I had a fairly eventful weekend, thanks for asking. I've been on the brink of death since Friday, when I had to leave work because of the debilitating illness known as 'manflu'. Standing in the pissing rain for what seemed like years whilst waiting for my youngest daughter to get out of her school didn't aid my recovery, either.
It was also my eldest daughter's thirteenth birthday last week, so, as a treat, I took her to Villa Park to watch us stuff Charlton Pathetic two-nil. On the way, a nasty soap-dodging bluenose bastard called us 'scum', probably because we were wearing claret and blue paraphernalia, which was lovely of him. The fucking germ. This was kind of balanced out about five minutes later when a bunch of Special Brew chugging paraffin lamps shouted 'Up The Villa!' at us. Oh, the joys of Birmingham city centre on matchdays!
At the match itself, something remarkable happened. As I'd gone to the match with my good friend Pete, there was beer drinking involved (well, I was poorly and had climbed up about six thousand, four hundred and seventy-eight stairs to get to the section of the ground we were sitting at, so I needed refreshment!) so at half-time my bladder was about the size of a baby elephant. So I went to relieve myself. I was so full of urine my usual shy-bladder syndrome was disabled; Sing Hosanna! I could piss freely at the urinal! Whilst I was there, a man (well it was the Gents') was making really wet noises. My curiousity was piqued. I had to look. This man had a penis at least twice the length of mine ( so it must've been at least 20" long!) and instead of shaking it like the rest of us, he was spin drying his with a kind of helicopter-type motion. It was like he was trying to throw a grapple hook. But it was the sound that got me, it was like the wet, slapping noises a fish might make if it's flying against a wall. Anyway, that's enough talking about a stranger's penis.
Another weird thing happened on the evening. Another friend of mine whose Birthday it is soon tried to tell me Moonraker was the best Bond movie! I had to verbally slap him down. That film has a pigeon doing a double-take in it! For fuck's sake.
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9 comments:
Chortle.
although i have the somewhat controversial opinion that roger moore is the best james bond, moonraker is crap (trying to jump on the star wars bandwagon was probably not the best idea). but i do like cheesy bits in otherwise serious films.
leeds beat birmingham too so its all good.
Glad you enjoyed your cake, Jonni. It's the small things...
Jemima, are you chortling at my post or at Jonni's multiple posts of the same comment?
Hi Steve. I was glad to hear Leeds had won on Saturday as well, for some strange reason! Roger Moore is rubbish, though. The three worst 007 movies-Moonraker, Golden Gun and View To A Kill all have Mr. Eyebrow as Bond.
P.S. I like how 'anonymous' thinks my description of the wet sounds a stranger's penis makes is 'very nice'. Take your spam and stick it up your bollocks!
It's also got Britt Ekland in it! (saying that though, she was also in Get Carter and The Wicker Man which are great films; but she was rubbish in them, she's just there to take her bra off. Actually,that's kinda commendable.)
Hervé was so ashamed of Golden Gun he killed himself.
I was laughing at the helicopter and the slight exaggeration I sensed regarding stairs. I've been to Villa Park and there aren't THAT many there.
Well...that was one of the most disturbing yet amusing things I've read in a while...
...seriously...I don't care what sounds you hear...eyes stay firmly fixed forward in a urinal....
yes but live and let die is the best one.
i once stood next to a guy who stood there with his hands on his hips not controlling his johnson other than with his mind and his internal muscles.
(we were both having a piss by the way).
Live and Let Die is the best Moore Bond film (or is it Spy Who Loved Me?), but it's not the best Bond film, in my opinion it's either Goldfinger or OHMSS.
I remember a similar urinal incident when I was drinking with my Dad. The man in question didn't even get on the step and was also pissing hands-free in a 'sprinkler' type of way. After raining piss on the back of Dad's trousers, my Dad promptly turned round and rained fists down on the hapless pisser's fizzog.
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