Profile for Ross McBingobangobongo:
I have a confession...
...I'm awkward.
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I have a confession...
...I'm awkward.
Recent front page messages:
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Best answers to questions:
» The B3TA Confessional
when I was a slightly smaller, slightly less spotty geek...
...I used to get out of PE (can't stand footingball or whatever it's called, I haven't got a competitive bone in my body, or in my collection under the bed) sit in the changing rooms and do my homework so I didn't have to do it at home...
Anyhoo, when I'd finished I looked for the bag of someone who'd done me wrong that week (or a random bag if I had managed to stay off everyone's radar), find their English homework, and add loads of random punctuation. I especially favoured exclamation marks.
This is not the 1st time I've admitted this but it's by far the most public arena in which I have done so.
I'm new here, where are the toilets?
(Thu 26th Aug 2010, 13:44, More)
when I was a slightly smaller, slightly less spotty geek...
...I used to get out of PE (can't stand footingball or whatever it's called, I haven't got a competitive bone in my body, or in my collection under the bed) sit in the changing rooms and do my homework so I didn't have to do it at home...
Anyhoo, when I'd finished I looked for the bag of someone who'd done me wrong that week (or a random bag if I had managed to stay off everyone's radar), find their English homework, and add loads of random punctuation. I especially favoured exclamation marks.
This is not the 1st time I've admitted this but it's by far the most public arena in which I have done so.
I'm new here, where are the toilets?
(Thu 26th Aug 2010, 13:44, More)
» Conversation Killers
Vicar's wife
My dad answered the door, it was the vicar's wife who had a son who was at the scout troop my parent's helped to run. She was just about to ask whatever question it was that she came round for when the dog started frantically sniffing her trousers.
"oh she must be able to smell my pussy" she innocently blurted.
silence... apart from the thunder of my feet stomping up the stairs and the slamming of my door as I threw myself into my room and cried with laughter.
it was a good 10 mins before my dad could extricate himself from the situation and join in the uncontrollable giggles with me.
(Fri 13th May 2011, 12:44, More)
Vicar's wife
My dad answered the door, it was the vicar's wife who had a son who was at the scout troop my parent's helped to run. She was just about to ask whatever question it was that she came round for when the dog started frantically sniffing her trousers.
"oh she must be able to smell my pussy" she innocently blurted.
silence... apart from the thunder of my feet stomping up the stairs and the slamming of my door as I threw myself into my room and cried with laughter.
it was a good 10 mins before my dad could extricate himself from the situation and join in the uncontrollable giggles with me.
(Fri 13th May 2011, 12:44, More)
» Creepy!
my dead grandad...
...I was coming home from a club 18-30 holiday, 2 weeks in Ibiza. I had got off the plane at Manchester Plane Station and was continuing alone on the train to Sheffield to be met by my mum. As the train pulled out of Manchester I felt my eyes closing and I fell into a deep hungover sleep.
Now I never met my grandad, which is a massive shame as I'm told that I resemble him in visage and in character and he sounds like a proper laugh, but he died of asbestosis when he was in his early 40s. That said, I never had a dream about him before this particular date and I hadn't been talking about him or anything that may prompt it.
So, in the dream I remember my Grandpa Cyril saying 'You need to wake up now, you're nearly there'. I woke up immediately, looking around to see if there was anyone near me that could have said something, I was in the middle of the carriage and there was no one else in the whole place and no conductor disappearing out of view. I was just going past the new(ish) Tesco in Sheffield, I was about 2 mins away from the station and needed to get all my gear together, I had just the right amount of time to sort it without getting stressed. It was quite nice.
I mentioned the dream to my mum a bit later (Cyril was her dad) and she went a bit pale when I told her where I woke up. Where the Tesco is now there used to be a train station... not that creepy. My grandad was a fireman (shovelling the coal into the engines) on trains based at that station so that was where he worked. I knew he worked on the trains but I had no idea there had ever been a station there, never mind the one that he worked at.
