't quite expect it. I pull over as best I can, she opens the door and pukes a little. Opens the door further, then rolls the fuck out and into a pukey ditch. Yay.
I clean her up with an old sweater, hoist her in, leave sweater behind. Carry on down the road a bit, she needs to stop again. This time I make sure it's no where near a fucking ditch.
So she opens the door and does a repeat, except this time she narrowly misses cracking her face open on a curb. She's holding the door in one hand, holding herself up off the ground with the other, I'm watching her as a distinct smell begins to float through my car. Is...is that piss? Great.
I get her back into the car, we finally get to her grandmothers house, once again she's hanging out of the car barfing in a driveway and I notice another not so lovely smell. I manage to get her out and inside to the bathroom where instead of shoving her head in the toilet, she rips her shitty pants down and sits on it.
I borrow a bucket to clean off my car as her grandmother is in the background screaming "This is ridiculous!" I clean as much as I can off the inside and outside of the door.
I get into the driver's side and notice...is that? No. It can't be.
She's shit on my passenger seat. Awesome.

So as I'm at the carwash at 3a.m. scrubbing the shit and piss out of my passenger seat I decide that never again will I ever be the designated driver.
(Thu 24th Mar 2011, 18:40, More)

» Too much information

I like to shock people
So I tell my friends in extreme detail about my sexual experiences...I even told my mother when I lost my virginity just to see what she'd say. My cousin is pregnant with her second child and we were joking about it (she has my same sick humor). My mother was gagging as I was recalling the delivery room doctor pulling out her placenta and me ducking as it swung around like a lasso. He plopped it into a metal container and proclaimed it to be healthy while poking, prodding and squishing it ever so violently. *squirt* Then we moved onto the topic of sexual terms. London bridge anyone? Yes that would be when there are 2 fellas occupying both bum and front bum of a lady, my cousin shared how her boyfriend participated in one at a party. I went on to inform them as to what the spiderman is...you know guy cum in his hand then throws it into sexual partners face and yells "GO, WEB GO!!" My mother didn't really enjoy that one. oh well...GO, WEB GO!!
(Thu 6th Sep 2007, 20:26, More)

» Lies Your Parents Told You

whenever I behaved like the horrible child I was
My mom or Aunt would pick up the phone and start dialing. Conversation:
"Hello, Mrs. Claus, this is blankety blank. I have my daughter/neice, blank, here and she is misbehaving so, tell Mr. Claus there is no need to visit her this year. Thank You!! Bye-bye now."

OH how the tears poured.

If I were lucky she would call the police, I would run into the bathroom, lock the door and lie in the tub for hours waiting to be taken away by the long arm of the law. Oh how they laugh about it now.

I don't.
(Wed 14th Jan 2004, 20:09, More)

» The Police II

They ask questions when you get arrested.
Like "Do you have any aliases?"
Do. Not. Laugh.

They control when you're allowed to use the bathroom.
(Thu 5th May 2011, 19:12, More)