» Cougars and Sugar Daddies

I have another story
My friends and I all seem to fall into this awful ability to do stupid things when we've had a little bit of the drink in us. One night we were out clubbing and having a great time, and our mate, Lee, starts pulling what looked to be a really hot girl in the smokey, dim light of the club.

It turned out to be a really hot girl and said hot girl took our teenage mate back to her flat for a night of, what was described to me as, a night of education that has stood him well for the rest of his life.

Our Lee is a bit of a womaniser, y'see and basically fucks anything that moves, so when he says it's good then you know it was good. However, he was strangely quiet about the next day.

It turns out he woke up the next day and walked through to the kitchen. He sat down at the table for breakfast that she'd made for him. It was at this point that her two kids came running in for breakfast with "her good friend that had stayed over the night because he couldn't get home".

She was 30.

He was 17.

The awkward silence of the breakfast table was only punctuated by the regular clockwork crunching of buttered toast. Now, not only has he pulled someone almost twice his age, but he also did it in a club a year underage. To what turned out to be, he found out when she was putting on her clothes after breakfast, a policewoman.
(Sun 7th Dec 2008, 1:22, More)

» Mistaken Identity

I'm the government
I was in town last night, out on the razz with a couple friends, wearing my natty black suit with a rather natty red tie. The night was wearing on and the drink was drunk at various pubs and clubs across the town. We decided to continue the party at a pub further on, about a good ten minutes stomping and stumbling down the rain-soaked grey of Union Street in Aberdeen.

Some bleached blonde guy walks past me, spins round on his feet (rather groggily) and shouts at me to come over to him. I do. This, I later learned, was what is known as a Bad Idea.
"Oi, what are you going to do about the Polish" He cried in a somewhat slurred and needlessly aggressive manner. Completely non-plussed by this I said "I dunno". So he asked me again and I replied the same. this continued several times before he attempted to lamp me in the face.

Fortunately, I had chosen the exact moment he tried to whack me as the time to walk away from him. Too inebriated to chase me he hollered to me:
"Oh, run away then, just because you're in the government, In your funcy suit, thinking your running the fucking country the way you want."
I told shouted to him that I wasn't in the government but he didn't believe me. "Shut the fuck up and stop stealing all our jobs and givvin them to the fucking Polish. Stop taking our houses and giving them to the Polish. Y'see you, you're dead fucking meat. What are we going to do when you've stolen all our jobs?"

So, there you go, I'm a government worker stealing Jobs from what I can only presume to be good, hardworking xenophobes and giving them to all the Polish simply by dint of the fact that I wore a suit.
(Mon 4th Jun 2007, 23:27, More)

» Gyms

Gym Will Fix It
This QOTW has stirred in my cluttered memory a fantastic story. Gyms are where people go to get trim, get fit, and hopefully use their improved self-image to score with someone they think is out of their league. I don't go to the gym but my friend did for a short while. I did not find out until much, much later why he stopped going to the gym. It wasn't laziness and it wasn't for lack of will. It was a good old British dose of crippling social anxiety.

Like all good stories this concerns sex. My friend was still quite young and a strapping lad in his mid to late teens. Unlike everyone else we knew, who had had sex or were unabashedly lying to make it look like they had been having what everyone else said they'd been having, he was an unashamed virgin. This guy is quite attractive, girls swoon over him, but he has a slight awkwardness about him that means he always fucks it up. So he decided to go to the gym to boost his self-image and get rid of the beginnings of booze-flab.

For several months he simply trotted off to the gym and began getting that odd holier-than-thou complexion that comes from going to the gym obsessively. You know, the types that keep badgering you to go to the gym because "oh my gosh how could I have survived before the gym!?". It was fair to say his confidence was rising. The rising in confidence brought into his mind that he could do with a job. Become a Man's man.

After the interview for this job, still suited and booted, he went back to the gym, where his smart self obviously stirred the loins of the lonely receptionist there. She flirted outrageously with him because there's nothing like a suit to make you look rich and together, which his leather jacket and holey Rolling Stones t-shirts he normally wore didn't do. But I digress. He cons his way into a date with this beauty and instantly runs into a problem: he has nowhere to take her home to. No lush bachelor's pad. No penthouse suite. Only a house 20 miles out of town. With his parents in.

Not one to give up a deception without exhausting all options, he charmed the keys of his dad's friend's friend, who happened to housesit an inner city mansion, filled with exotic carpets and said friend's exotic herbs. So he ends up starkers in a stranger's bedroom with a woman he hardly knows, who taking the initiative has been asking for some decidedly off-colour fun.

Not wanting to look like he doesn't know what he's doing (because he's a super-rich successful businessman with an inner-city mansion and housekeep) he awkwardly thrusts and pouts and grunts, throwing around his wobbly man-member to try and please this woman. The only research he's had for this has been internet porn so the results when coupled with the woman's darling abundance of alacrity resulted in some phenomenally awkward sex. He was so embarassed that he kicked her out afterwards and slept on the floor in front of the bed he had just christened with his own fluids.

He told me this story when I was on said bed and also pointed out every piece of free-standing furniture he had athletically had sex on, which included a radiator, sink, and mini-bar. I was also told not to use any of the toothbrushes or to even think about touching the food in the bar. When pressed for an answer why, he clams up and starts nervously reaching for his arse.
(Wed 15th Jul 2009, 17:58, More)

» Social Networking Gaffes

Friends' Messages
My father added me to Bebo, because in his doddery old age he likes to think that he can do things with computers. Being sympathetic to an old man's last unfettered struggles with the problems of retaining his youth, I added him.

A few weeks pass and I'm having a jolly fun time, working hard and all that lark and arrange to go out with a few of my friends to a party. The night before the party I get several messages as follows:

"Hey, you want to come round early to mine tomorrow before the party? I have a few joints and some pills so we can have a laugh and a couple drinks. Up for it? xxx"

"Hahahahaha, another party? Aye I'm up for it? Are ye gonna pump some bird in a cupboard at a party again, aye?"

I go to the party and a wonderful time is had by all and sundry.

The next day I sign onto Bebo and read:

"John_Anon_Prince's Dad is very disappointed in his son, who should probably consider taking a trip to see his old man back in his hometown to explain himself."

Length? About 200 miles of dread and shame on a shitty megabus.
(Sun 14th Sep 2008, 13:37, More)

» Best Graffiti Ever

Bus graffiti
On one seat on the bus was written the following:
"I'm so emo I shit eyeliner"

On the seat behind it was written:
"I'm so emo I write deprecating comments about myself"
(Tue 8th May 2007, 14:48, More)