A bit creepy, but I kinda like it. Sort of made me realise that although there may be no heaven or hell, part of us lives on in our genes... I'm still not having kids though.
(Thu 7th Apr 2011, 16:23, More)
my dead grandad...
...I was coming home from a club 18-30 holiday, 2 weeks in Ibiza. I had got off the plane at Manchester Plane Station and was continuing alone on the train to Sheffield to be met by my mum. As the train pulled out of Manchester I felt my eyes closing and I fell into a deep hungover sleep.
Now I never met my grandad, which is a massive shame as I'm told that I resemble him in visage and in character and he sounds like a proper laugh, but he died of asbestosis when he was in his early 40s. That said, I never had a dream about him before this particular date and I hadn't been talking about him or anything that may prompt it.
So, in the dream I remember my Grandpa Cyril saying 'You need to wake up now, you're nearly there'. I woke up immediately, looking around to see if there was anyone near me that could have said something, I was in the middle of the carriage and there was no one else in the whole place and no conductor disappearing out of view. I was just going past the new(ish) Tesco in Sheffield, I was about 2 mins away from the station and needed to get all my gear together, I had just the right amount of time to sort it without getting stressed. It was quite nice.
I mentioned the dream to my mum a bit later (Cyril was her dad) and she went a bit pale when I told her where I woke up. Where the Tesco is now there used to be a train station... not that creepy. My grandad was a fireman (shovelling the coal into the engines) on trains based at that station so that was where he worked. I knew he worked on the trains but I had no idea there had ever been a station there, never mind the one that he worked at.
A bit creepy, but I kinda like it. Sort of made me realise that although there may be no heaven or hell, part of us lives on in our genes... I'm still not having kids though.
(Thu 7th Apr 2011, 16:23, More)
» Fairgrounds, theme parks, circuses and carnivals
3rd?
really?
s'pose I'd better come up with something good then... balls...
When I was old enough to know better, I used to pick up pound coins wherever I found them (around the house and on the street) all year until the fair came... I'm fairly sure my parents noticed them disappear but to this day have never mentioned it.
Back then the rides were 50p each and all the girls from school were there, stories abound about the time when Katy Harris' top couldn't hold her jubblies on the waltzers and the time you could see up Sarah Raith's skirt if you stood next to 'The Mouse'. It was a young man's dream. The nearest I got to any action was going on the waltzer with 3 girls. As there were 3 teenaged girls in one car we got all the attention of the carnies and spun round like mudderchuffers the whole way round. I also distinctly remember the fact that 'One Night in Heaven' by M People was playing as all the girls were shouting the words and I already hated it. So, the ride came to an end... here was my chance to impress any of the 3... I stood, I held the bar up and I thought I'd got hold of the carriage... they looked honoured by my gentlemanly ways and began stepping off. The 1st one stepped off, holding my hand to steady herself, then the 2nd. The 3rd girl (the one I really fancied) followed but just as she stepped off the ride with one foot, the whole thing moved an inch, enough to overpower my weakling arms and overbalance the car; sending it spinning through 180 degrees, taking her other foot with it. She held on to my hand but as her leg got dragged backwards and round she fell smack on the floor at my feet.
It still haunts me to this day, I never snogged her... and I hate M People even more than I did before.
I think I was sick in a hedge a bit later.
(Thu 9th Jun 2011, 11:43, More)
3rd?
really?
s'pose I'd better come up with something good then... balls...
When I was old enough to know better, I used to pick up pound coins wherever I found them (around the house and on the street) all year until the fair came... I'm fairly sure my parents noticed them disappear but to this day have never mentioned it.
