Profile for grey kid:
Reference section - the originals:
"that's a neato what now right"
"here is a picture of in the harsh mountains"
"RIS?"
Recent front page messages:
Best answers to questions:
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- a member for 19 years, 6 months and 5 days
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- has posted 86 messages on the talk board
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- has posted 41 stories and 2 replies on question of the week
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Reference section - the originals:
"that's a neato what now right"
"here is a picture of in the harsh mountains"
"RIS?"
Recent front page messages:
Oh, that NAUGHTY boy! :O
Edit: Lucky she won, then! Congrats blondie! ;)
(Fri 27th Jan 2006, 22:42, More)
Edit: Lucky she won, then! Congrats blondie! ;)
(Fri 27th Jan 2006, 22:42, More)
Best answers to questions:
» Panic Buying
Two years ago, my dad called to say he and my mum were 'popping round'
as she really wated to see me on her birthday and I "hadn't bothered" to call in at theirs. In truth, I'd just totally forgotten. It was 8pm on a Sunday. They'd be here in half an hour. Fuck fuckety fuckfuck.
I jumped in the car and flew down to the all night garage to get her some flowers, the only thing I could think of. Twatcakes! They didn't have any! Panicking - T minus 15 minutes - I bought her a watering can and a DVD documentary about water voles. Sped home. Stopped half way. Looked at my folorn gifts. Realised there was no way I could pass these off as anything other than a last-minute garage trip. Looked out of the window in despair. Saw...
...a load of bunches of flowers tied to the railings where some kid had got knocked down a month or so earlier.
I am ACTUALLY going to hell. My mum quite liked her three presents though.
(Sat 24th Dec 2005, 11:59, More)
Two years ago, my dad called to say he and my mum were 'popping round'
as she really wated to see me on her birthday and I "hadn't bothered" to call in at theirs. In truth, I'd just totally forgotten. It was 8pm on a Sunday. They'd be here in half an hour. Fuck fuckety fuckfuck.
I jumped in the car and flew down to the all night garage to get her some flowers, the only thing I could think of. Twatcakes! They didn't have any! Panicking - T minus 15 minutes - I bought her a watering can and a DVD documentary about water voles. Sped home. Stopped half way. Looked at my folorn gifts. Realised there was no way I could pass these off as anything other than a last-minute garage trip. Looked out of the window in despair. Saw...
...a load of bunches of flowers tied to the railings where some kid had got knocked down a month or so earlier.
I am ACTUALLY going to hell. My mum quite liked her three presents though.
(Sat 24th Dec 2005, 11:59, More)
» Cheating cheaty cheats
I was friends with a massive cheater at school
but he got chucked out for eating gazelles behind the bike sheds.
(Thu 17th Nov 2005, 10:41, More)
I was friends with a massive cheater at school
but he got chucked out for eating gazelles behind the bike sheds.
(Thu 17th Nov 2005, 10:41, More)
» It's not me, it's the drugs talking
At Leeds festival a couple of years ago
we were standing towards the back of the crowd, watching The Strokes. I say 'watching'; I couldn't really see as I'd been viciously tricked into ingesting heroic quantities of mushrooms and pills and was spending most of the gig screaming incoherently at the top of my lungs whilst failing miserably in repeated bids to line up a can of cider with my dribbling cake-hole. I overheard a woman behind me berating her fella for not having brought any booze from the tent, so I turned round to offer her a delicious swig of apple heaven. She looked at me really oddly, and said "piss off, will you? I hate that fucking stuff!" She sounded really offended, so I turned round again to try and make piece with her. My welly stuck in the mud, I lost my balance and went crashing down on top of her.
Lying there 'missionary' in the slurry, I realised I had one filthy hand gripping her nork, with cider leaking all over both of us. The only thing I could think of to say to her that might appease the boyfriend towering over us was the first thing that popped into my head: "I'm not trying to pull you!" I shrieked, slurring terribly. "Christ, you look just like my sister!"
I'll never forget the reply, and I'll never do drugs again because of it. "It is me, you spazzy cunt. We're staying in the same tent, remember..?"
(Thu 15th Dec 2005, 17:21, More)
At Leeds festival a couple of years ago
we were standing towards the back of the crowd, watching The Strokes. I say 'watching'; I couldn't really see as I'd been viciously tricked into ingesting heroic quantities of mushrooms and pills and was spending most of the gig screaming incoherently at the top of my lungs whilst failing miserably in repeated bids to line up a can of cider with my dribbling cake-hole. I overheard a woman behind me berating her fella for not having brought any booze from the tent, so I turned round to offer her a delicious swig of apple heaven. She looked at me really oddly, and said "piss off, will you? I hate that fucking stuff!" She sounded really offended, so I turned round again to try and make piece with her. My welly stuck in the mud, I lost my balance and went crashing down on top of her.
