posted
Yeah, loads of people met him at a meet he went to. None of them post anymore though - they just kind of dropped off the radar - so it's difficult to find out whether he was an oddball or not..
posted
he and I carried aging grace out of a meat once because she was so drunk. I was shocked at LL's attitude and behaviour. On the way back, he deliberately pushed her down the stairs of the bar. Once outside, he then kept steering her face first into walls, kicking her heels, pushing the back of her head, and making remarks about her body. He encouraged passers by to give her little kicks and punches, and pushed her onto the floor in the doorway of a clip joint and then shouted at her for being 'a drunk whore'. When I said something, he stopped doing it until we got to the road, and he just flung her out into the path of a car (which luckily braked in time), and told me not to say anything. She was pretty much completely in the air when he threw her.
quote:Originally posted by Dr. Benway: He encouraged passers by to give her little kicks and punches, and pushed her onto the floor in the doorway of a clip joint and then shouted at her for being 'a drunk whore'.
turbo
Gold..... What is it good for? You can't eat it, you can't smoke it, yet everybody wants it.
posted
quote:Originally posted by herbs: And it's not beard that mark out serial killers; it's tinted glasses.
And extensive interweb usage. I repeat:
quote:Originally posted by turbo: Excellent. I love the way the serial killers of tomorrow can prepare themselves for their calling on the interweb. They can interact with faceless people, trying out things like 'simmering anger' or 'all out rage'. They can even experiment with flirtation, lewd comments, sharing personal issues, winning people over. Then they can gently segue into weirdness, bizarre reactions and then full-on madness. Then they are ready.
The interweb is truly a beautiful thing.
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posted
did you kill them benway. you can tell me. i know what its like, youve had a lot to drink and things go blurry and you cant work out how to make the people youre with stop doing the things theyre doing, but you need them to stop... and people talk about a red mist, its not like what they say, its more like white noise in your head, someone pressing rewind and fast forward for a second at a time, rewind fast forward rewind fast forward pause rewind fast forward but even that doesnt really describe it properly because nothing can really. its just like, someones fucking with your mind stereo, and then theyre not, theres just silence, because theyve finally stopped doing what they were doing, which was kind of them, or maybe cruel of you but does it really matter which? its all over. and you go round the corner and you have a piss and you light a fag and you walk round the corner and flick some sort of jelly substance off the front of your shirt with your fingernail and you wonder if theres anywhere you can get another pint at this time of night or will you have to get the nightbus.
-------------------- evil is boring: cheerful power Posts: 1655
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posted
Awesome. There was something like that in the Docklands Gazette this week... neighbors, a couple, him 37, nightclub owner, her 25, blonde. There was shouting, and then a noise, a banging, like a head being banged in the floor again and again, and then a man crying, screaming 'I'm sorry! I'M SORRY!', and wailing, and then a life sentence.
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posted
The heating ducts in my old block of flats would allow me to hear the downstairs neighbours shouting 'fackin' cant' at each other, loud bangs, then eerie silence. That was nice.
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quote:Originally posted by dance margarita: ill read your book if you read mine. if they have it in the library. will they have it in the library, do you think?
It's famous and popular, so I would have thought so. It's a 'classic'.
-------------------- evil is boring: cheerful power Posts: 1655
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turbo
Gold..... What is it good for? You can't eat it, you can't smoke it, yet everybody wants it.
posted
quote:Originally posted by Dr. Benway: For a while I lived underneath a dude who was beating this chick. That was traumatic at times.
Surely not as traumatic as the middle-aged hippy homosexual who lived underneath me in my old flat and used to loudly shag young pretty boys. They grunted a lot and the bed was against the radiator. For some reason this was always during the day and most distracting if you're working from home.
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quote:Originally posted by Dr. Benway: For a while I lived underneath a dude who was beating this chick. That was traumatic at times.
Surely not as traumatic as the middle-aged hippy homosexual who lived underneath me in my old flat and used to loudly shag young pretty boys. They grunted a lot and the bed was against the radiator. For some reason this was always during the day and most distracting if you're working from home.
I am not being personal as I know you are being ironic, but I have too much time on my hands and am in the mood to post, although I ought to be going out and doing stuff instead.
An old gay man having joyous, if somewhat creepy-yucky-type sex with young folk, is not quite as traumatic for the participants as the battering duo but you'd think he'd move the bed, wouldn't you? Daytime sex is good though. I'd be envious.
Not so long ago, I had to agonise about calling the police to some battering going on near me. I finally did. It was a surprisingly difficult decision to have to make. I was actually worried that I would upset the victim by interfering. God knows why we worry about the other people's privacy in cases like that.
Apart from that, the most traumatic thing that used to happen to me was the milk man waking me up at 2.30 every morning and there's a pigeon that shits down my chimney all day and half the night. I can't get to the damn pigeon and had to cancel the milk and it's a right misery when you can't have milk on your weetabix in the morning because you run out.
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posted
It's official. I have sent tmo to sleep. I am going out. *slopes off*
-------------------- A day without laughter is a day wasted. In memory of Alastair Posts: 1936
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turbo
Gold..... What is it good for? You can't eat it, you can't smoke it, yet everybody wants it.
posted
quote:Originally posted by sam: Not so long ago, I had to agonise about calling the police to some battering going on near me. I finally did. It was a surprisingly difficult decision to have to make. I was actually worried that I would upset the victim by interfering. God knows why we worry about the other people's privacy in cases like that.
I know. My downstairs neighbours years ago were a mother and her teenage daughter. The woman was a hefty one from Eastern Europe and she even tried to seduce my very scrawny ex, reducing him to a gibbering wreck. Anyway, she used to batter her daughter and it was heart-wrenching to hear. At one point she threw her down the stairs and when I went out to look, the poor girl was unconscious. My flatmates and I used to have long discussions about whether or not to phone the police - it's a bit odd when it's a mother & daughter rather than a bloke and his partner. Also, we were mildly terrified of the woman. We finally called, but they did nothing of note and the battering just continued. Horrible.
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