You know that scene in Airplane, where a queue forms to slap a hysterical woman around the face? That's TMO, that is, and you're the lady.
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H1ppychick
We all prisoners, chickee-baby. We all locked in.
posted
quote:Originally posted by jonesy999: I decided not to modify anything I post...
[27.10.2005, 08:48: Message edited by: jonesy999]
Erm...
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posted
Very good Hippychick. But that was edited because it was rubbish and made me sound psychotic, not because I was spooked by Benway's post. Well done, though.
And Benway, I know there weren't any posts about sandwiches. Well, at least I can't remember any. Of course it's entirely possible I've forgotten one. I read your piece as a comment about me posting up any old crap just for the sake of getting some words on the board. It struck a chord because that's exactly how I felt at the time. Just put something up there, anything, you know, to maybe spark people into posting at a quiet time. I didn't stop to think "wow, that's utter garbage. It's better to have nothing to look at than the first nonsense to pour from my fingers". You nailed that just as I was thinking it.
I'm being a bit twattish. Sorry about that, I only explained myself because you mentioned it again in this thread.
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but the whole 'responds to everything' is only a reference to that thing that bandy did. Fucking Bandy. He's not here, but this is his legacy: A legacy of hatred. Nice one, bandy. Nice one.
[ 27.10.2005, 09:05: Message edited by: Dr. Benway ]
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Mattresses, I've discovered, are surprisingly heavy. Especially when full of piss.
I did some manual labour this morning. I've never done it before. It was predictably dreadful, but strangely fulfilling. I had to help replace old beds with new ones in a travel inn. Which meant pushing beds down five flights of stairs and loading them onto a van. Conversation between workers spanned two main topics. Beer. Women. At one point I had to wait several minutes poised with a precarious bed-frame at the back of a lorry waiting for one man to stop ogling a brief-skirted girl up the street - "where's wind when you need it?". By lunchtime, copious flushes of sweat had changed the colours of our t-shirts. One of us (not me) had so little remaining strength he could barely carry polythene bags. My heels were blistered. My hair - god - my hair was irretrievable. I was verging on nausea, serious unstoppable nausea, the likes of which I last experienced several years ago in - ironically - a travel lodge similar to this one after a too-gruelling rock gig in Edinburgh. This time, however, I managed to avoid being sick in my cupped hands and spilling it all over the bed. I ignored the blisters. I shrugged who-cares at the hair. I wiped away some forehead sweat with the back of my hand. I picked up another metal pole at the back of the lorry, and I screwed it manfully in place.
Now I feel like a bit of a stud, obviously. I reckon I totally pwn these TMO office-boy pussies. Perhaps tomorrow I'll find work on a building site, or sledgehammering cordoned-off roads. By the end of the week, I'll be downing pints in one and doing boners over girls.
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quote:Originally posted by Kira: The trouble is once you've hit that ultimate high; nothing you or any newbie posts ever seems high-brow or witty enough.
Newbies are bound to never be interesting enough.
There needs to be chaff to have the wheat but wheat is all that people want...
So we have wheat sometimes and nothing in between...
I say bring on the chaff and see what happens...
I'm sorry its Thursday and I'm waffling.
another quality post from Kira...
But Kira, you've posted stuff about black thongs, football and anal. If you stop posting, who else will do this?
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I love doing manly stuff. I loved driving my demolished sauna to a tip in a transit van, ignoring other road users due to their invisibility, then hurling bits of wood into a giant skip. Well, it was fun for about five minutes. Sadly I'm as weak as a kitten, and need a lie down after carrying the shopping back from Sainsburys.
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posted
Yes, Jonesy. You should've kept the bricks though. We could've used them for weightlifting, building walls, throwing through windows and stuff. I used to do stuff like that all the time when I was younger. Making biceps happen. Building igloos with actual snow. Smashing tenement windows with huge boulders - though to be honest, it was my friend Katy that did that. I was already running by the time she'd started the back-swing. But still. It's there. Hardness. Wanting re-awakened.
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posted
I drive a white van, and I just love the special rules that you have to follow such as the orange-to-red light means speed up, you can change lanes without indicating and the first two stripes of a zebra crossing don't count.
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do you also provide reasoned opinion on current affairs for the UK's favourite newspaper? If so, I was with you on what you said about Debbi, 23, from Stoke on Trent. Natural is best.
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