My favourite post since I've been here!

Quote by sheddy

something

Quote by goose35
something else

Quote by Sassy-Seren
more stuff

Quote by goose35
something completely off topic

Quote by then sheddy
FFS stop hijacking every thread and try using MSN
:shock:

Quote by firelizard
oh dear random thoughts keep popping up now and I'm getting all unnecessary ..time for a shower and change!

Quote by davej
What has embarrased you the most thus far.
I honestly thought that I would never top the day, I got run over in a busy High street for embarrasment, but today has managed to go one better.
mrs davej picked up a very nice bit of shiny metal yesterday at a pretty penny. All singing all dancing luxury in copper and black leather, with one of the main features being the fact that its a hard top convertible, you know the type, press a button and the roof folds gently into the boot in ultra smooth fashion.
Today we go for a ride and climb in on the drive, press the button and the roof does exactly what it says on the tin and dissapears into the boot and off we set.
After about an hour of driving, the first spits of rain come down so we duly pull over into a bus stop adjacent to a very busy intersection controlled by a miriade of traffic lights. So the scene is set it starts raining. We are at a very busy junction with other cars all over the place and yes your there in front of me.........the fLuckin roof will not reappear out of the boot.
So there we are siting in a roofless car and the spits of rain have turned into a torrential and I mean torrential, down pour. Everyone is staring at us as they go past. Mrs davej then decides to protect the electrics in the centre console, by putting up the umberella.
I could have died. Now we are sitting in a car at a busy junction with an umberella up like Mary fLuckin Poppins. 15 long and agonising minutes of toe curling embarrassment.
We drove home after it stopped both soaked to the skin. The inside of the car is sodden. Mrs davej was so wet that her mascarra started to run., which made things look even more stupid
There is gonna be one severely abused Merc dealer come monday when they re-open

Quote by Missy
This is one of many many of my most memorable (sure I'll be dragging more up later lol). It's the opening post to a hilarious thread - poor Davej was still exaperated by page 3!!
What has embarrased you the most thus far.
I honestly thought that I would never top the day, I got run over in a busy High street for embarrasment, but today has managed to go one better.
mrs davej picked up a very nice bit of shiny metal yesterday at a pretty penny. All singing all dancing luxury in copper and black leather, with one of the main features being the fact that its a hard top convertible, you know the type, press a button and the roof folds gently into the boot in ultra smooth fashion.
Today we go for a ride and climb in on the drive, press the button and the roof does exactly what it says on the tin and dissapears into the boot and off we set.
After about an hour of driving, the first spits of rain come down so we duly pull over into a bus stop adjacent to a very busy intersection controlled by a miriade of traffic lights. So the scene is set it starts raining. We are at a very busy junction with other cars all over the place and yes your there in front of me.........the fLuckin roof will not reappear out of the boot.
So there we are siting in a roofless car and the spits of rain have turned into a torrential and I mean torrential, down pour. Everyone is staring at us as they go past. Mrs davej then decides to protect the electrics in the centre console, by putting up the umberella.
I could have died. Now we are sitting in a car at a busy junction with an umberella up like Mary fLuckin Poppins. 15 long and agonising minutes of toe curling embarrassment.
We drove home after it stopped both soaked to the skin. The inside of the car is sodden. Mrs davej was so wet that her mascarra started to run., which made things look even more stupid
There is gonna be one severely abused Merc dealer come monday when they re-open

Quote by Sgt Bilko
Good point Dave - there needs to be an International set of rules, so based upon my attempt I would set the Rules as follows:

1. Competitors must start with their clothes on (including some form of footwear)
2. Occupants of bungalows must run out of the back door and back in through the front door instead of climbing stairs and out through the front door/ in the back door on the return leg.
3. The shower must be off and have been off for at least one hour before the record is attempted to ensure the hot water is not "primed."
4. Any shampoo may be used.
curtains are optional
6. Every inch of the body must be washed. This will be a disadvantage to fat people but this is compensated by the fact that skinny people will have to run around the shower to get wet!!
7. A minimum of dressing gown and footwear constitutes being post shower dressed.
Note: one pair of breasts = one knob and sack!!

