» Expensive Mistakes

Software house breaches Council Race policies...
I used to work for a software house which made bespoke systems for councils - these were nice little earners - 25-75k/year, so we would work hard at getting everything *just so* for that all important first sales pitch in front of the great and the good of the council.

So we are all set up and ready to demo to a large council. The system is hooked up to a Barco so is in glorious Gianto-Vision on a screen, very important so that everyone can read all the words. The first of the dummy records is called up, and an audible gasp comes from the audience.

It would appear that our rather unreconstituted Directory of Marketing has decided to key some test data into the system, so the first person in the database would appear to be:-

"Mr Zippah De Doo Dah"
10, Am Dat Wate'melon Street"
Blacksville
Darkie Town"

...he'd been busy because the next few were, shall we say, similar. Oddly, we didn't get the contract.
(Sat 27th Oct 2007, 12:52, More)

» Unexpected Nudity

The first nudity I saw...
...on the night of my honeymoon was not that of my comely new wife, but her brother - cock tucked between legs, running up the corridor of the hotel screaming "Crying Game! Crying Game!"
(Mon 1st Jun 2009, 5:01, More)

» Pubs

So we were in the Hatchets in Bath...
...back when it was a fairly grizzly biker bar, last time I looked it was called "The Old Crow" or something, and was expensively trying to recreate the charm it used to have before whoever took it over fucked with it.

Anyway, 4 of us are having a quiet pint next to a table of skinheads - an unusual clientele for this bar, as, this being the '80s, it's more greebo and grease. You know that scene in Trainspotting, where Begbie kicks off a pub brawl "Which one a you raj cants glassed yon wee lassie?" etc? Well, that's what our cueball headed friends did here - full glass hurled randomly, only to (luckily) bounce off my friend's head. Then the entire table (a triangle of cueballs?) leave sharpish. "Right" says the harder members of my table, "They're not getting away with that...", so up they get and run after them. Myself and an equally timid friend follow at a brisk walk, heading up Parsonage Lane. Suddenly, *screaming* around the corner tears my hard mates, long hair streaming like digital music "Fuckin' Run!!!!" says Rob, legs like pistons as he barrels down the cobbles. In close pursuit are some *30* skinheads either looking for some aggro, or desperately in need of a toilet, I didn't stop to enquire. I "fucking ran!!!" all the way to the Ring 'O Bells in Widcombe.

...And, in the same pub, a truly sublime moment. I was sat in there having a post rugby pint, and in walked a man with a violin case. Falling into conversation with this chap, I bought him a drink in exchange for a tune, likening him to a minstrel of yore (He had a crispy coating that wouldn't melt in my hand). He played the most delicate, exquisite melody just for me, bringing the pub to a respectful, awe-full silence, punctuated with some genuine and respectful applause. He couldn't be persuaded to do an encore, or indeed even another beer, as he had an engagement in a few hours - as the first violinist of the BBC Symphony Orchestra, I later deduced.
(Sun 8th Feb 2009, 5:37, More)

» Hotel Splendido

More of a pissy one...
We were staying in a Hostel in Wellington, New Zealand. It had a bar on the roof, and we were, unsurprisingly, quite trollied on cheap beer.

It was time for bed, but farmerboy Richard, needs a wee first. "Good idea", thinks I, "I'll have one too" and off we trot.

He weaves down the hall towards the communal lav, then through a door. Although I am seeing in triplo-vision, I'm sure that he's a door too soon (perhaps like Jim Morrison?). My suspicions are confirmed by the cry

"Vat?, Vat are you doink? Vy are you pissink on my rucksack??!?!".

Sure enough, he's weeing over a room full of sleeping Germans.

(Insert porcelain/Meissen/Dresden joke here)
(Tue 22nd Jan 2008, 20:01, More)

» Dumb things you've done

The most expensive alarm clock...
...BITD, my new girlfriend (now wife, romance fans!) had just moved in to my batchelor pad. I'd gone to work early, and she couldn't find an alarm clock to get another 30 minute's sleep.

I get a phonecall. "I think I might have broken something". Turns out that if you can't find a clock, simply set the empty microwave to cook on full for 30 minutes.

It goes "paff" after about 2, apparently.

It's genetic. One day I'll list the things my father in law has inadvertently destroyed...
(Sat 22nd Dec 2007, 10:07, More)