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» Public Nudity
Private Beach Invasion
Once, many wavy lines ago:
On holiday with my mum as a 12 year old (I was 12, not her) on the Greek Island of Skiathos. One day, a little bored of the rather narrow beach near our hotel, I decided to follow the coast and see if I could find any adventures. After navigating a couple of rocky headlands I came across (steady) a seemingly deserted beach. It was only after I'd taken a couple of bold steps onto the sand that I saw an orange, leathery late middle-aged man, totally stark-bollocked, rising from his deck chair about 150 yards ahead of me, high up the rather wide beach, next to some stairs which led up to a big old house. I therefore assumed I had just invaded a private beach. At the same moment, I saw his gaze move from me to something out at sea; I turned in that direction to see a similar birthday suited young blonde trophy woman, laid out on a rock at the end of an outcropping, who was sitting up from her repose to inspect the pubescent interloper, who was in turn doing some brief inspecting of his own as her fine, bronzed Bristols rose into distant view.
I broke into a jog and carried on in the direction I was going with my eyes fixed on the horizon, hoping that if I don't see them, they don't see me. Old-man money/ball-bags may have yelled something but I don't remember. The worst part was that i eventually ran into an impassable cliff and didn't fancy trying to find my way back overland so had to make an even more embarrassing return run back across the beach, acting as if I was training, hadn't even seen them & did that sort of thing all the time.
tl;dr - It wasn't long at all, looked like a winking acorn. Ahem - Kid runs across a private beach, runs back again. Nude couple are affronted.
(Mon 21st Jul 2014, 16:15, More)
Private Beach Invasion
Once, many wavy lines ago:
On holiday with my mum as a 12 year old (I was 12, not her) on the Greek Island of Skiathos. One day, a little bored of the rather narrow beach near our hotel, I decided to follow the coast and see if I could find any adventures. After navigating a couple of rocky headlands I came across (steady) a seemingly deserted beach. It was only after I'd taken a couple of bold steps onto the sand that I saw an orange, leathery late middle-aged man, totally stark-bollocked, rising from his deck chair about 150 yards ahead of me, high up the rather wide beach, next to some stairs which led up to a big old house. I therefore assumed I had just invaded a private beach. At the same moment, I saw his gaze move from me to something out at sea; I turned in that direction to see a similar birthday suited young blonde trophy woman, laid out on a rock at the end of an outcropping, who was sitting up from her repose to inspect the pubescent interloper, who was in turn doing some brief inspecting of his own as her fine, bronzed Bristols rose into distant view.
I broke into a jog and carried on in the direction I was going with my eyes fixed on the horizon, hoping that if I don't see them, they don't see me. Old-man money/ball-bags may have yelled something but I don't remember. The worst part was that i eventually ran into an impassable cliff and didn't fancy trying to find my way back overland so had to make an even more embarrassing return run back across the beach, acting as if I was training, hadn't even seen them & did that sort of thing all the time.
tl;dr - It wasn't long at all, looked like a winking acorn. Ahem - Kid runs across a private beach, runs back again. Nude couple are affronted.
(Mon 21st Jul 2014, 16:15, More)
» Near Death Experiences II
Junior Longjohn
Dunno how close to death this would've been, more like round the corner from Death, on nodding terms kinda thing:
One of my earliest memories is of being on a family Jollyday to some greasy spanish campsite. A day out to the local zoo proved a bit more harrowing than the usual 'why does that grubby polar bear look so sad mummy?' emotional trauma, although the true horror of what could've been only really sunk in years later.
In the reptile house, there was a small tiled enclosure, sunk into the ground and partioned off by a sturdy metal fence, which, critically, had a 3-4 inch gap at the bottom. This enclosure contained what appeared to be wooden crocodiles; whether they were all wooden or only some were, or they were all real but very lazy I will never know. All I do know is at the time, I thought they weren't real. That is, until one reared up and attempted to munch my toddler toes off, which were sticking through the gap at the bottom of the fence. A quick step back and no harm was done, I remember being largely unfazed by the near miss, probably due to shock, whilst parental what-the-fucks bounced off the tiles around me.
I often wonder what life would've been like with a metallic robot foot, perhaps with retractable wheels, pulsating LEDs like Kit's face from Knightrider and a small recess in which to store interesting pebbles/acorns. But that's another matter.
(Mon 19th May 2014, 11:12, More)
Junior Longjohn
Dunno how close to death this would've been, more like round the corner from Death, on nodding terms kinda thing:
One of my earliest memories is of being on a family Jollyday to some greasy spanish campsite. A day out to the local zoo proved a bit more harrowing than the usual 'why does that grubby polar bear look so sad mummy?' emotional trauma, although the true horror of what could've been only really sunk in years later.
