» That's me on TV!

Hands up who remembers Disney Adventures.
For everyone else who was too old or too young in the early nineties to be getting up at six every Saturday morning to watch cartoons, Disney Adventures was one of those kiddies shows with a live presenter in between cartoons. Every week, it was broadcast from a different place, as suggested by members of the audience.

My dad, being the Big Hairy Biker that he is, wrote in on behalf of me and suggested that they go to Santa Pod Raceway in Northamptonshire and broadcast from there. And they did and acknowledged us for suggesting it.

As the presenter said thanks to [Applebite] and her Dad for suggesting the raceway, she also showed a rather attractive picture of me (aged 3 and 1/2) that my dad had sent in with the letter, looking very pleased with myself and clutching a half melted Magnum ice cream in one hand with the rest of it smeared all over my face. On national television. Thanks Dad.

Click 'I like this' if you want me to find the picture and post it.
(Thu 11th Jun 2009, 17:32, More)

» School Days

Lemsip max - works every time.
There was a boy in most of my GCSE classes at high school, who safe to say, was a complete moron. He dicked about endlessly in lessons, and was always coming up with new ways tricks to royally piss off every teacher we had.

I have plenty of stories about him, but this is probably the one that sticks out most for me.

Anyway, we had a substitute one geography lesson, so of course, no one did anything. This boy had a cold at the time, so had brought in a couple of sachets of Lemsip max or soemthing to put in a drink for some relief. During the subbed lesson, he got bored, and so naturally decided that the best way to relieve this was to snort the lemsip.

He sprinkled the powder on to the table, arranged it into a neat line with his bus pass and used a rolled up piece of scrap paper to snort the lot.

The effect was immediate, and for everyone else, hilarious.

He leaped backwards out of his chair, ending up on the floor, yelling in pain, the left side of his face bright red, and his left eye and nostril streaming.

Once he had recovered enough to sit back down, he discovered that it had actually worked quite well, and the left sinuses were now clear. Only the right side was still blocked.



So he went and snorted the other sachet too.
(Wed 4th Feb 2009, 20:02, More)

» Will you go out with me?

All thanks to copious amounts of vodka and quantro and a tricky lock
We first hooked up at one of his parties. My friend got wasted, locked herself in the bathroom and couldn't get out again. After about half an hour of this on either side of the door:

Me: Unlock the door.
Her:I want to come out, let me out!
Me: You have to unlock the door first. No, let go of the handle.
Her: I don't like it, Apple, let me ouuuuuut.
Me: Listen to me, unlock the door and you can come out. No, turn off the shower!

She stopped answering, everyone was dying for a piss, so the lock had to be broken off.

Five minutes later, I'm sat on the kitchen floor, upset that I let my mate lock herself in the bathroom as I'd been looking after her, and he comes and sits by me, angry at the fate of his bathroom door.

One thing lead to another, and about an hour later I woke up on the kitchen floor as after our intensive make-out session, we'd both fallen asleep (well it was four in the morning)and wandered off to find a bed that was more forgiving on my spine. The next morning, he avoided the issue, and though we kept meeting up for more make out sessions, it was about three weeks before the actual asking occurred.

I was at his one night, and someone rang him up. He put the phone down pretty quickly. "Who was that?" I asked.
"Oh just some girl. She wants me" He joked.
"O Rly? Well she can't have you." I joked back
"Am I yours then?"
"Yep"
"Does that mean your interested in a serious relationship now?" Suddenly all serious. I looked at him, unsure. "Yeah, that was my super-cool way of asking you out."

Much making out ensued.

Length? About four months, which is an immense achievement for me.
(Thu 28th Aug 2008, 21:03, More)

» Shit Stories: Part Number Two

Canada vs. Greece
A few years ago, we went to Canada to visit my uncle who, surprisingly, lives there. When out in the national parks of Alberta, I thought I had seen the worse public toilets I ever would (as, reading these answers, I don't plan on going to Asia). They were exactly like the ones in old western films: a wooden shack, with a bench, a hole and if you were really, really lucky, a toilet seat. One of the worst mistakes of my life was to accidentally look straight down an almost full one

I didn't think I'd see a worse one.

Then I went to Greece.

Now, I love Greece: the people, the country, the food and the history - everything. But the toilets on the some of the beaches are horrendous: a thing sort of like a small shower base set into the floor, with grooves for your feet and a hole in between. That's it. And most likely it'll be a lovely brown colour from people's poor aiming.

The first time we went to Greece, my sister was about 6, so when she had to go, she had to go NOW. She decided this on a beach.

"Are you sure?" my mum asked "It won't be very nice." She was positive, she HAD to go, and it wasn't the kind of thing she could just do casually in the sea.

So my mum took her up to dirt track to the public toilet, and as they opened the door, the first thing to hit them was the awful stench. The second thing to hit them was the sight that I described above.

Immediately, my sister stopped hopping about in desperation, stood very calmly and said: "I don't need to go any more."

And she didn't. The urge was completely and utterly gone. The fear of having to use one of those things hadn't scared the crap out of her, it had scared it back in!
(Sun 30th Mar 2008, 15:39, More)

» Unexpected Nudity

More unexpected for him than everyone else.
Every year, my 6th form college holds a charity fashion show, organised and run by students, and it's great fun. This year, I was on the organising committee, as well as modelling.
As assistant director I was asked by the supervising teacher if I thought we (the shop models) would need any supervision on the nights in our dressing rooms - mainly for the lads. I assured them we could cope, and we were left to our own devices.

Everything went swimmingly apart from one little problem we had with the boys.
Now, bear in mind it takes a certain type of 17/18 year old boy to audition as a catwalk model. A type which is usually very confident, a type who loves himself more than a little bit.
Almost all our male models were just like this. And would they keep their clothes on? No they would not.
I'm not talking just wandering round topless here, that was happening too, but believe me, not a one of us girls was going to complain about that. I'm talking running round the dressing rooms more naked than a nudist in the bath.

During the interval, we were confined to the two adjoining classrooms we were using as changing room and all the models had congregated in the lads room to watch and laugh at the three worst offenders have a wail of a time.
On was on the teachers desk, with only a helium cannister to preserve his dignity.
Another was dancing on top on a filing cabinet, hand over his bits.
And the third, who we shall call Matt, was stood in the corner, a balloon covering his man parts.

Unfortunately I can't claim the idea behind this one. It was my friend Max who leaned over, pointed at Matt and whispered "Don't you just wish you had a pin right now?" And that, dear readers, is when the metaphorical light bulb above my head sparked into action.
There was a tin of dress pins in the girl's room for last minute adjustments. Everyone was too distracted by the flashers to notice me slip out to fetch one.

Pin in hand, I sidled up to Matt. I hadn't shown much interest in him before this, so he looked at he funny and asked me if I was sure I wanted to get that close.
"Oh yes" I replied. "Definately."
And in one fluid movement, I flicked out my pin and popped his balloon, fully exposing him to the entire room and giving him one hell of a shock. The look on his face was priceless.

Best part was, it was all being filmed by another model, who, in a moment of beautiful coincidence, just happened to zoom his phone in on Matt's crotch seconds before my arm flashed across screen, capturing everything.

Length? I couldn't say, but the balloon wasn't very big.
(Sun 31st May 2009, 19:58, More)