» Phobias

Fingers + Face = Fear, Paranoia and Freak-out
Anyone lightly poking my face so that they are barely touching it send me into a panic fit, the lighter they do it, the worse it is. I cant cope with it, it makes me unable to breathe and I feel like I'm gonna pass out. I stopped telling people when I realised that people are bastards, and they will do it to see the subsequent freakout and me batting at my face like a spakker angry with his own nose.
I thought i was alone in this strange condition, but when i went to Uni I found someone else with this weird streak in them. As a result we have spent many a strange afternoon sitting in front of one another lightly touching each others face at the same time to see who would 'break' first.
It truly is a game with no winners, just two very sad, demented looking losers....
(Thu 10th Apr 2008, 14:02, More)

» Buses

The Bus Bet
Me and my mate Dave were watching one of those compilation shows on TV where they show old feats of derring-doo, sword swallowing and the like, when one came on about insane bike jumps. It was of some fella jumping over 15 buses on his bike.
Dave turned to me and said "I bet you 50 quid that I could jump over 15 bikes with a bus."
"Pah! Ridiculous!" quoth I, then I thought fuck it, he'll never be arsed to try and do it, let alone succeed, "You're on!" I roared, saluted him, left and thought nothing more of it for a week.
The following saturday my mobile rang, it was Dave growling down the phone "Get your arse to the playing fields. Bring me my 50 quid" and hung up. I swiftly pocketed the cash and made my way to the playing fields where the first thing I saw was a massive ramp with a fucking big, red double decjer bus at the top. My eyes spanned down the ramp and spread in front of it in almost military fashion were 15 bikes, evenly spaced 3 feet apart.
I whistled in appreciation at the stationary spectacle in front of me as Dave approached. "Alright?" he said "It's all set up. I'm going up there to the bus now, when I come down I want that 50 quid, well, I need that 50 quid. This has cost me a fucking fortune and a shitload of favours to pull off. Gary in work sorted out all the relevant angles and speed bollocks, all I've gotta do is get the bus to at least 65 before going off the end of the ramp, keep it straight and I'm laughing. See you in bit."
I obliged and wished him luck, genuinely looking forward to seeing him sail over all those bikes on his borrowed bus.
He climbed aboard and started the engine, then finally pulled off and hurtled down this ramp going faster and faster before flying through the air and passing over the first few bikes whilse still arcing quite gracefully into the air.
He passed over 5...6...7
And kept going, 8...9...10
"Fuck me" I thought out loud, "He's going to do it!"
11...12, then suddenly...
*CRASH*
His bus had crashed down onto the thirteenth bike, so close to his goal. I ran over to the twisted metal wreckage and got there just as he flopped out of the cab.
"Mate what the fuck happened, you were going perfectly! Then you just fell from the air like a stone with cement shoes!"
"I know" he gasped, "Some cunt rang the fucking bell"



I'm so so sorry. (not)
(Thu 25th Jun 2009, 16:53, More)

» Best Graffiti Ever

On a toilet door..
Sitting on the bog in my students union having a dump, i noticed some writing at the bottom of the door, too small to make out from a regular sitting position. I leaned forward, still couldnt quite make it out. Leaning forward even more so my chest was on my knees I made out the tiny scribble:

"You are now shitting at a 90 degree angle"

Brilliant.
(Sat 5th May 2007, 13:31, More)

» The Worst Journey in the World

On me way to school...
In Austria when this cunt shoves me in his van and keeps me in his cellar for 8 years.
I was gutted as well, it was Tuesday, there was Sausage and Mash for lunch. Me mum wasnt happy either. She wanted to be the one to lock me up for years on end before killing herself. Still, live and learn.
(Tue 12th Sep 2006, 16:42, More)

» My most gullible moment

I was gullible enough to think my body liked me...
at least enough to trust it to know when and where to go to the toilet properly.
However, after a rather long and random 'drink n drug' (tm) binge last night I got into bed and drifted off to slumber. I awoke this morning to find a substantial amount of my own faeces on my bedroom floor (thankfully on a piece of paper). No idea what made me think dropping me kecks and curling one out on an essay I'd been writing was the right thing to do.
I no longer trust my body.
(Thu 21st Aug 2008, 23:27, More)