» Advice from Old People

My gran is losing the plot a bit these days, but she is my hero.
She was a single mother, worked all her life, passionate about politics and the rights of the worker, and has never let anyone make her ashamed of who she is and where she is from.

I love her to bits.

She's given me four very important bits of advice: -

1) Always earn enough to pay your own rent, even if your man is paying it for you - you never know when you will need to be independent, and having a life outside your home stops you becoming a clingy, needy individual.

2) Never let any man talk down to you. Ever.

3) Have as much sex as humanly possible, with no guilt, no shame, and no regrets. She taught me that I should have sex because I wanted to, not because someone forced me into it, but that to deny myself pleasure because of a misguided fear of damaging my reputation was stupid. Her biggest regret is that she didn't put it about more as a young woman.

4) People in power only hold that power because you allow them to. If they abuse that power, you can take it away from them. This applies to relationships, employers, landlords, councils and the Government.

I love my gran I do.
(Thu 19th Jun 2008, 16:57, More)

» The Onosecond

I was in work one afternoon
when I got hit with a bout of cystitis. Not a pleasant thing for us girlies, and I was in crippling pain.

My boss agreed to send me hom, and I sent a text message to my then boyfriend telling him 'I'm on my way home, got cystitis, everyone in work now thinks you are some kind of superstud and that we were at it like bunnies on viagra last night. Can you nip out and get me some cranberry juice?'

When I got home, there was no cranberry juice and the boyf was quite surprised to see me. Apparently he hadn't got my message. 'No problem' I thought, 'it'll probably get delivered later or something'.

About an hour later I got a phone call off a strange bloke, asking me how I was feeling. I'd got a digit wrong in my boyfriends number and the message had gone to this poor man. Apparently his girlfriend was not amused, but his mates thought he was some kind of wench magnet.

He thanked me for improving his reputation, and hoped I got better soon. I blushed purple, stammered a sorry down the phone, and tried to hide under a cushion.

Needless to say everyone else found this hilarious.
(Sat 28th May 2005, 16:00, More)

» Mugged

This wasn't me
but I don't fucking care, it made me wee.

I used to work up in Cheadle with a transexual by the name of Laura. Not the smallest, or feminine trannie I've ever met - she was ex army, with shoulders as wide as the doorway and hands the size of dinnerplates and certainly not the most convincing (think Bab's Cabs from League of Gentlemen), but she dressed, and lived as a woman. From behind, she looked quite girly in an old fashioned kind of way - shealways wore flowery skirts and she had a bleached blond perm.

She was out in Cheadle village one lunch time, and a passing chav on his bicycle thought 'Oooh an easy target innit, I'll tax 'er handbag'

He made a grab for it as he went past, only to be stopped by the muscles that 16 years squaddie training gives a man. He fell off his bike and landed on the pavement. Laura squealed in fright and looked down at the poor chav lying on the floor, who was by now utterly confused by the fact that his intended victim had five o'clock shadow and a voice deeper than Barry White.

I don't think I've ever seen a chav run as fast as that since.
(Thu 15th Jun 2006, 19:36, More)

» Faking it

Bit of a re-post this, but have it anyway :)
Many many years ago I dated a body-builder for a while (yes Clinton Hadfield, I mean you). He was a cunt, and I have no idea why I put up with him for as long as I did.

Being a body-builder, he had an ego the size of a small country. He also had a nasty prediliction for Testos Boost, which is a hormone that has many unfortunate side effects (mood swings, aggression, over-confidence), all of which he suffered from. Including the 3" cock. His sexual technique could at best be described as 'determined', and at worst like being poked repeatedly with a really tiny knitting needle.

He laboured under the illusion that he was somehow a sexual stud of legendary proportions, despite his tiny nob, and because of this subjected me to hours of the dullest sex I have ever had the misfortune to receive.

At the begining of our relationship, I was inexperienced. Then I realised that he was just shit, and gently tried to get him try different positions/techniques etc, but he got offended. I faked orgasm occasionally, just to be polite and then realised that he neither noticed, nor cared whether I came or not. I decided to spend the time doing something useful, like watching TV. This became my undoing...

During a particulary lengthy, dry and occasionally painful session, I started watching Coronation Street. He (as usual) didn't notice, and he eventually finished the job. My mate then called round for a brew, and in the course of the evening, we discussed the important plotlines of Corrie. Turns out that she missed the second half of it and desperately wanted to know what had happened. So I told her. In front of the boyfriend. Who suddenly looked very very VERY pissed off.

Ooops ;)
(Thu 10th Jul 2008, 17:57, More)

» Heckles

Kids say the sweetest things...
A friend of mine was a youth worker, working in Manchester with young offenders as part of their court ordered 'rehabilitation' into society. He enjoyed his job, and was eager to be 'down with the kids'. He's also a bit of a hippy.

Anyway, one summer he turned up for work wearing a sarong, which amused the 15 or so young teenage chavs that had turned up for the session no end. After an hour of being called a poof, David tried to reason with them saying, 'Just because I am wearing a sarong, doesn't mean I'm gay. I mean, David Beckham wears them doesn't he?'

All was silent, till a scally 12 year old lad piped up from the back, 'Yeah, but Posh Spice takes it up the arse doesn't she sir?'

He didn't wear a sarong again.
(Sat 8th Apr 2006, 17:47, More)