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Petty Things That Get On Your Nerves...


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Has he still not sorted it?

Of course not. Knob. He could at least reply to texts/emails. Shitebag.

Threaten to tell everyone on P&B about his premature ejaculation and inability to perform doggy style due to his diminuitive stature.

:lol:

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Just been offered a job which will be nighshift, 12 hours a night, 7 days a week! :o Thats from July through to September, so im desperate to find another job before I have to resort to that one. :lol: The work seems alright, but unfortunatly it would seem like the end of my life, for at least the summer!

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That's twice I've boiled the kettle to wash up and I've still not done it yet. And anyway, I'm meant to be drying and straightening my hair, so what the hell am I doing here?

Procrastination at it's best.

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Fish fingers for Breakfast....?!?! :o:green

You'll get used to the strange cravings that are appearing around here!

I can't get enough scampi at the moment!

Edited by Rowan
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Your fish fingers (fnnarr) have the same effect on me!

:o Jeezo, Rowan, that's rank! :green It's given me a dilemma - do I boak or nip off for a quick ham shank at the very idea of Lyn-Marie's fishy fingers?! :ph34r::D

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Has he still not sorted it?

Threaten to tell everyone on P&B about his premature ejaculation and inability to perform doggy style due to his diminuitive stature.

You liar!

Anyway, it reminded me of a story about my friend who lost his virginity to a 30 stone student from Hull. No, it isn't a typo. :(

We were out in Glasgow and met her and her pal in a pub. Her pal was a lesbian feminist, about 4 feet 11, with a face like an angry ferret and a demeanour even less pleasant. Plus, she actually had a beret on that was exactly the same as the one sported by Student Grant from Viz's girlfriend, a fact which I definitely had far too many manners to mention to her. Well, until she patronisingly suggested that all men are potential rapists, that is. :D

So, with her in an aghast huff, she drags her pal to the toilets ( fortunately and rather surprisingly not requiring some sort of reinforced construction vehicle or crane) and I seize the opportunity to quiz my mate on his progress. He indicated things were going well and he thought he was 'in', so could I entertain Hilary (or whatever her name was) for a bit longer.

Now I'm crap at talking to women, but for some reason I'm an excellent 'wing man', so I agreed despite the prospect of lectures in gender inequality punctuated by withering looks and indignant sniffing. I did gain a small victory in suggesting she may like a drink, and then cutting her off in mid-acceptance with 'but I wouldn't insult your feminist independence, so...get yer own!' :D

Anyway, long story short I had suffered Bootface Belinda long enough when suddenly my mate tells me he's managed to seal the deal. (I thought mibbe he meant he'd given her an actual seal as a snack, but apparently he just talked her into sex). I wondered why she hadn't had to talk him into sex though, as she must have had not merely her own postcode, but own international airport. The girl was faaaaat. :(

After a couple of evenings out with them, he told me he was going to Hull for a short holiday, to stay at her house. I'm delighted by this for two reasons: first of all I won't have to put up with him in our flat for a few days, which meant plenty of creative shagging for me and the girlfriend at the time (now the wife),and secondly she had this infuriating habit of saying 'random' at the end of every sentence. I mean, 'Would you like another drink?' is not random, it's quite specific, which is why the response 'OOOOhhh my God, that sooooo random' is fucking stupid. <_<

Add this to the squeaky 'Don't be mean!' she uttered every time anyone said no to anything, it's a genuine testament to how much I liked my mate at the time that I didn't tie her down with four guy ropes in the garden and invite the local children over for a bouncy castle party. <_<

One night when he's away and the g/f is at work letting me get some much needed kip, the phone goes. At 3.a.m. :angry: He proceeds to tell me in gleeful yet hushed tones:

"I've done it! I've shagged her! yesss!!"

Now, it's 3 a.m., so my congratulations were extremely limited in their enthusiasm. Suffice it to say a small 'Yay!' was about to be followed by a larger 'Now f**k off' when my attention gained focus as he mentioned 'different positions'. I'm thinking, 'How?....' and as he listed them, I'm waiting for the classic 'doggy' but it went unmentioned.

I realised that blurting out 'What about doggy then?' isn't the most diplomatic thing to ask your mate who is phoning you from Hull at 3a.m., but his response was one of the defining moments of our twenties. He said:

"Well, we tried that, but after half an hour of trying to lift her arse out of the way I gave up."

I think it's possibly one of the few times in my entire life where I have laughed until I'm actually sore.

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"Well, we tried that, but after half an hour of trying to lift her arse out of the way I gave up."

I think it's possibly one of the few times in my entire life where I have laughed until I'm actually sore.

"You're mean" :lol::lol:

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"Well, we tried that, but after half an hour of trying to lift her arse out of the way I gave up."

you couldnt make that up :lol: classic

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:o Jeezo, Rowan, that's rank! :green It's given me a dilemma - do I boak or nip off for a quick ham shank at the very idea of Lyn-Marie's fishy fingers?! :ph34r::D

No disrespect, Kilt, because I'm glad you're getting back on your feet and all that, but seriously, just f**k off with that shite, eh?

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