Personal 'Hall of Shame' moments
Discussion
Prompted by self reflection on a stupid moment of mine (detailed below), what are your best moments where you've done something really dim and you just laugh at yourself as a result.
To set the tone, mine is as follows....
A bathroom in my house has had the lights not working for around a year and a half, but as I don't use that bathroom much I've just left it, and put up with explaining to guests, girlfriend, and myself that the switch has gone and I'd replace it. Did so, nothing happened, so gave up for a while longer. After two years had passed I called my pal who's a sparky and asked him to come take a look, he said, "silly question, but is it the fuse on the isolator switch above the door to the bathroom?".
20 pence 3A fuse installed and light is restored.
Took me 30 seconds..... I told the girlfriend it was a much more complicated fix, made a lot of noise and she was very proud with how handy I am, a lie I'll have to lie with.
Over to you, Pistonheads.
To set the tone, mine is as follows....
A bathroom in my house has had the lights not working for around a year and a half, but as I don't use that bathroom much I've just left it, and put up with explaining to guests, girlfriend, and myself that the switch has gone and I'd replace it. Did so, nothing happened, so gave up for a while longer. After two years had passed I called my pal who's a sparky and asked him to come take a look, he said, "silly question, but is it the fuse on the isolator switch above the door to the bathroom?".
20 pence 3A fuse installed and light is restored.
Took me 30 seconds..... I told the girlfriend it was a much more complicated fix, made a lot of noise and she was very proud with how handy I am, a lie I'll have to lie with.
Over to you, Pistonheads.
Well it wasn't me it was a mate.
I was building up an A Series from scratch for my Mini. I'd sent off the block to be re-bored and to have the crank ground and it had just arrived back. My mate was hanging around the garage bored and was begging to help. Reluctantly I agreed and told him he could fit the oil filter housing. I left him to get on with it, I did the other hundred things, hoisted the engine into position, connected everything up and spun it over on the started motor for a bit to build up the oil presssure only there wasn't any. b
ds checked, checked and re-checked everthing I could think of to no avail.
The next day there was nothing to do but remove the bding thing, strip it down and look to whatever was causing the problem. Several hours later I was still scratching my head and found myself looking at the oil filter. I'd explained to my mate that there were only six parts- the housing, the gasket, the spring and ball bearing release mechanism and two bolts. When I took apart I found he'd only fitted five. He'd left out the sodding ball bearing so all the oil was just being pumped out of the sodding sump and straight back in again.
For the sake of one bding ball bearing my dozy mate had caused me to have to remove strip down, break down,build back up and refit the whole fking thing! For the second fking time in a freexing cold dimly lit garage in the middle of winter in arctic conditions in a Scottish winter.
This time I did it all myself.......
I was building up an A Series from scratch for my Mini. I'd sent off the block to be re-bored and to have the crank ground and it had just arrived back. My mate was hanging around the garage bored and was begging to help. Reluctantly I agreed and told him he could fit the oil filter housing. I left him to get on with it, I did the other hundred things, hoisted the engine into position, connected everything up and spun it over on the started motor for a bit to build up the oil presssure only there wasn't any. b
ds checked, checked and re-checked everthing I could think of to no avail.The next day there was nothing to do but remove the b
ding thing, strip it down and look to whatever was causing the problem. Several hours later I was still scratching my head and found myself looking at the oil filter. I'd explained to my mate that there were only six parts- the housing, the gasket, the spring and ball bearing release mechanism and two bolts. When I took apart I found he'd only fitted five. He'd left out the sodding ball bearing so all the oil was just being pumped out of the sodding sump and straight back in again. For the sake of one b
ding ball bearing my dozy mate had caused me to have to remove strip down, break down,build back up and refit the whole fking thing! For the second fking time in a freexing cold dimly lit garage in the middle of winter in arctic conditions in a Scottish winter.This time I did it all myself.......
My 'Hall of shame' moment will haunt me forever and will never be forgotten by my family.
My Dad was quite the artist and, as a small boy / up to about the age of 10, when my parents put me to sleep in the evenings my Dad would spend 1 night a week drawing me a picture (it could be me with a car, me with a train, a drawing of a happy dream which I had described, anything. He was very creative). I would wake up to these as a complete surprise on any random day of the week. I absolutely cherished these drawings and filed them in a folder to keep forever in plastic wallets.
I started growing up and the drawings stopped but I kept the folder.
