whimper

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  • vespa

    god i've really done it this time. christ i'm brain dead. i drank so much last night i'm sweating alcohol out of my eyeballs this morning. i can't lift my feet up to walk so i'm shuffling everywhere like one of those sad shuffling creatures you imagine live under sewers living off rat leftovers to survive, entire generations of sad shuffling creature children growing up never seeing light and never knowing what music sounds like, driven finally to infiltrate human societies by posing as tax-collectors just so they can experience the depth and warmth of human fiscal despair.

    can someone tell me a story please? i think i'm going mentalist again

  • Kuz0

    when last morning.... when this life is over... i'll fly away to the land where joyousness never ends... i'll fly away.ooooh, i'll fly away...oh glory i'll fly away...alayluyah

    vespa, u ma hero.

  • soda0

    I'M FEELING GRRRRRREEAAT!

    Does that help?

  • mrdobolina0

    Vespa, after I hit about 28 years old, I couldnt snap back from work night drinking as easily anymore. Hope thats not happening to you!

  • moth0

    Awww. I feel your pain.

    I went for lunch yesterday and never made it back to the office...

    Spent all my money too and will have to live off rice until crimbo.

    I have no story to tell. You're doomed to feel like death I'm afraid until you have a bath and a snooze.... which could be hours yet.

  • vespa0

    where is this land you speak of kuz? i think i was on my way there last night but i fell asleep in the taxi and when i woke up my wallet was empty save for paper trails of drinks receipts and my mouth tasted like a well used ashtray

  • Kuz0

    vespa's already 42. She'll be keeping up this pace int her grave

  • Kuz0

    it's the holy land you sinful wench! come into the light and find redemption you whore of babylon! denounce satan and all his vices! salvation will not come at the bottom of a glass but from the holy ghost!

  • soda0

    Vespa passed on years ago.
    She's just consumed so much grog she's pickled herself...

    my god girl you are so hardcore.
    It must be due to the mixed British /Aussie parentage you have....
    any irish in there too??

  • vespa0

    cmon SOMEONE must have a story for me...?

    it doesn't have to be the best story in the world, just gimme something to distract me so i don't have to listen to my own brain's death throes

  • moth0

    You startin' a jihad upon Vespa?

  • MX_OnD0

    here's a story vespa:

    Once upon a last night in a scottish town starting with "E" a group of macromedia employees assembled for their christmas night out. One of these noble youngsters was unable to fully participate in the revelry due to a hospital visit 2 weeks ago.
    Many an ale was consumed prior to solids and thereafter also, bright flashes were reported from start to finish of this debauched evening. The more senior members of the group found themselves apologising for the lack of balance of the more junior members as the night drew on....

    the story culminated for your humble reporter at a very respectable hour on the correct side of midnight, unlike tout les autres.

    So today I AM THE ONLY ONE SOBER!

    grrrrrr. I wish I had a hangover too, all I can smell is fecking boozefumes off of everyother bugger!

  • Kuz0

    there was a man from nan-tuckett

  • soda0

    mygawd I can smell the vespa fumes from here...

    *gags slightly at the smell of tequila, gin and meths....then ponders a new cocktail...

  • vespa0

    haha thanks MX_OnD

    please sirs, can i gets some more? silly stories, pointless stories, improbable stories about people who have never been and places with no shopping malls. or even places with shopping malls if you fancy telling a doomsday prophecy story.

  • Kuz0

    Once upon a time in a village so small that you can't even find it on a map there was a small farmhouse standing on the corner of a hay field. If you looked very carefully and squinted your eyes just a bit you would see that right next door to the house there was a wooden stable even tinier than the tiniest house. In the stable there lived a donkey named Chanter.

    Chanter had worked very hard and for many years. One day the farmer said to him that he should travel and see the world before the very sad day his eyes would close forever. The farmer patted him on his back, gave him a bag of corn, and wished him good luck. Chanter smiled and said goodbye to the farmer and began walking along the dusty road. He was walking toward the famous city of Bremen where all of the finest musicians in the world lived. He thought he would become singer.

    Chanter walked along the road for more than an hour. Suddenly a howl came up from the ground. He hadn't been looking where he was walking and had stepped right on the paws of dog! The dog jumped up as fast as an old dog can jump. They looked at each other and Chanter quickly apologized for stepping on the dog's paw, as his hooves were quite large, much larger than paws.