In the reptile house, there was a small tiled enclosure, sunk into the ground and partioned off by a sturdy metal fence, which, critically, had a 3-4 inch gap at the bottom. This enclosure contained what appeared to be wooden crocodiles; whether they were all wooden or only some were, or they were all real but very lazy I will never know. All I do know is at the time, I thought they weren't real. That is, until one reared up and attempted to munch my toddler toes off, which were sticking through the gap at the bottom of the fence. A quick step back and no harm was done, I remember being largely unfazed by the near miss, probably due to shock, whilst parental what-the-fucks bounced off the tiles around me.
I often wonder what life would've been like with a metallic robot foot, perhaps with retractable wheels, pulsating LEDs like Kit's face from Knightrider and a small recess in which to store interesting pebbles/acorns. But that's another matter.
(Mon 19th May 2014, 11:12, More)
» False Economies
I used to produce Honey commercially
Which was a sweet business (I expect at least one remonstration for that pun... and the rest), but my profits began to fall when my hives became a vandalism target for the local hoodlums. The little bastards has taken to leaping the admittedly flimsy and ineffectual fence that bordered my humble farm after hours and alternately setting fire to and pissing out the highly flammable wooden hives. Despite putting up signs about guard dogs, electric fences and closed circuit cameras, nothing could deter the vindictive shits. Finally, in desperation I hit on a plan, I would move the hives to a sympathetic friends farm and set up a 'sting' (BOOM NOW WE'RE TALKING) using actual CCTV and fake hives. Didn't work though.
So much for my false bee colony.
(Thu 26th Jun 2014, 14:40, More)
I used to produce Honey commercially
Which was a sweet business (I expect at least one remonstration for that pun... and the rest), but my profits began to fall when my hives became a vandalism target for the local hoodlums. The little bastards has taken to leaping the admittedly flimsy and ineffectual fence that bordered my humble farm after hours and alternately setting fire to and pissing out the highly flammable wooden hives. Despite putting up signs about guard dogs, electric fences and closed circuit cameras, nothing could deter the vindictive shits. Finally, in desperation I hit on a plan, I would move the hives to a sympathetic friends farm and set up a 'sting' (BOOM NOW WE'RE TALKING) using actual CCTV and fake hives. Didn't work though.
So much for my false bee colony.
(Thu 26th Jun 2014, 14:40, More)
» Weddings Part II
Never been to a wedding
Then 2 come along at once:
A number of years back my sister and one of my best friends decided to get married on the same day (not to each other). As one of the 4 best men for my mate, I resolved not to miss out on all the rib-nudging blokey fun on offer (this is a joke just for me, although you may be able to tell from my poncey style, I'm not a blokey-bloke Nuts subscribing knuckle dragger) and with both services being held within 25 minutes drive of each other, I resolved to be present for my mate's registrar service in York city centre; drive back home to the family hovel for my sister's reception, meal and to co-DJ the boisterous drunken-dad-dance-off, with my step-brother. I would then round off the night by going back into town for a messy stumble down Nostalgia Drive, at one of the other best men's cave of solitude.
All well and good except for no small amount of guilt trips from mother & sister; that's normal though.
But then:
My mate's marriage fell apart after 9 days, as he realised, far, far too late that he'd made a massive, not to mention expensive, mistake. As it also turns out the slimy fuck-splash had slept with the backing singer in his band (search for Hijack Oscar - they were on some E4 battle of the bands years ago, my mate is the bassist) the week before his Big Day. He told me all this some 3 or 4 months after the event. I called him a selfish, amoral prick.
He said that's why we are friends, I concurred and we continued the large drugs-fuelled, Accords & models, super-orgy. Max Mosley was there, so you know it was a good one. Wink.
(Tue 4th Nov 2014, 13:59, More)
Never been to a wedding
Then 2 come along at once:
A number of years back my sister and one of my best friends decided to get married on the same day (not to each other). As one of the 4 best men for my mate, I resolved not to miss out on all the rib-nudging blokey fun on offer (this is a joke just for me, although you may be able to tell from my poncey style, I'm not a blokey-bloke Nuts subscribing knuckle dragger) and with both services being held within 25 minutes drive of each other, I resolved to be present for my mate's registrar service in York city centre; drive back home to the family hovel for my sister's reception, meal and to co-DJ the boisterous drunken-dad-dance-off, with my step-brother. I would then round off the night by going back into town for a messy stumble down Nostalgia Drive, at one of the other best men's cave of solitude.
All well and good except for no small amount of guilt trips from mother & sister; that's normal though.
But then:
My mate's marriage fell apart after 9 days, as he realised, far, far too late that he'd made a massive, not to mention expensive, mistake. As it also turns out the slimy fuck-splash had slept with the backing singer in his band (search for Hijack Oscar - they were on some E4 battle of the bands years ago, my mate is the bassist) the week before his Big Day. He told me all this some 3 or 4 months after the event. I called him a selfish, amoral prick.
He said that's why we are friends, I concurred and we continued the large drugs-fuelled, Accords & models, super-orgy. Max Mosley was there, so you know it was a good one. Wink.
(Tue 4th Nov 2014, 13:59, More)