At the age of around 13, we had our very first home PC which was connected to the internet. I found the world of p0rnography online (excuse the misspelling. I'm in work) and would wait for those very brief moments when I was alone in the house to use our dial up connection to obtain as many photo's of said material as I possibly could. My Dad had since moved onto creating art on the PC, and we had a very expensive colour printer. I would print as many of these images off as I could, in the highest quality for my own personal pleasure.
But.... Where to hide this material without getting caught? I found out my 'Dad's art folder' which was gathering dust in my bedroom cupboard and realised that this was the perfect place to hide my new images, in between 2 drawings. My parents would never, ever look there for anything dodgy in my bedroom.
I managed to go through my entire childhood without my parents realising what I was up to and I was the envy of all of my mates.
13 years pass. I had grown up and forgotten about the drawings and my secrets within.
I'm now an adult and have found my life partner, whom I had recently proposed to. My parents had split up and it was Christmas, where I had agreed to spend it at my Dad's house with his recently new wife, my fiance and my sister.
We are all sat in the living room providing gifts and joy around the fireplace and my Dad brings out a final gift for me. It was the folder of all of the drawings which he had created for me as a small boy. I was genuinely excited to see them again whilst being able to tell my fiance about the incredible things which my Dad would do for me, just to see a smile on my face.
All of us are now browsing through this folder in amazement. There are hundreds upon hundreds of pages. None of the drawings were dated and we were trying to work out what year each drawing was created, based on the topic in the picture.
My fiance then says "pull one out of the plastic wallet and see if there are dates on the back." Which I did.
I open up one of the plastic wallets, pull one of the drawings out and to my complete and utter horror, we are presented with a high quality print of woman being... shall we say.. filled. In every hole.
As soon as I saw this picture, I had a flashback. I remembered exactly what it was and there was no hiding my secret which I had kept hidden my entire childhood.
The entire room goes quiet and is filled with complete shock, whilst I go as red as a strawberry and had to explain what this was. I had bamboozled my own childhood secret, 13 years on.
My fiance thought it was hilarious and told me to check the other plastic wallets. I declined, because I knew what was inside each one. But it was too late. Everyone wanted to see what was in there and how long it had been going on for.
I had to sit amongst the family, during Christmas and watch as my secret p0rn stash was uncovered, page by page. Each image got worse and more extreme. I could have died on the spot. Each print was perfect, having been stuffed between 2 A4 pages and stored under a bed somewhere for years.
Everyone saw the funny side and my Dad even congratulated me for being so clever. But never have I felt so much shame in my entire life. I am reminded of it every single year.
I still have the folder of my Dad's drawings. The filth has long been removed.
My Dad was quite the artist and, as a small boy / up to about the age of 10, when my parents put me to sleep in the evenings my Dad would spend 1 night a week drawing me a picture (it could be me with a car, me with a train, a drawing of a happy dream which I had described, anything. He was very creative). I would wake up to these as a complete surprise on any random day of the week. I absolutely cherished these drawings and filed them in a folder to keep forever in plastic wallets.
I started growing up and the drawings stopped but I kept the folder.
At the age of around 13, we had our very first home PC which was connected to the internet. I found the world of p0rnography online (excuse the misspelling. I'm in work) and would wait for those very brief moments when I was alone in the house to use our dial up connection to obtain as many photo's of said material as I possibly could. My Dad had since moved onto creating art on the PC, and we had a very expensive colour printer. I would print as many of these images off as I could, in the highest quality for my own personal pleasure.
But.... Where to hide this material without getting caught? I found out my 'Dad's art folder' which was gathering dust in my bedroom cupboard and realised that this was the perfect place to hide my new images, in between 2 drawings. My parents would never, ever look there for anything dodgy in my bedroom.
I managed to go through my entire childhood without my parents realising what I was up to and I was the envy of all of my mates.
13 years pass. I had grown up and forgotten about the drawings and my secrets within.
I'm now an adult and have found my life partner, whom I had recently proposed to. My parents had split up and it was Christmas, where I had agreed to spend it at my Dad's house with his recently new wife, my fiance and my sister.
We are all sat in the living room providing gifts and joy around the fireplace and my Dad brings out a final gift for me. It was the folder of all of the drawings which he had created for me as a small boy. I was genuinely excited to see them again whilst being able to tell my fiance about the incredible things which my Dad would do for me, just to see a smile on my face.
All of us are now browsing through this folder in amazement. There are hundreds upon hundreds of pages. None of the drawings were dated and we were trying to work out what year each drawing was created, based on the topic in the picture.
