» Turning into your parents

While shopping for warm clothes in February
I came across a nice Marks and Spencer striped woolly jumper, just my size, for three quid in a charity shop. 'Bargain!' I said and snapped it up. I took it home, tried it on and I was really happy with it.

Last week, I took my daughter to see my parents on the other side of town.

'Nice jumper Noel,' said my mum as I came in the house.

'Cheers! It was a bargain. Only three quid from a charity shop. M&S too!'

'Let me guess: British Heart Foundation? A month or two ago?' she asks.

'Um, yeah. How'd you know that?'

'I was having a spring clean and gave some clothes to charity. That jumper used to belong to your father.'

My dad has an incredibly jaded taste in clothes.

My daughter pointed and laughed.
(Fri 1st May 2009, 7:59, More)

» Workplace Boredom

I work at an airport
and thanks to the 'credit crunch' there's been a noticeable drop in the amount of work in Baggage Handling, leaving me and my mate Bob plenty of time to piss about.

On Friday, we decided to race baggage carts between gates 31 and 32. First one around the undercarriage and back wins.

We were neck and neck coming up to the nose gear, so I tried to swing across and give Bob a dead arm.

Bob saw what was coming, and swerved out of the way... right into the fucking Airbus.

There's a massive gash in the fuselage, and we're both on suspension :(
(Wed 14th Jan 2009, 16:39, More)

» Nightclubs

A post-nightclub story, if you'll indulge me...
Bar Central had two major advantages – they played rock, metal and punk instead of the puerile commercial house and trance everywhere else was playing, and the clientele were somewhat more down-to-earth than your average nightclub rude boy or slapper.

Our story finds us an hour into a Saturday night event. The room was filling nicely and I sipped my San Miguel as I observed the multitude of styles and fashions the people at the rock club had to offer.

My friends and I were expecting Mark to arrive any time now. He was bringing a girl he'd met online. He'd not met her before and we took the piss somewhat, joking she'd turn out to be a twenty-stone rubber-clad man. But we were wrong.

Mark came in and waved, towing behind him a pretty, short rock chick. I was impressed but not surprised; Mark had a way with the ladies.

With introductions made, Jess did the rounds and had a shouted conversation with all of us in turn. I found her to be interesting, funny and intelligent – three major turn-ons for me, but I put that to the back of my mind as she spent most of the night sucking face with Mark.

After a few beers and many dances the night drew to a close. I'd had a good night and got a nice buzz on, but heading back to the cars I started feeling mischievous, so I started some banter with Mark and Jess.

"You guys are gonna get some tonight!" I supposed.

"Nah, my folks are home, and you can hear a mouse fart through the walls in my house," said Mark, obviously disappointed.

"Well, if you want to come back to my place, the three of us can have a joint and see what happens?" I joked, rubbing Mark's thigh for effect.

"YES!" shouted Jess, startling the collected company. Mark glared at her - if looks could kill, she'd probably have at least a broken nose and a black eye. She smiled at me, kissed Mark to placate him and squeezed his arse as she bundled him into the back seat

I could hear Mark and Jess talking over the Incubus CD playing in the car, but couldn't quite hear what they were saying. There certainly seemed to be some protest from Mark, with Jess trying to calm him down.

Jess tapped me on the shoulder and winked and nodded at me when I turned around. My trousers twitched as it occurred to me that Jess really was up for some double-team action.

We got dropped-off at my place and I cracked open some beers and rolled a joint. After a few puffs and passes we retired to the living room and sat on the sofa with Jess in the middle. She kissed Mark, then turned to kiss me, then back to Mark again. Hands started wandering as we became more aroused.

Mark wasn't happy, though. He jumped up off the sofa and put his hands to his head, blurting "This is freaking me out, man!" and running out of the room. Five seconds later the front door slammed and we heard footsteps going down the gravel driveway, and we were alone.

I felt guilty, but we laughed and carried on kissing and sharing the joint. Things moved along at quite a pace and soon enough we're naked and joined at the hip making sweet, stoned love.

I'll tell you something: I really enjoyed myself. She was fun, energetic and dirty, and we made the most of our time together. And, she was the only woman I've ever met who had an eight-inch flap-span.

During our third or fourth outing, her phone beeped a text message announcement, and I giggled. "Poor Mark," I said, kissing her gently.

"I didn't want him anyway," she said. "I've had my eye on you all night - I've always been a bit of a chubby chaser."

Now, I'll be the first to admit that I'd put on some weight over the previous year – maybe fifteen kilos – but I was a little offended at being called 'fat' while lying there, plugging away.

And that's when I realised that trying to work out your BMI in your head is an excellent delaying technique.
(Sat 11th Apr 2009, 17:17, More)

» Unexpected Nudity

*strums banjo*
You'd think, having worked as a window cleaner for a year or so, I'd be full of tales of flashes of flesh through soapy panes. Unfortunately, that's not the case, but the one and only story I have does bear repeating.

It was a typical late-summer's Friday afternoon. I'd been hurtling around villages and up and down the ladders since the early morning and had a couple of jobs left before I could sup my celebratory weekend pint.

I pulled up at a new job - one of thirty new-builds in the small village I'd spent the last couple of hours in. My boss'd been out to price it up a couple of days before, and I'd been left with the unenviable job of the first clean.

I got my stuff together, gave the front door a knock to see if the customer was in and got the ladder ready while I waited. There was no movement at the door so I went on my customary nose-around the house and garden, checking for tricky spots and ladder footings.

I'll interrupt the story here to tell you why I think window cleaners don't see much unexpected nudity: aluminium ladders make a fucking racket when you set them up, giving residents plenty of warning that someone's about to check out their decor.

I set the ladder up at the first upstairs window, checked my gear and climbed up. As I approached the cill, I heard the strains of Christina Aguilera or Pink or some such forgettable pop drifting down from the upstairs of the house. I put my earphones in and drowned it out with some equally forgettable Incubus.

With the first window cleaned, I descended the ladder, moved it along to the next window and climbed up, preparing to wet the panes.

This is when I saw her. She was side-on to me, naked apart from some black ankle socks, her dark blonde hair flowing across her back and the pillows of her bed. Her position was such that she was turned away from me slightly, giving me a nice view of her bottom. No, no open-crotch views, no heaving breasts, just an attractively-shaped young lady obviously pleasuring herself in her room.

We all know that, given this situation, we should avert our eyes and respect the privacy of others, but I was completely hypnotised. The vision of this pretty body having a quick fiddle pressed all my buttons.

She seemed to be working up to the inevitable conclusion. She was working harder and starting to move around on the bed. I was captivated, and had to shift my jeans as the erotic nature of the scene took hold. She was rocking, side to side, working up, writhing, and she turned towards me and OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK'S WRONG WITH YOUR FACE?!

She looked like she'd lost a fight with a thousand angry wasps while tied in a hessian sack. She had acne to make Pizza the Hutt blush. She wore braces on her teeth that pushed her lips out so she looked like Leslie Ash after her collagen experience. I was actually frightened.

She gasped, open-eyed, and shot off into another room. I soaped the window, squeegied, wiped the cill and daydreamed about that pint.
(Fri 29th May 2009, 8:48, More)

» Tightwads



(Thu 23rd Oct 2008, 17:46, More)