Quote by PoloLady
Once the red squirrel was a common sight In British parks and on country walks, yet now they are a rare sight indeed. It is common knowledge that the introduction of the Grey squirrel to our countryside has been the primary reason for the rapid decline in our native breed. Alas this is not the only wildlife which has dramatically been endangered by the introduction of a competitive breed from across the Atlantic.
I recall summertime walks as a child and taking for granted the sight of Y-fronts resting on washing-lines. The variety of Y-front was astounding: the Lesser-spotted White Y, the Greater Stained Y, the brightly coloured M&S, along with the Brown Paisley. Endless rows of garden washing-lines, all with Y-fronts relaxing in the breeze.
The Y-front did not just inhabit the city gardens. On sandy beaches along the British coast they could be seen basking in the sun or dipping in a rock pool.
Many believe it was the 1984-1990 Levi’s advertising campaign which introduced the American bred Boxer-Shorts into the UK. The Boxer-Shorts where never really considered a threat to out native breeds of Y’s - as they flourished in abundance and the Boxers were initially meant to have been contained and restricted to television captivity.
Nobody quite knows how, but the Boxers began to reproduce outside of the containment area and soon they were establishing themselves in towns and cities far away from the recording studios.
To this day studies cannot clearly define how the Boxers had such a rapid impact on the numbers of Y-fronts. But the success of the Boxer was undoubtedly linked to the rapid decline in Y’s up and down the country.
At an astounding rate the Boxers evolved and new breeds appeared. The Common Cotton-Mix, which had been the original breed, was also now under threat by the genetically advanced Calvins.
I had the glorious privilege of sighting a Greater Stained Y on Sunday. Once seen in abundance, this now rare and lonely creature was resting on a bus shelter. As I gazed in wonderment at this rare sight, I realised how we should not take for granted that our Great British wildlife breeds will be around forever and treasure each and every sighting as a blessing that they live on.
In support of the Foundation for the Preservation of British Underwear Wildlife, I have pledged to help make record of the sightings to establish current numbers across the UK.
Please help by noting your sightings in a hope we can preserve this breed for generations to come.

Quote by artificer
Why, yes , I'm suprised you didn't know they have made something of a comeback out here in the wilds of Shropshire...
...it began when we shooting folk got a little bored with blasting the stuffing out of pheasants bred in captivity. These creatures are so tame that you have to pick them up and 'rugby style' drop -kick them into the air so your mates can get a half challenging shot (that's how Johnny Wilkinson keeps getting injured-we shout 'higher Johnny', the young fellow strains his physique and 'twang', there goes another Hamstring). Anyway, we tried shooting badgers-but we all need a decent shaving brush so we left them alone. We tried shooting fish-that was fun, waiting for those big Salmon to leap up over the weir and...wahoo! We had to stop after the unfortunate situation with the Police Diver. We even tried shooting Ramblers, which was possibly the most fun of all-you just can't miss them with those orange kagools and brightly coloured bobble-hats. But, the country needs Librarians and Folk Singers-so we were ordered to let them be.
Then, one day, all the Land Rovers were gathered in a car park-well, you have to find somewhere for the dogs to shit, can't let them do it on good farmland-when we saw something skulking in a bush. 'Bang', we let fly and bagged the creature-or thought we had. When we sent the Labrador to collect it the creature, which had been feigning death, leapt up on the dog's head, depositing a stream of deadly, five week old shit into its eyes, and wrapping its evil extremities around its head, before sliding off into the undergrowth. We knew we'd wounded it, but our poor Labrador was dead and we were frightened of following without our four -legged guide (and besides, we couldn't find the Labour politician which the dog was always attached to).
So, we went home to regroup, and find out what the beast was. After much googling-we didn't use Lycos because it reminded us too much of the poor dog-we discovered that we had encountered none other than the 'Ancient Piss-stained Y -Front' (shitnicus grandadus)', considered extinct, but obviously extant in the wildernesses that are Shropshire's car parks.
We decided to hire a wildlife expert from the television, funny little bespectacled fellow with a beard and a high voice-let's call him 'Odd Billie' for the sake of his anonymity. He quickly tracked down several breeding groups, all festering away happily, and trapped several pairs before taking them away for a 'captive-breeding' programme. This was a great success, and it wasn't long before several hundred pairs were released into the wild under a strict licensing regime administered by Marks& Spencer. We are allowed to shoot a limited number-no more than the 'eqivalent of a mini-bus load of Civil Servants' per annum.
But, what sport, our shooting pleasure is greater than ever. Mind you, we have had to breed a new dog to match the ferocity of the quarry-(actually, that's merely what we are telling the police: we are actually buying crazed Pit Bulls from Yardie Gangsters as they are the only dogs capable of surviving the encounters). I have taken several of my 'kills' home and had them stuffed and mounted on the wall. It's funny, whenever I ask a young lady if she would like to 'come home, take down my Y-Fronts and see where the Pit Bull grabbed hold'...they always have something else to do.....

Quote by PoloLady
I am at my wits end and any help would be gratefully received.
Many of you may know that myself and Noel set up home in our caravan of love - even though it had no door at the time.
He was a nice guy then…

He worked in communications….

He was going to be my Richard Gere (Officer and a Gentleman)…..

We were going to be married…

I had my dress picked out and being bought on instalments ….

But one morning he just got in his car and said he had to go away…….