    The old dog began to calm down and introduced himself as Anciano. They became friends and since Anciano was a baritone they decided to sing together and off they went to Bremen.

    Later they came upon a strange mass of fur in the middle of the road. Anciano let out a growl and the ball of fur flew off the ground. Chanter dropped his bag of corn. But instead of corn, to everyone's amazement a dozen mice ran from the sack. Things looked quite a mess. Someone was crying. It was a very old fat cat. The mice had all gone. She looked up at Chanter and Anciano and purred out her name: it was Songe.

    They told her that they were off to Bremen to sing. Her eyes began to glow and she asked if she could sing with them. They all became friends and walked close together. The more they talked to each other the closer they walked to each other until they thought that they must be the closest friends in the world.

    It was almost dinnertime and they came across a farmhouse. Strutting back and forth on top of the barn was a rooster who looked so nervous they all thought he would fall off at any moment. He was making such a racket! They heard him saying that the farmer's wife had decided to put him in the soup! Chanter wailed. Belemente Chanticleer was the rooster's name.

    He asked where they were going and faster than a hen's beak can peck decided to join them on the road. He told them that Bremen was still very far off and that they should find a place to sleep. Belemente Chanticleer told his friends that there was a house no more than an hour away and that a bright light was shining in the window so they would be able to find it in the dark.

    None of them knew that the house they were approaching was full of robbers. They thought it was another farmhouse and made a plan. They would open the window and sing for their supper. They hoped that the farmer and his wife would think that their voices were so beautiful that they would be invited in for some dinner and be given a place to stay for the night. They began to sing.

    "Ghosts!" cried the robbers. Out of the front door the robbers ran. They ran down the road until they could no longer be seen. Chanter, Anciano, Songe and Belemente Chanticleer looked into the house. Dinner was still on the table. They ate it all up! The friends were tired. Each found a spot and they curled up for the night.

    One of the robbers didn't believe in ghosts. He said that they must have been chased out of their home not by ghosts but by other robbers! He crept back to the house to see what or who was there. He went into the dark cottage from the back door. He felt in his pockets and found some matches and bent down to light the fire on the glowing coals of the fireplace. The coals were really Songe's eyes!

    Songe leapt up terrified and jumped onto his face. She pulled his ears with her nails and slapped his head with her tail. The robber couldn't see. He ran over Anciano who bit him on the leg. Chanter was scared and kept kicking the walls until Belemete Chantileer fell right off the house and cock-a-doodle-do'ed with all his might.

    It was only two minutes after the Robber had entered the house from the back door that he was running out of the front door as fast as his feet would carry him, crying out that he believed in ghosts after all! His friends all screamed and ran after him.

    The following morning Belemente Chantileer woke everyone up. They had all slept very well. They looked at the empty house and walked around the empty garden. They thought it was a better place to live than Bremen, and that they could sing with each other. In fact, they all live there today. They are all very old and they are all very happy.

  • soda0

    kuz, thats beautiful.

    poof.

  • soda0

    the best story I have is about a mate of mine who got two of his flatmates preggas at the same time... but that's probably not the sort of story you want to hear...

  • Kuz0

    lol.

    oi watchit soda!

  • Kuz0

    that's very impressive. do tell soda

    *pulls up chair*

  • Kuz0

    When i was 15, one autumn evening, I was walking home and decided to take a shortcut throught the local park. Upon entering the park i soon found myself being followed by a fat, old, grissled looking man. A little unnerved, i picked up the pace and walked with more haste. It wasn't long however until said man caught up with me, and struck up a conversation. "Are you looking for someone?" he asked. Nervous i lied "yes, a few of my mates are just over there, i'm going back to them". "Oh" he replied, and then proceeded to tell me a story about how he was waiting for his friend who he usually has sexual encounters with in yonder toilets. I assured him i was not of the homosexual inclination, to which he begged my pardon for the trouble and left me on my away. Not 2minutes later however, he caught up with me again an proposed "I'll give you £30 for a blowjob". Well, back then £30 was a lot of money (a whole weekend shift at Argos!), so I blew him... but i did not swallow....Took the £30 and lamented that my first ever sexual experience was a homosexual one.