So here it is – Your chance to get 20 Hail Mary`s or 50 Our fathers. You can decide which one you deserve. So let it all out.

I once accidentally set fire to friends hair when young and trying to toast jelly sweets because we thought the tasted better caramelised!
I thought we’d gotten away with it until the next day when his mum brushed his hair for school and she couldn’t get the comb through the singed mess. Ooops

50 our fathers —- 🙄

I don’t own a mountain bike.

lol TSY

i wear a latex vest under my jersey when biking in winter

I actually quite like most of Take That’s songs since they re-formed……

Last time we had one of these, some poor soul told us he was responsible for his father’s death 😯 He was deadly serious (sounded like an accident) but didn’t reappear on the thread. Can’t remember who he was…

I once bet my best friend I could knock an apple off her head by throwing a reasonably sized small rock at her like william tell stylee. I failed miserably and knackered her head. She ended up in A&E for 3 hrs and had stitches. Is funny looking back at it…. thank the lord I didn’t actually have a bow ‘n arrow or it could have been a whole lot worse!

My mate and I superglued plastic doorbells and held the button on till they stuck. A super-scary version of ring-bell-run as it often took 20 seconds or more for the glue to hold the button in, and you just had to stand there with a twig pushing the button!

Damn we were extreeeme!

@ Emma & User Removed- PMSL!!!!

I was three years old when my baby brother was born. I remember jumping up and down on him whilst he was asleep in his cot. At the time I thought he was a hot water bottle. He is quite old now, but only 5’2″ tall. I have carried the guilt for his restricted growth all my life.

I used to work in my local bike shop- we had a work experience lad one summer holiday. He was from out in the sticks.
We told him that he could get duty free on the Woolwich Ferry, but that he’d only have 5 minutes as they could only sell it while the boat was crossing the Thames. His face lit up.
Next day he came in looking very disappointed. Bastards he said- i was going to get my dad some cheap fags!

Oh how we laughed!!!!!

More more more. My cheeks are aching. Who ever said laughter is the best tonic wasn`t wrong.
I`m getting some super glue and a stick tomorrow for extreme ring-bell-run. pmsl

rossi46 – Member
I used to work in my local bike shop- we had a work experience lad one summer holiday. He was from out in the sticks.
We told him that he could get duty free on the Woolwich Ferry, but that he’d only have 5 minutes as they could only sell it while the boat was crossing the Thames. His face lit up.
Next day he came in looking very disappointed. Bastards he said- i was going to get my dad some cheap fags!

Oh how we laughed!!!!!

The thing is you probably can buy cheap fags on the Woolwich ferry.

I loosened the front wheel nuts on a bike which belonged to a lad who i didn’t like while it was parked up.
He got on & cranked it towards a sloping kerb hoping to catch a bit of air.
As he launched, the wheel detached and he landed on his forks then his face on the street.
I “helpfully” retreived his wheel from where it came to rest 50 metres away.

Oooooh! That’s definitely 50 Our fathers!

At a fireworks party once and I launched a rocket firework off from a milk bottle on the floor. Slight problem arose when the milk bottle toppled over and the firework launched sideways and fired across the way and hit a huge heavy metal type fella on the head and got slightly tangled in his hair. He lost lots of hair and I looked like loosing lots of teeth. I don’t think ( or hope ) he ever Did catch up with the person who me and my friends pointed out had set it off.

One thing I did when young and feel the need to confess:

Around the age of 12 my mates and I used to “hunt” rabbits and pigeons with air rifles and crossbows. One day the neighbours cat wandered in front of our meticulously baited pigeon flock. My mate acted instinctively and put a bolt in the cat. In through his ear and out through mouth.

It didnt die – and this is bit I feel bad about. Instead of rescuing it and bringing it to a vet etc we decided to avoid all the hassle with parents etc and just track the ginger down and put it out of its misery. Chasing a badly injured cat is not a quick or easy affair. It didnt end well.