He didn’t tell me he was going on a secret mission………

Apparently it was awful - he lost many of his friends…

Finally one day there was a knock at the caravan door - he was home! But he had changed…

He started saying the strangest things, like “call me Easy-Rider” and “Don’t cramp my space - property is theft”. Then he went out and bought a motorbike. The last time I saw him he was starting his bike up and said “The road is my lover now and I am gonna explore every inch of her”….

So please help me - what should I do? Should I buy him a portion of cod and chips for his tea tonight or not? Or do you think he will be gone for a bit longer than that?

Quote by firelizard
This is mine :giggle:

something

Quote by goose35
something else

Quote by Sassy-Seren
more stuff

Quote by goose35
something completely off topic

Quote by then sheddy
FFS stop hijacking every thread and try using MSN
:shock:

Quote by davej
Ah dear Warwick, if only you hadnt listened to poor advice then you wouldn't look as though you have put your pride and joy through the office shreader. I can tell you as someone who has kept himself in trim for a number of years, that some of the advice previousely posted will only add to your woes and that if you follow my routine, then you will never suffer again.
As you will have heard, the best possible place to perform the delicate art of gliding a stiff unforgiving object, (the razor) across a soft, mallable, non uniform, tender shape (yer nuts) is the shower. Completely wrong!
Now to my point. Do not shave your tadger and accesories in the shower (despite the general advice) because the increase temperature will have made them sag and be as easy to handle as unbeaten egg whites, no dear Warwick, get them as cold as possible and you will find that they are much easier to handle.
Can I suggest that the best place to shave your Gonads is in your local fast food shop. This is what you do:-
Pack your razor into your pocket along with no more than , drive down to your local Mc 'D' and purchase a happy meal. Exchange the standard coke for a thick shake or better still a slush puppy and ask them to serve your drink first and hold the bun. Take your thick shake and ensuring the coast is clear, nip into the toilets and after whipping the top off your drink, plunge your nuts into the thick shake, the severe cold will instanly make them shrink and tighten and therefore esier to handle and shave, you will have the added benefit that the thick liquid will act as a very passable shaving foam thus further aiding your quest.
You may encounter a problem with posture in the toilet as the cubicles are small, (they were not designed with shaving in mind) however if you sit on the pan with the lid down and put one foot up on the door bolt and stretch the other across to the giant loo roll holder, you will find yourself in a position where your legs are akimbo and your now shrunken gonads, exposed and as hard as a golf ball. Now your task is simple......shave away.
Once you have finished shaving, you should again plunge your gleaming sack into the cooling liquid which also acts as a balm. Dry yourself, dress yourself, replace your drinks lid and return to the counter to collect your meal. As you will see you have now killed two birds with one stone you have shaved and lunched at the same time. You may even have had the happy benefit of collecting a two for one voucher in which case you could take a freind on your next visit.
The choice to drink your drink, or to give it to a stranger, saying you are too full to drink it, is yours and really is dependant on your mood for the day.
P.S. remember to shower when you get home otherwise your meat and veg will remain Bannana flavoured.
I hope that my advice is of use to you and that you view your next trip to get an Egg Mcmuffin as not a chore but an oppurtunity.

Quote by Scandal
To the driver behind you smell of cabbages and poo!
Quality

Quote by Sassy-Seren
Mine has to be Sarge's opener for 'My most embarassing moment ever' ! Had me in stitches and he was still a newbie back then, bless him
http://www.swingingheaven.co.uk/swingers-forum/viewtopic/5909.html

Quote by WibblyWobbly
Mine has to be Sarge's opener for 'My most embarassing moment ever' ! Had me in stitches and he was still a newbie back then, bless him
http://www.swingingheaven.co.uk/swingers-forum/viewtopic/5909.html