Lying there 'missionary' in the slurry, I realised I had one filthy hand gripping her nork, with cider leaking all over both of us. The only thing I could think of to say to her that might appease the boyfriend towering over us was the first thing that popped into my head: "I'm not trying to pull you!" I shrieked, slurring terribly. "Christ, you look just like my sister!"
I'll never forget the reply, and I'll never do drugs again because of it. "It is me, you spazzy cunt. We're staying in the same tent, remember..?"
(Thu 15th Dec 2005, 17:21, More)
» Now, there was no need for that...
My dad and his mates, back in their hazy college days
were walking along a country trail back to their geology field-trip HQ, after a lengthy session of 'refreshments' at a picturesque local pub. Halfway back, they saw a hiker in a nearby field, gripping onto a tall metal structure and shaking like a shitting dog. After a moment's confusion, the utter horror slowly dawned on them - the unlucky bloke had got too close to a pylon, and was currently in the extremely painful process of being flash-fried from the inside out.
Quick as pissed lightening, my dad's mate Steve yelled 'SHIT! I know what to do here - you lot stay back!', wrenched a big fuck-off plank from a nearby fence, and, brandishing it over his head, charged like greased buggery into the field. When he got near the hiker, he brought it down as hard as he could with a massive fucking CRACK! on the guy's outstretched, pylon-clutching arm.
The net result was a blood-curdling scream, a shattered humerous, and Steve having to explain to the local constabulary why he'd smashed up the arm of a man who was already having a bad enough day as it was - he was a radio mast maintenance worker who'd stepped in a massive cow pat whilst crossing the field, and had, when he was brutally and needlessly attacked, been innocently leaning on the tethering cable of the mast he'd been sent to fix, trying vigorously to shake and scrape the worst of it off his welly.
In the end, poor boozy Steve managed to make the smirking copper believe his idiotic story, but was, hilariously, slapped with a hefty fine for drunkenly vandalising a fence.
(Thu 16th Jun 2005, 11:23, More)
My dad and his mates, back in their hazy college days
were walking along a country trail back to their geology field-trip HQ, after a lengthy session of 'refreshments' at a picturesque local pub. Halfway back, they saw a hiker in a nearby field, gripping onto a tall metal structure and shaking like a shitting dog. After a moment's confusion, the utter horror slowly dawned on them - the unlucky bloke had got too close to a pylon, and was currently in the extremely painful process of being flash-fried from the inside out.
Quick as pissed lightening, my dad's mate Steve yelled 'SHIT! I know what to do here - you lot stay back!', wrenched a big fuck-off plank from a nearby fence, and, brandishing it over his head, charged like greased buggery into the field. When he got near the hiker, he brought it down as hard as he could with a massive fucking CRACK! on the guy's outstretched, pylon-clutching arm.
The net result was a blood-curdling scream, a shattered humerous, and Steve having to explain to the local constabulary why he'd smashed up the arm of a man who was already having a bad enough day as it was - he was a radio mast maintenance worker who'd stepped in a massive cow pat whilst crossing the field, and had, when he was brutally and needlessly attacked, been innocently leaning on the tethering cable of the mast he'd been sent to fix, trying vigorously to shake and scrape the worst of it off his welly.
In the end, poor boozy Steve managed to make the smirking copper believe his idiotic story, but was, hilariously, slapped with a hefty fine for drunkenly vandalising a fence.
(Thu 16th Jun 2005, 11:23, More)
» Crappy Prizes
I once also entered a competition at a school fete, aged about 7,
where you tied your name and address to a balloon and let it go, and whoever got a reply from furthest away within two weeks won a full football kit. Most people's never came back, but one kid got a reply from an English couple who'd found his balloon on a beach resort in Portugal - he got the prize.
Mine was presumed lost, and forgotten about. Forgotten about, that is, until about three months later, when I received a shockingly abusive letter threatening legal proceedings from some redneck dickhead in South Carolina. Bizarrely, he reckoned I owed him about $4,000 in recovered medical bills.
Turns out he'd fallen from his garage roof and shattered his pelvis while trying to remove the remnants of my balloon from his TV aerial. :)
(Thu 4th Aug 2005, 15:08, More)
I once also entered a competition at a school fete, aged about 7,
where you tied your name and address to a balloon and let it go, and whoever got a reply from furthest away within two weeks won a full football kit. Most people's never came back, but one kid got a reply from an English couple who'd found his balloon on a beach resort in Portugal - he got the prize.
Mine was presumed lost, and forgotten about. Forgotten about, that is, until about three months later, when I received a shockingly abusive letter threatening legal proceedings from some redneck dickhead in South Carolina. Bizarrely, he reckoned I owed him about $4,000 in recovered medical bills.
Turns out he'd fallen from his garage roof and shattered his pelvis while trying to remove the remnants of my balloon from his TV aerial. :)
(Thu 4th Aug 2005, 15:08, More)