We got away with it, but it still bugs me.

Dave, that happened to my neighbour but it was down to his own dodgy bike maintenance. I saw the whole thing though, was pretty spectacular.

i swore blind to my dad that i’d been carefully running in a brand new motorbike after it had siezed, when in fact i was horsing the shit out of it over the redline 😳

couldashouldawoulda

That would eat at my soul forever.

couldashouldawoulda Did you give it good send off?

Today, I took a bow saw and a shovel to nature to make it more compatible with mountain biking.

When i used to work at a swimming pool always playing jokes on the work experience

Used to get the to water the plastic flowers, told them the pool was too full and to go find the tap on the outside of the building to let some out
and my favourite we used to get them dressed up in heavy rubber overalls, gas mask and rubber gloves telling them they had to clean the pool with dangerous chemical, they used to be there for hours sweating their bollox off thinking they were using dangerous chemicals while people swam past in just their speedo’s

The other night at a mate house we both pee’d in the boots of others.

My mate is mid separation with his partner, she has already replaced him and brings the poor chap back to sleep in my mates house.

She’s demanding an excessive amount of money from him having not contributed anything into the running of the home for 5 or so years.

He’s perhaps a little bitter, so fuelled with the anger he felt and the pain i once felt for the evilness of some ex partners. We had a tiddle in her brashers and his riggers.

Sharki that’s sad, charming and inspiring* all in one. Maybe remembering doing this, you and your mate will always be able to disarm those bitter episodes that challenge our faith in the good of folk.

*I may myself be a tiny bit bitter about being so far from the shoes I’d like to piss in.

It wasn’t full flow, never of us were that mean.
Just a couple dribbles.

Where her/his cheese and crackers for lunch were smeared however..Now that was just foul.

I think feeding her bloke with the food, my mate was buying didn’t help matters.

Just as well their lunch already smelt of cheese..

Now that’s some confessing! Also, I admire your bladder control – just dribbles can be hard to achieve or even restrain enough when you are that compelled for revenge.

one time at halls at uni the flat upstairs were having a punch party

they scrubbed out their bath and filled it with vodka, fruit juice tinned fruit loadsa stuff and invited a load of people over

anyway they only 1/2 invited me and my mates last minute, so we said no

we waited till they went down the bar and snuck into their flat and dumped some shower gel etc in there i then decided to empty my bladder (this was a full drunken flow of a few mins) we snuck back out and they all rolled back from the pub, with a load of mates about 50 or so and they necked the lot feeling guilty for not inviting us earlier they kept offering us some, we declined

It was more subtle than a full bore soaking.
The dribbles would of soaked in, meaning they’d never know.
Same with the crackers with extra cheese.

Kimbers. Quality!

OK last confession… I was in the loft of my parents’ house and my three year old brother was at the bottom of the ladder squealing to come up. He started climbing the ladder so I went down and carried him up.

He spent half an hour happily gurgling around and coo-ing over all the old toys and boxes of photos and books. When my mum called us down for tea, I tried to pick him up and carry him down but he wailed like a banshee and refused to come. After a good ten minutes of persuasion I told him I’d leave him in the attic and the witch would get him.

I climbed half way down the (14 foot) ladder and repeated the threat – no response. This tactic was repeated twice until I was on the 2nd landing. At this point a pair of infant feet became apparent; my brother was lowering himself from the trapdoor without the benefit of the ladder.

As I ran back up the stairs three at a time he dropped like a stone, over the 14 foot drop.

Amazingly, he landed on the substantial baby-gate, only recently removed from the bottom of the stairs. It had several bendy plastic slats which propelled him into the air, much as if he’d hit a trampoline, before he finally came to rest on the carpet. I’ve never heard such screams….

My folks still think he fell from the bottom rung of the loft ladder.

I took a job in Surrey thinking I’d have great riding in my doorstep. How wrong I was…

I like Surrey riding!