My fiance then says "pull one out of the plastic wallet and see if there are dates on the back." Which I did.
I open up one of the plastic wallets, pull one of the drawings out and to my complete and utter horror, we are presented with a high quality print of woman being... shall we say.. filled. In every hole.
As soon as I saw this picture, I had a flashback. I remembered exactly what it was and there was no hiding my secret which I had kept hidden my entire childhood.
The entire room goes quiet and is filled with complete shock, whilst I go as red as a strawberry and had to explain what this was. I had bamboozled my own childhood secret, 13 years on.
My fiance thought it was hilarious and told me to check the other plastic wallets. I declined, because I knew what was inside each one. But it was too late. Everyone wanted to see what was in there and how long it had been going on for.
I had to sit amongst the family, during Christmas and watch as my secret p0rn stash was uncovered, page by page. Each image got worse and more extreme. I could have died on the spot. Each print was perfect, having been stuffed between 2 A4 pages and stored under a bed somewhere for years.
Everyone saw the funny side and my Dad even congratulated me for being so clever. But never have I felt so much shame in my entire life. I am reminded of it every single year.
I still have the folder of my Dad's drawings. The filth has long been removed.
Elesmart said:
My 'Hall of shame' moment will haunt me forever and will never be forgotten by my family.
My Dad was quite the artist and, as a small boy / up to about the age of 10, when my parents put me to sleep in the evenings my Dad would spend 1 night a week drawing me a picture (it could be me with a car, me with a train, a drawing of a happy dream which I had described, anything. He was very creative). I would wake up to these as a complete surprise on any random day of the week. I absolutely cherished these drawings and filed them in a folder to keep forever in plastic wallets.
I started growing up and the drawings stopped but I kept the folder.
At the age of around 13, we had our very first home PC which was connected to the internet. I found the world of p0rnography online (excuse the misspelling. I'm in work) and would wait for those very brief moments when I was alone in the house to use our dial up connection to obtain as many photo's of said material as I possibly could. My Dad had since moved onto creating art on the PC, and we had a very expensive colour printer. I would print as many of these images off as I could, in the highest quality for my own personal pleasure.
But.... Where to hide this material without getting caught? I found out my 'Dad's art folder' which was gathering dust in my bedroom cupboard and realised that this was the perfect place to hide my new images, in between 2 drawings. My parents would never, ever look there for anything dodgy in my bedroom.
I managed to go through my entire childhood without my parents realising what I was up to and I was the envy of all of my mates.
13 years pass. I had grown up and forgotten about the drawings and my secrets within.
I'm now an adult and have found my life partner, whom I had recently proposed to. My parents had split up and it was Christmas, where I had agreed to spend it at my Dad's house with his recently new wife, my fiance and my sister.
We are all sat in the living room providing gifts and joy around the fireplace and my Dad brings out a final gift for me. It was the folder of all of the drawings which he had created for me as a small boy. I was genuinely excited to see them again whilst being able to tell my fiance about the incredible things which my Dad would do for me, just to see a smile on my face.
All of us are now browsing through this folder in amazement. There are hundreds upon hundreds of pages. None of the drawings were dated and we were trying to work out what year each drawing was created, based on the topic in the picture.
My fiance then says "pull one out of the plastic wallet and see if there are dates on the back." Which I did.
I open up one of the plastic wallets, pull one of the drawings out and to my complete and utter horror, we are presented with a high quality print of woman being... shall we say.. filled. In every hole.
As soon as I saw this picture, I had a flashback. I remembered exactly what it was and there was no hiding my secret which I had kept hidden my entire childhood.
The entire room goes quiet and is filled with complete shock, whilst I go as red as a strawberry and had to explain what this was. I had bamboozled my own childhood secret, 13 years on.
My fiance thought it was hilarious and told me to check the other plastic wallets. I declined, because I knew what was inside each one. But it was too late. Everyone wanted to see what was in there and how long it had been going on for.
I had to sit amongst the family, during Christmas and watch as my secret p0rn stash was uncovered, page by page. Each image got worse and more extreme. I could have died on the spot. Each print was perfect, having been stuffed between 2 A4 pages and stored under a bed somewhere for years.
Everyone saw the funny side and my Dad even congratulated me for being so clever. But never have I felt so much shame in my entire life. I am reminded of it every single year.
I still have the folder of my Dad's drawings. The filth has long been removed.