Back then the rides were 50p each and all the girls from school were there, stories abound about the time when Katy Harris' top couldn't hold her jubblies on the waltzers and the time you could see up Sarah Raith's skirt if you stood next to 'The Mouse'. It was a young man's dream. The nearest I got to any action was going on the waltzer with 3 girls. As there were 3 teenaged girls in one car we got all the attention of the carnies and spun round like mudderchuffers the whole way round. I also distinctly remember the fact that 'One Night in Heaven' by M People was playing as all the girls were shouting the words and I already hated it. So, the ride came to an end... here was my chance to impress any of the 3... I stood, I held the bar up and I thought I'd got hold of the carriage... they looked honoured by my gentlemanly ways and began stepping off. The 1st one stepped off, holding my hand to steady herself, then the 2nd. The 3rd girl (the one I really fancied) followed but just as she stepped off the ride with one foot, the whole thing moved an inch, enough to overpower my weakling arms and overbalance the car; sending it spinning through 180 degrees, taking her other foot with it. She held on to my hand but as her leg got dragged backwards and round she fell smack on the floor at my feet.
It still haunts me to this day, I never snogged her... and I hate M People even more than I did before.
I think I was sick in a hedge a bit later.
(Thu 9th Jun 2011, 11:43, More)
» Morning After Souvenirs
My disaster of a housemate...
My friend John was the kind of rugby boy who would always regale us with stories of ridiculousness after a night out which would generally turn out to be a regurgitation of a story someone else told him. Every now and then though...
We decided to drink the last of our money and walk the 5 miles from campus to our house on a Thursday night, I'd just been dumped and ended up snogging an inappropriate girl-friend who still doesn't talk to me (this was in 1996 and I'd known her since I was about 5... ah well) so being more drunk made sense.
John decided he needed to thieve something. We passed a petrol station and he attempted to swipe the only thing that wasn't bolted down. A swinging sign advertising 'Camping Gaz'.
He was cheered up, I was cheered up... for all of 12 seconds - at which juncture a police car rounded the corner, drove across the road and stopped next to us.
Cock.
We spent the night in the police cells, he got a caution, I got a warning and we were let out just in time to get back to the house, grab our stuff and get back to campus for labs...
Another morning, I knocked on his door to see if he wanted a cuppa, he grunted and I slowly opened the door to check if he was ok... he was sat upright on the bed. 2 pint glasses in one hand, a cocktail shaker in the other, a life ring from the side of the Trent around his neck, a bar price list under his arm and he was missing one shoe, on the leg that was soaked up to the knee (the rest of him was completely dry). The look of confusion on his face as he surveyed his winnings was priceless.
(Wed 2nd May 2012, 14:00, More)
My disaster of a housemate...
My friend John was the kind of rugby boy who would always regale us with stories of ridiculousness after a night out which would generally turn out to be a regurgitation of a story someone else told him. Every now and then though...
We decided to drink the last of our money and walk the 5 miles from campus to our house on a Thursday night, I'd just been dumped and ended up snogging an inappropriate girl-friend who still doesn't talk to me (this was in 1996 and I'd known her since I was about 5... ah well) so being more drunk made sense.
John decided he needed to thieve something. We passed a petrol station and he attempted to swipe the only thing that wasn't bolted down. A swinging sign advertising 'Camping Gaz'.
He was cheered up, I was cheered up... for all of 12 seconds - at which juncture a police car rounded the corner, drove across the road and stopped next to us.
Cock.
We spent the night in the police cells, he got a caution, I got a warning and we were let out just in time to get back to the house, grab our stuff and get back to campus for labs...
Another morning, I knocked on his door to see if he wanted a cuppa, he grunted and I slowly opened the door to check if he was ok... he was sat upright on the bed. 2 pint glasses in one hand, a cocktail shaker in the other, a life ring from the side of the Trent around his neck, a bar price list under his arm and he was missing one shoe, on the leg that was soaked up to the knee (the rest of him was completely dry). The look of confusion on his face as he surveyed his winnings was priceless.
(Wed 2nd May 2012, 14:00, More)