Quote by Sassy-Seren
Lazy mare

Quote by WibblyWobbly
Lazy mare

Quote by Sassy-Seren
come over here and say that

Quote by WibblyWobbly
come over here and say that

Quote by markz
please don't encourage the lady members to drive

Quote by Dino
After reading Dave notts" holiday joy" post last week it reminded me of our little holiday from hell ! !
All this is true, i swear!
I lay awake one night, thinking how I could give Horny-Red a romantic weekend. It then struck me, a three night break on a ship, cruising around the fiords of Scandinavia. The crisp, cold nights, holding her in my arms and smelling her hair as we sail through the night. The sight of Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet flashed through my mind……..then I thought……hang fecker sank. I tried to think of another romantic film that involved ships…..but only came up with the “Battle of the River Plate”…..so I gave up.
The day arrived and we boarded the ship at Hull. Very nice we thought. The ship was decked out with everything we could wish for. Nothing could go wrong and we settled down to be spoilt by the ship’s crew. We were as happy as pigs in shit.
On the first evening we reached the coast of Scandinavia. I say Scandinavia as I didn’t know which coast we were off……either Denmark, Norway or Sweden. We stopped at a port in the evening. It was about 10 o’clock at night and I thought
“I wonder why we are stopping here?”
Horny-Red knew why we had stopped “It’s a late night shopping trip?”
A late night shopping trip? At 10 o’clock at night? “Are you sure Darling” I said.
“Dino……trust me. A woman knows these things”
So I trusted her. This was my first mistake. We headed for the whatever the nautical term is. We reached it and joined the throng of people waiting to depart. At this point, I noticed that our attire of t-shirt and trousers, for me, and short skirt and top for Horny-Red did not match the rest of the passengers. They were wearing big parkas and fluffy boots. They looked like they were heading out for an expedition with Captain Scott. The only thing missing was the dogs and sleds. I pointed this out to Horny-Red. “Don’t be a wuss” she said. So off we went, down the gang-plank, dressed to go to the Caribbean but heading off into a Scandinavian village at 10:15 at night with the temperature plummeting faster than a prostitutes knickers.
We followed the crowd for about 15 minutes, with us two bringing up the rear and starting to shiver. At this point, we reached a street with loads of houses either side. The crowd started to break go into the houses. This took about two minutes until we were left alone in the street. I turned to Hory-Red and said “I thought you said they were going shopping?”
“How should I have known” she replied. It now dawned on us that we had just followed the crew to their homes. So she looked at me, smiled and said “We had better get back to the boat you  I knew it; I was to get the blame. We set off at fast pace, one-to get back to the ship and two-so we didn’t freeze.
We reached the dock to see………………………..feck all. Pitch black and no boat. I turned to H-R and said “There is no boat”. She replied “No shit Sherlock. Even a blind man would notice 20,000 ton of metal missing”. I started to feel that she thought this was my idea.
In desperation we started to head back into town. The cold had started to take its toll. We were both chattering and shivering. I was thinking what we should do. I didnt know what country we were in, where our ship was or was heading or even the ships name ! One possibility was to knock on the door of a house. But salvation came into view…..a clapped out Volvo with some guy in it. I jumped into the middle of the road and waved my hands. Did you know that snow, ice and cars travelling at 30 mph do not equate to a small stopping distance. He came to a side spinning stop, and jumped out screaming in a language I couldn’t quite work out. So I said what any other Englishman says when abroad, “Sorry”. At this he looks at me a bit differently, and notices that we have barely any clothes on and H-Rs tears, that had started running down her face because of the cold, have now turned to icicles. He approached me and started to ask me what was up. I explained as best I could and his face crumpled up and he nearly fell over with laughter. H-R did not think it was funny.
He asked “Where are you heading to?”
“I do not know” I replied.
“Do you know where you are?”
“I have no idea” I said.
“Do you know what the name of the ship is?”
“Ermm I think it had Viking somewhere in the name”.
At this, his face lit up and he said come with me. We both jumped in and headed off in a flurry of snow. We raced across the snow and ice roads at a speed that Jenson Button would be proud of. H-R did not like this part. I could tell by the way her eyes were shut tightly. We finally arrived at the next fiord where there was another port. We got out and the Volvo man took us to a hover-craft. He took us on board and introduced us to the captain. Volvo man explained to the captain what had happened. Once again, Volvo man and the captain pissed themselves laughing. H-R was like Queen Victoria, she was not amused. The captain got on the radio and started contacting the local shipping. After 5 minutes he managed to find our ship. We said farewell to Volvo man and we set off.
Shooting across the sea in a hovercraft is supposed to be an exhilarating experience. It was a pity it was nothing like that. We went up and down, then up and down, then our stomachs went up and down and queasiness set in. It took all our ability to keep our stomachs on the inside. I then noticed a sign behind the captain. It said that the trip cost £150. My arse fell out. I turned to H-R and told her what I had seen. She was took two seconds of composure and then the floodgates opened. This just couldn’t get any worse. An hour later we arrived at a dock in another part of Scandinavia. I turned to the captain and explained that we did not have that much money on us. If he came back to the ship we could give him the money. He smiled and said he has never had such a laugh in his life and could not take the money off us. He bid us farewell and we left.
We walked down the dock looking for our ship. We see it at the end……but the crew have just unhooked the ropes and it is pulling away.
“Noooooooooooooooooooooooo” I scream as I run down the dock with H-R trying as best as she could to keep up. I reach the end of the dock a completely broken man. Kneeling on the ground I see the ship slowly moving away. A dock worker comes up and asks “What is the matter?”
I said “That is our ship and it is going”.
“It is ok,” he said. “They are just moving it to allow other ships to dock”.
“Oh thank feck for that”, I shouted.
H-R and I managed to get on board. We went to our cabin and collapsed. What a fecking night!!!
H-R wouldn’t let us go on any excursions over the next couple of days. She said “We don’t want to be stranded again after the last time you took us ashore”. I knew I would get the blame