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Post by Eddie The Bastard on Apr 22, 2021 6:48:29 GMT
I hope the chap that inspired this thread is okay.
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Post by spentcase on Apr 22, 2021 6:58:44 GMT
I don't want to be Captain Negative, Eduardo, but he's probably karked it.
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Post by elnoodle the reasonable on Apr 22, 2021 7:14:41 GMT
He'll be fine. Sounds like he has quite an impressive reserve tank. One of life's great survivors. Able to refuel at a moment's notice on supermarket pizza before soldiering on.
How many of us can boast such mettle? Truly a God among men.
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Post by armstrongracer on Apr 22, 2021 8:15:13 GMT
Getting back to the original thread. The gentleman in question could be a very clever shoplifter. Let me explain. Back in the early 80's when you could do this without the stormtroopers being sent in my brother squatted in a brilliant gaff in West London. Amongst the people in his house were a number of Kiwi's, one was the gilrlfiend of Kenny Iron's mechanic in the Loctite team. Parrish liked antipodean mechanics because they were good and more importantly, they were cheap. All the Aus & Kiwi racers & mechanics hung out. One of the stories I got from my brother was going to the Supermarket with one of the poor Austrailian racers trying to make it. Every cent went on the bike, food and accommodation was an unecessary luxuary. Said racer walked around the shop only putting essential stuff like bog roll in the trolly whilst at the same time eating stuff, apples, bags of crisps, packets of biscuits. Apparently, the theory was you can only get prosecuted for theft once you leave the shop. Not sure that would work in these days of CCTV but its worth trying.
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Post by spentcase on Apr 22, 2021 8:30:09 GMT
On a similar note, in Basic Training, only one bloke from each room (of 12) was allowed down to the NAAFI shop to purchase necessities for the rest of the lads.
You were only allowed to get stuff to maintain your kit, boot polish, starch, brasso, PT kit whitener etc.
When you came back up to the block your shopping bag was inspected to make sure you hadn't tried to smuggle in any stickies.
So the guy going down to the shop had to be able to consume a 1.5 ltr bottle of Irn Bru, 3 Mars bars and a Ginsters growler over the 50 yards from the NAAFI back to the accommodation. Any evidence of confectionery consumption would be punished with a beasting, so you had to be on the money with getting it down your neck as quick as possible.
Some of the blokes who did get rumbled would get PT'd into oblivion and produce some spectacular fizzy pop power vom.
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Post by armstrongracer on Apr 22, 2021 12:47:22 GMT
Ginsters & Iron Bru vom, proper keeping it real. Non of that champers & canape crap you get in the officers mess.
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Post by Diego the toe clipper on Apr 22, 2021 12:59:40 GMT
You mean there are people who drink Irn Bru for pleasure?
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Post by philthewindsurfer on Apr 25, 2021 15:11:29 GMT
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Post by Eddie The Bastard on Apr 25, 2021 16:49:23 GMT
They were lucky that someone stood on the roof in case he managed to drive off again.
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Post by elnoodle the reasonable on Apr 30, 2021 0:02:50 GMT
Right, this burd I know messaged me to say she was posting me an amazing present. Great, I thought. Polaroids of her tits. Or maybe her tits and fanny and a bit of her face in too.
So this parcel arrived and it weighed a fucking ton. I was waiting for bits for my motor and panicked that I'd inadvertently ordered a fucking crankshaft for a V6. But I opened it and inside was a blanket. A fucking blanket. A weighted blanket. So I thanked her for her kindness and generosity (I'd have preferred the polariods at this point) and chucked it on my bed to keep her happy; thinking I'd use it for one night before turning it into the world's heaviest wank rag.
Game. Changer.
This thing is incredible. What a brilliant night's sleep. I woke up calm and relaxed and generally felt better than I normally do in the bastard morning.
The only downside is it's a bit warm but that's manageable as warden lets me open my window these days.
Actually, it's also a bit awkward if you want to knock one out as it's so heavy. You need to raise your knees to create a sufficient air gap to operate in and then the other cunts in the dorm moan that they can't see the telly.
Nothing that can't be tweaked.
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Post by spentcase on Apr 30, 2021 8:48:30 GMT
Right, this burd I know messaged me to say she was posting me an amazing present. Great, I thought. Polaroids of her tits. Or maybe her tits and fanny and a bit of her face in too. So this parcel arrived and it weighed a fucking ton. I was waiting for bits for my motor and panicked that I'd inadvertently ordered a fucking crankshaft for a V6. But I opened it and inside was a blanket. A fucking blanket. A weighted blanket. So I thanked her for her kindness and generosity (I'd have preferred the polariods at this point) and chucked it on my bed to keep her happy; thinking I'd use it for one night before turning it into the world's heaviest wank rag. Game. Changer. This thing is incredible. What a brilliant night's sleep. I woke up calm and relaxed and generally felt better than I normally do in the bastard morning. The only downside is it's a bit warm but that's manageable as warden lets me open my window these days. Actually, it's also a bit awkward if you want to knock one out as it's so heavy. You need to raise your knees to create a sufficient air gap to operate in and then the other cunts in the dorm moan that they can't see the telly. Nothing that can't be tweaked. I had a couple of lines of thought from this. The first is that a sub-duvet milsch is always conducting Mitt a knee pyramid and the second is that even though the blanket turned out to work, birds are pretty wank at buying shit for blokes and get all pissy when you don't dig the bath-bombs or cunty slippers that they got for you. |
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Post by elnoodle the reasonable on Apr 30, 2021 9:07:14 GMT
Cunt slippers...
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Post by armstrongracer on Apr 30, 2021 9:57:44 GMT
Catholic blanket.
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Post by elnoodle the reasonable on Apr 30, 2021 10:13:11 GMT
It's a step up from boxing gloves. |
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Post by armstrongracer on Apr 30, 2021 11:00:29 GMT
Or tying yer wrists to the bed posts like the priests used to do at my school.
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