I would have been apoplectic, not at the porn, the bloody printer cartridges ! My Dad was quite the artist and, as a small boy / up to about the age of 10, when my parents put me to sleep in the evenings my Dad would spend 1 night a week drawing me a picture (it could be me with a car, me with a train, a drawing of a happy dream which I had described, anything. He was very creative). I would wake up to these as a complete surprise on any random day of the week. I absolutely cherished these drawings and filed them in a folder to keep forever in plastic wallets.
I started growing up and the drawings stopped but I kept the folder.
At the age of around 13, we had our very first home PC which was connected to the internet. I found the world of p0rnography online (excuse the misspelling. I'm in work) and would wait for those very brief moments when I was alone in the house to use our dial up connection to obtain as many photo's of said material as I possibly could. My Dad had since moved onto creating art on the PC, and we had a very expensive colour printer. I would print as many of these images off as I could, in the highest quality for my own personal pleasure.
But.... Where to hide this material without getting caught? I found out my 'Dad's art folder' which was gathering dust in my bedroom cupboard and realised that this was the perfect place to hide my new images, in between 2 drawings. My parents would never, ever look there for anything dodgy in my bedroom.
I managed to go through my entire childhood without my parents realising what I was up to and I was the envy of all of my mates.
13 years pass. I had grown up and forgotten about the drawings and my secrets within.
I'm now an adult and have found my life partner, whom I had recently proposed to. My parents had split up and it was Christmas, where I had agreed to spend it at my Dad's house with his recently new wife, my fiance and my sister.
We are all sat in the living room providing gifts and joy around the fireplace and my Dad brings out a final gift for me. It was the folder of all of the drawings which he had created for me as a small boy. I was genuinely excited to see them again whilst being able to tell my fiance about the incredible things which my Dad would do for me, just to see a smile on my face.
All of us are now browsing through this folder in amazement. There are hundreds upon hundreds of pages. None of the drawings were dated and we were trying to work out what year each drawing was created, based on the topic in the picture.
My fiance then says "pull one out of the plastic wallet and see if there are dates on the back." Which I did.
I open up one of the plastic wallets, pull one of the drawings out and to my complete and utter horror, we are presented with a high quality print of woman being... shall we say.. filled. In every hole.
As soon as I saw this picture, I had a flashback. I remembered exactly what it was and there was no hiding my secret which I had kept hidden my entire childhood.
The entire room goes quiet and is filled with complete shock, whilst I go as red as a strawberry and had to explain what this was. I had bamboozled my own childhood secret, 13 years on.
My fiance thought it was hilarious and told me to check the other plastic wallets. I declined, because I knew what was inside each one. But it was too late. Everyone wanted to see what was in there and how long it had been going on for.
I had to sit amongst the family, during Christmas and watch as my secret p0rn stash was uncovered, page by page. Each image got worse and more extreme. I could have died on the spot. Each print was perfect, having been stuffed between 2 A4 pages and stored under a bed somewhere for years.
Everyone saw the funny side and my Dad even congratulated me for being so clever. But never have I felt so much shame in my entire life. I am reminded of it every single year.
I still have the folder of my Dad's drawings. The filth has long been removed.
Paperless Spoffice !
I’ve not been too bad at DIY accidents, but car maintenance….
I changed a Golf gearbox, and checked the clutch actuation pin for movement that goes through the middle of the main shaft just before pushing it home. What mustn’t you actuate before pushing the gearbox home? Yes – gearbox out - again.
I got the wrong springs in my M5 and it almost sank to the floor. I was mightily peeved about that. Do the same job all over again…
Damaging a disk in my back wriggling around on the floor taking an exhaust off the Golf… Not once – but twice I’ve done this…!
Not me – but I witnessed it – and as its PH….
A good mate was helping his brother get a well-tuned DE Tomaso Pantera up and running and back on the road. I decided to go and offer my services, and have a listen/nosy.
They got it started, and revved it a bit in the drive way – as you would- then switched it off and we congratulated ourselves. Various covers and caps were removed to make sure all was OK. My mate went to the fridge for a beer for himself and me, and his brother opened up another strip of chewing gum. He pops the gum in his mouth and puts the paper outer wrapper in the bin. He rolled the little sliver inner wrapper thing around in his fingers and then flicked it up in the air without thinking. It dropped straight into breather hole on the rocker cover where the breather hose had been.
Shocked faces all round. Tools are grabbed with some haste and the rocker cover is taken off. Disaster! No little silver paper ball. Somehow - it’s fallen down further into the sump.
Up goes the car on the jacks/stands, the oil is drained out – no little ball. The sump is taken off and it’s found.
