Today's whimsy

Richard Marx's "Hazard".



25 year, all that video evidence and still no fucking conviction.

If you play a guitar, flute, whatever, in the house, you're just playing an instrument, a diligent practiser.

Now, step through the back door and play iin the garden. You fucking freak, you become a hippy, some subversive or even "that mad fucker who plays the flute in the garden, does he think he's a fucking elf or something?".

Consequently, the only conclusion I can draw is that society collapses when the back door is opened.

Doctor Who is a woman
Doctor Who is a time traveller

In which case, Doctor Who has always been a woman. That's how time travel works.

So what's the fucking fuss.

Incidentally, first Doctor I've wanted to see naked

Spoiler:

Women are taking over the UK.
Female prime minister
119 female labour MPs
Woman in charge of the met police.
Female Doctor Who
TV news, sport, radio and weather packed with 'em
The cunts are everywhere.
They should be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen.

There's more of them, Tone, and frankly, it doesn't matter whether man or woman, the UK is run by cunts for cunts.

Still in a huge minority on screen though, except for little corners they give them to fuck about in. Disability is the same.

NotBert wrote: the UK is run by cunts for cunts.

Must remember to put up Spanky Dave later. Much as I despise mobile phones, they have their uses when you want to take a photo because of something you've seen in a public toilet.

Last sentence was crafted for gag purposes but I will admit, it's made me a little bit handsy with myself...

NotBert wrote:Richard Marx's "Hazard".



25 year, all that video evidence and still no fucking conviction.

This is a beautiful song.

Saw a personal ad in a toilet.

"I WANT A MAN WHO CAN SATISFY ME!  DAVE..  SPANK ME!  07468539875 xx"

A few things:
(i)  All in capitals.  You might NEED it, pal, but don't be desperate, it's not pretty.  Stop shouting, it's a public toilet, people might "hear"...
(ii)  The extra full stop.  The "E" looks overwritten, like he might have been considering "David" (too stuffy, most likely on viewing) or "Davy" (too paedo) and maybe that's how he came to dot it twice.  His punctuation is pretty tidy otherwise.
(iii)  Two kisses.  A bit late for that after the corporal punishment plea, hun.
(iv)  The script is on a seemingly difficult-to-remove sticker.  Our man isn't a scribbler - he prepared his ad before he left home.  In how many other paces is he putting out feelers?
However, most importantly, point (v)
(iv)  Who is your target audience, Dave?  If you are unfamiliar with Liverpool, it is the only unitary authority in the UK that provides no public toilets.  And so Dave's ad was in... the public access toilets in the foyer of the Royal Liverpool Hospital.  Think about it.  His target audience is blokes supported by a retort stand and drip, with a chest drain, emphysema and a suicidal wish to walk beyond the yellow line and smoke a couple of Benson.  How the fuck can these wheezing wrecks spank him, and more importantly, why does he want to be beaten by the sick and infirm?  It's like the bloke who did the same in a blockhouse shithouse at the bottom of Moel Famau by a bus stop that must see three buses a week.  He must want a fucking from a 50-yer-old real ale drinker with a beard and a walking stick with curvy badges that say "Grasmere".

So I rang and asked.  Best wank I ever had.

*The number, btw, is genuine. I took a photo...

Another toilet whimsy today.

Was at a school gym after hours (cricket practice for my son) and went the toilet. Having closed the door and turned around, I was confronted by a pre-teen marker pen scrawl on the locking mechanism which said "If you touch this knob you are gay".

Well there's a dilemma. I've nothing about my person with which I can open the door - I'm in a fucking toilet, come on... - and so it appears that I'm gay or stuck there until someone opens the door for me. A dilemma. Then after about fifteen minutes, I cursed my own stupidity and opened the door. My rationale is fuck it, I'll suck a dick or some such to get out, I just hope I get a wank out of it, no reacharound, we're not into that. That's the beauty of aging - not only do you develop a wisdom through experience, you also take your jollies from whoever's offering...

Two things that are dying out:
Public toilets

and

Floral clocks.