As young teenagers we used to shoot people, houses, each other with blackwidows and air weapons for ‘fun’. Have stone fights, knock and run (with eggs), use automatic centre-punches, break into derelict sites, etc.

A few lads once went on holiday, one of us was quite name brand concious and used designer suncream. The rest of would slightly refill it with cream of our own then laugh as he rubbed it over himself.

he still doesn’t know. He thought were were laughing at his pretentiousness.

couldashouldawoulda On a serious note, You might want to read this.

PMSL at andy7t2!

2 confessions from me, both sadly true:

In a local a few months back, Billie Jean came on and immediately some guy started doing an elaborate choreographed dance routine that he’d obviously been working on all week in front of his bedroom mirror.

A mate of mine (straight after telling every woman on the dancefloor over the age of 40 that I fancied them, but was just too shy to approach them!) wandered over to him, interrupting the guy in full flow, and chatted to him a bit. And kept on pointing at me.

Five minutes later they both came over to where I was standing, at which point my mate said as way of an introduction “Oh, I’ve just been telling XXX about your work as choreographer for Usher. You two should chat”. And promptly walked off.

I cannot dance for sh*t. No rhythm, nothing. But that didn’t stop me talking sh*t for the rest of the night about my background in ballet, and how I wasn’t insured to dance in public.

Everytime I see this guy, he always comes over with his friends and asks about how work is going, and what Usher’s been up to. Seems to look up at me, as though I’m some kind of superstar. Haven’t the heart to tell him it’s a load of sh*t. Sorry chap.

and numero 2.

When I was 15 I played pool for a pub team in a local pool 4th division league. I wasn’t bad, but the rest of the team were sh*t, and the 35 year old captain would never pick me despite me being one of the best players, always coming up with an excuse week after week after promising to pick me the week before.

One week in particular we didn’t have a league game scheduled, and instead held a couple of pub tournaments, both of which I won, walking home with about 50 quids worth of pound coins, a couple of months pocket money for a night’s work. He then refused to pick me for the next week’s team.

By this point I’d had enough – after not getting selected yet again, I went home (this was in about 1997, had just got the internet) and downloaded a copy of the British Pool Association’s logo. I then wrote a letter stating that by not picking me he was in breach of rule XYZ and was facing expulsion from the league. I posted this letter to my uncle in London, who then posted it back down to Cornwall so that it had a London postage mark.

The captain then spent a weekend writing a 4 page ranting letter to the British Pool Association saying how I was tactically naive, and therefore didn’t think I was mature enough to play for the first team etc etc. He also sent a copy to me, the local pool league, and the pub landlord.

I then wrote another letter from the Association saying that the team had been disqualified from the league due to the captain repeatedly lying in his letter, as I had supplied them with tape recordings of our conversations which contradicted his letter.

The next Monday Pool night he got me in front of the whole pool team and gave a long speech saying that because of me contacting the British Pool Association the whole team had been kicked out the league, and tried to shame me.

I then revealed it was all a hoax. He did look like a bit of a **** at this point, having been fooled by a 15 yr old boy in front of all of his mates.

I never did play for that team.

Joey, that second one really is classy (unlike your username) 🙂

there are a lot of young women in southampton who think that i was heavily involved in training the penguins for the older “pick up a penguin” adverts. if you’re reading this… i wasnt.

Uni rented roomshare with 3 of the dirtiest housemates imaginable. No amount of ballbusting would get them to clean up their s**t.

Posted them a polariod photo of their collective toothbrushes stuck up my a**ehole…

Photo was posted 3 months after i left! 😈

As an apprentice planner and platemaker, i made up the record sleeve for Band Aid. The firm got a few gold disks and the guys got copies of the record as a thankyou for doing it gratis. I got the boys at work to sign the sleeve for me. As Sting, Boy George, Bonio etc. I gave it to my girlfriends sister for Xmas. She was made up. I often wonder if she ever turned up at an auction house or antiques roadshow only to be told the bad news.