I changed a Golf gearbox, and checked the clutch actuation pin for movement that goes through the middle of the main shaft just before pushing it home. What mustn’t you actuate before pushing the gearbox home? Yes – gearbox out - again.
I got the wrong springs in my M5 and it almost sank to the floor. I was mightily peeved about that. Do the same job all over again…
Damaging a disk in my back wriggling around on the floor taking an exhaust off the Golf… Not once – but twice I’ve done this…!
Not me – but I witnessed it – and as its PH….
A good mate was helping his brother get a well-tuned DE Tomaso Pantera up and running and back on the road. I decided to go and offer my services, and have a listen/nosy.
They got it started, and revved it a bit in the drive way – as you would- then switched it off and we congratulated ourselves. Various covers and caps were removed to make sure all was OK. My mate went to the fridge for a beer for himself and me, and his brother opened up another strip of chewing gum. He pops the gum in his mouth and puts the paper outer wrapper in the bin. He rolled the little sliver inner wrapper thing around in his fingers and then flicked it up in the air without thinking. It dropped straight into breather hole on the rocker cover where the breather hose had been.
Shocked faces all round. Tools are grabbed with some haste and the rocker cover is taken off. Disaster! No little silver paper ball. Somehow - it’s fallen down further into the sump.
Up goes the car on the jacks/stands, the oil is drained out – no little ball. The sump is taken off and it’s found.
Lemming Train said:
Elesmart said:
My 'Hall of shame' moment will haunt me forever and will never be forgotten by my family.
Why didn't you play dumb and just blame it on your dad, seeing as he was the creator of everything else in the folder? 
Dozy sod!Also, the stunned, guilty look on my face would have been enough to stand up in court as a guilty plea.
Elesmart said:
I still have the folder of my Dad's drawings. The filth has long been removed.
Had a similar experience- as a callow youth I spent many hours waiting for dialup to download pictures of mucky women. I printed them off on our dot matrix printer and stashed them in my room for “later”. Thankfully this stash wasn’t found, however one Christmas Day when the entire family was gathered around my mum mentioned a problem with our shared family pc to my newly qualified pc engineer uncle. Upon investigating the multitude of adult pop ups appearing, he checked the browser history (something 15yr old me was entirely unaware of) which revealed a lot of visits to a strange site called thehun.com...., I blamed my 13yr old brother
Many years ago, I purchased my second car, an ex demo 1997 P plate Ford Ka.
As I was 17 and a boy racer I decided to modify the mighty 1.3 beast so out came a Ka 2000 body kit, 17” momo arrows, m3 mirrors and various other garb.
In my infinite wisdom I also decided to add neon undercar strobes that came on with the brake pedal. As a true bodger I set about disconnecting the brake pedal switch and mounting and wiring it all up but couldn’t for the life of me figure out why the bloody things wouldn’t illuminate on the brake press.
Wiring all checked and rechecked, no joy
Gave it up as a bad job and headed out to meet some friends and was stopped by the plod - no brake lights.
Got a producer and the car towed home. Still my neons weren’t working or the brake lights. And rechecked the wiring again - all worked up correctly, no blown fuses etc.
Decided to call an auto-elec who checked the wiring, fuses, relays etc... no joy and then realised I hadn’t plugged the brake pedal connector back in!
What a total idiot! And cost me about £120 for the pleasure!
As I was 17 and a boy racer I decided to modify the mighty 1.3 beast so out came a Ka 2000 body kit, 17” momo arrows, m3 mirrors and various other garb.
In my infinite wisdom I also decided to add neon undercar strobes that came on with the brake pedal. As a true bodger I set about disconnecting the brake pedal switch and mounting and wiring it all up but couldn’t for the life of me figure out why the bloody things wouldn’t illuminate on the brake press.
Wiring all checked and rechecked, no joy
Gave it up as a bad job and headed out to meet some friends and was stopped by the plod - no brake lights.
Got a producer and the car towed home. Still my neons weren’t working or the brake lights. And rechecked the wiring again - all worked up correctly, no blown fuses etc.
Decided to call an auto-elec who checked the wiring, fuses, relays etc... no joy and then realised I hadn’t plugged the brake pedal connector back in!
What a total idiot! And cost me about £120 for the pleasure!
Elesmart said:
Hilarious story
can you help this chap out?https://www.mumsnet.com/Talk/am_i_being_unreasonab...
nealeh1875 said:
Can't be bothered to read the whole thing - did they fix the wifi connection in the end?alorotom said:
Many years ago, I purchased my second car, an ex demo 1997 P plate Ford Ka.