I am convinced that floral clocks are/were powered by urine-driven turbines. Only explanation

Notes for your diary

25/03/2020 - this marks the day Elvis is longer dead than he ever lived.
07/02/2021 - same deal, John Lennon
11/07/1998 - Hendrix. Who has in fact been dead longer than the either of the two above were alive as well

NotBert wrote:Saw a personal ad in a toilet.

"I WANT A MAN WHO CAN SATISFY ME!  DAVE..  SPANK ME!  07468539875 xx"

A few things:
(i)  All in capitals.  You might NEED it, pal, but don't be desperate, it's not pretty.  Stop shouting, it's a public toilet, people might "hear"...
(ii)  The extra full stop.  The "E" looks overwritten, like he might have been considering "David" (too stuffy, most likely on viewing) or "Davy" (too paedo) and maybe that's how he came to dot it twice.  His punctuation is pretty tidy otherwise.
(iii)  Two kisses.  A bit late for that after the corporal punishment plea, hun.
(iv)  The script is on a seemingly difficult-to-remove sticker.  Our man isn't a scribbler - he prepared his ad before he left home.  In how many other paces is he putting out feelers?
However, most importantly, point (v)
(iv)  Who is your target audience, Dave?  If you are unfamiliar with Liverpool, it is the only unitary authority in the UK that provides no public toilets.  And so Dave's ad was in... the public access toilets in the foyer of the Royal Liverpool Hospital.  Think about it.  His target audience is blokes supported by a retort stand and drip, with a chest drain, emphysema and a suicidal wish to walk beyond the yellow line and smoke a couple of Benson.  How the fuck can these wheezing wrecks spank him, and more importantly, why does he want to be beaten by the sick and infirm?  It's like the bloke who did the same in a blockhouse shithouse at the bottom of Moel Famau by a bus stop that must see three buses a week.  He must want a fucking from a 50-yer-old real ale drinker with a beard and a walking stick with curvy badges that say "Grasmere".

So I rang and asked.  Best wank I ever had.

*The number, btw, is genuine.  I took a photo...

Spanky Dave's ad has been removed. Now, a new one...

Thursday I had business that involved crossing Birmingham New Street to Other Midlands.

I was due out of Liverpool on the 09.34
At roughly 07.00, someone walked on to the tracks and was killed between Wolverhampton and Birmingham, so on my initial leg of the route.
My train (and a clutch before it) was cancelled and the next (10.04) was earmarked as delayed.
It eventually left on time, having arrived from Wolverhampton twenty-odd minutes late, but nine minutes before it'd leave as a Birmingham service.
Effectively my delay was a half hour and it stripped out a bit of wiggle room I had to change and get to my destination, but I was still comfortable for time.

I was overnighting.

Friday I was due to run into Birmingham New Street shortly after 13.00.
At 12.56 (time given by a train guard) someone walked on the tracks at Marston Green, so the other side of Birmingham and on the initial leg of my return.
Trains were immediately stacked up, cancelled or delayed until further notice.
I was rerouted to Nuneaton with a 45 minute wait to connect to Crewe
The Crewe train that left Nuneaton fifteen minutes before I arrived was delayed 25 mins (unrelated), so I was there for the delayed one, brief wait instead
Arrived at Crewe 90 minutes later at XX.45, and the Liverpool train was due out at the same time, so I'd missed that.
Except it was delayed 5 minutes, so I was on that as well.

My point is that the two approaches to Birmingham I had were sabotaged by, I believe, Frederick Forsyth for a novel.  I am apparently of strategic vaue so cannot be wiped out, but I had to be prevented from getting to Birmingham and staged suicides to make it look accidental was the way chosen to do this.  They failed.

If Frederick Forsyth dies in suspicious circumstances over the next two days, I will be sending a package to my legal people only be opened in the event of my untimely demise...

Remember when the purple head of your penis, which is referred to as your purple-headed warrior or some such nowadays, was referred to as your "red end"?

When did the blue get added?

All the Daves I have ever known have been weirdos and that includes my dad

missyj wrote:All the Daves I have ever known have been weirdos  and that includes my dad

What has made you say that?

The post about a toilet trader earlier in this thread

missyj wrote:The post about a toilet trader earlier in this thread

Better clarify here my dad was not a perv of any sort he was just a little eccentric