As I was 17 and a boy racer I decided to modify the mighty 1.3 beast so out came a Ka 2000 body kit, 17” momo arrows, m3 mirrors and various other garb.
In my infinite wisdom I also decided to add neon undercar strobes that came on with the brake pedal. As a true bodger I set about disconnecting the brake pedal switch and mounting and wiring it all up but couldn’t for the life of me figure out why the bloody things wouldn’t illuminate on the brake press.
Wiring all checked and rechecked, no joy
Gave it up as a bad job and headed out to meet some friends and was stopped by the plod - no brake lights.
Got a producer and the car towed home. Still my neons weren’t working or the brake lights. And rechecked the wiring again - all worked up correctly, no blown fuses etc.
Decided to call an auto-elec who checked the wiring, fuses, relays etc... no joy and then realised I hadn’t plugged the brake pedal connector back in!
What a total idiot! And cost me about £120 for the pleasure!
I think this is actually worse than the gentleman's literature story. Everyone's a wAs I was 17 and a boy racer I decided to modify the mighty 1.3 beast so out came a Ka 2000 body kit, 17” momo arrows, m3 mirrors and various other garb.
In my infinite wisdom I also decided to add neon undercar strobes that came on with the brake pedal. As a true bodger I set about disconnecting the brake pedal switch and mounting and wiring it all up but couldn’t for the life of me figure out why the bloody things wouldn’t illuminate on the brake press.
Wiring all checked and rechecked, no joy
Gave it up as a bad job and headed out to meet some friends and was stopped by the plod - no brake lights.
Got a producer and the car towed home. Still my neons weren’t working or the brake lights. And rechecked the wiring again - all worked up correctly, no blown fuses etc.
Decided to call an auto-elec who checked the wiring, fuses, relays etc... no joy and then realised I hadn’t plugged the brake pedal connector back in!
What a total idiot! And cost me about £120 for the pleasure!
ker, but barrying a Ka is beyond the pale. 
Zetec-S said:
nealeh1875 said:
Can't be bothered to read the whole thing - did they fix the wifi connection in the end?When I have a kid I'm going to find it very hard to set an environment where that balance is right for them...
A loooooong time ago I was a student in Leeds and worked at the Brudenell Social Club (now a hip music venue) behind the bar. the year is c 1992/3.
after work most saturdays we'd head down to the local meat market after a few lock in drinks. The establishment was called Stoggies. I kid you not.
one particularly fine evening, the club bedecked with Beestons' finest blart
I pulled this femal who must have been about 15 years older than me if a day. this was before the acronym MILF had even been thought of.
went back to her place after more drinks - did the deed - frankly if I had been on the end of what I gave I'd have been dissapointed (Cue the scene from RIta, Sue and Bob too minus the rover SD1 "I thought I wor great"). anyway, I needed the loo afterwards and had one of those moments where you get to the loo and think, "I know I came in here for a piss, but what I actually want is a dump". Dropped the kids off and cleaned my self up - Orrrrr, so I thought. Gets back in her bedroom feeling a bit wet and warm in the nethers. needless to say in my drunken state I'd been - shall we say - less than sanitory in wiping my own backside.
I realised this and slid off her bed and left most of what I'd missed whilst sat on the pan, on her sheets at the bottom of the bed. needless to say I made my excuses and scarpered.
you;re only 19 once I guess. never saw her again though...
after work most saturdays we'd head down to the local meat market after a few lock in drinks. The establishment was called Stoggies. I kid you not.
one particularly fine evening, the club bedecked with Beestons' finest blart
I pulled this femal who must have been about 15 years older than me if a day. this was before the acronym MILF had even been thought of.went back to her place after more drinks - did the deed - frankly if I had been on the end of what I gave I'd have been dissapointed (Cue the scene from RIta, Sue and Bob too minus the rover SD1 "I thought I wor great"). anyway, I needed the loo afterwards and had one of those moments where you get to the loo and think, "I know I came in here for a piss, but what I actually want is a dump". Dropped the kids off and cleaned my self up - Orrrrr, so I thought. Gets back in her bedroom feeling a bit wet and warm in the nethers. needless to say in my drunken state I'd been - shall we say - less than sanitory in wiping my own backside.
I realised this and slid off her bed and left most of what I'd missed whilst sat on the pan, on her sheets at the bottom of the bed. needless to say I made my excuses and scarpered.
you;re only 19 once I guess. never saw her again though...
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