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Things that have happened,that make you think im too old for this.............
- Thread starter Insel affe
- Start date
John Bumlick
Banned
i knocked one out to a picture of Marina Hyde the other day...
Oi Bumlick, how come you haven't stuck wheezy Uncle Hiney's head on that special Reading fan, yet?
Would illustrate this lovely tale brilliantly...
Would illustrate this lovely tale brilliantly...
jakarta
Well-known member
Final Day of my last Offshore Survival Course a couple of years back was a Friday & it was too late to get a flight back. All those who had passed the course were very happy boys of course and it was decided to have a night out on on the piss down Union Street.
By the end of the night I realised that myself and a dozen pints no longer get along as good buddies, nor do I like eating curry around midnight any more.
While I kept it all down my hangover the next day was the worst I can remember - I dont recall getting the taxi to Dyce next morning, flying back down or much of the following weekend except the look on Mrs Jakartas face at Gatwick when she picked me up
Thinking back it probably was no more than nine or ten pints......
By the end of the night I realised that myself and a dozen pints no longer get along as good buddies, nor do I like eating curry around midnight any more.
While I kept it all down my hangover the next day was the worst I can remember - I dont recall getting the taxi to Dyce next morning, flying back down or much of the following weekend except the look on Mrs Jakartas face at Gatwick when she picked me up
Thinking back it probably was no more than nine or ten pints......
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Banned
You win.
Storer68
New member
John Bumlick
Banned
a quick trip to nsc gold...
'Hiney Art' - Page 6 - North Stand Chat
and look at the post after mine in that thread. why the obsession with hiney on a reading fan...?
Durlston
Heavy XTC user
- Jul 15, 2009
- 10,220
Being the one that has to collect the jackets from the cloakroom when the club closes at stupid o'clock. Wherever you go it always takes at least 30 - 40 minutes and you think is this really worth it? Ears are ringing, there's a fight started just in front of you, failed to pull, absolutely shitfaced and no chance of getting a taxi without being fleeced severely.
Other than that it's usually a good night!
Other than that it's usually a good night!
Franks Wild Years
New member
Just revisited 'Hiney Art'. Without doubt the funniest ever thread ever.
Go on treat yerself n 'av a gander.
Go on treat yerself n 'av a gander.
A recent one was at Glastonbury and a picture of Parker appeared on a big screen. Young lad next to me said "who's that", "Parker from Thunderbirds" I replied. "what's Thunderbirds" was the response.
KNC
Well-known member
OK, I have just about come to terms with the SHAME.
It was a bright Summers Day and the YUMMY MUMMIES were out in force to cheer on their little darlings as they forced their slightly overweight bodies into various sacks and hoops whilst carrying small beanbags.
For the Dads, the Mums race is always a highlight.
There are the 40-something Tennis Mums, who are convinced they look GREAT in a tennis dress designed for a 20 year old. They shake their orange legs and the Dads watch the cellulite ripple slightly in the morning Sun.
There are the Earth Mothers who hitch their hand-stitched denim skirts up to reveal legs that are more blue than brown and who are sure that the bowl of super-charged muesli they WOLFED for breakfast will turn them into a finely-tuned athlete.
Finally there are the working Mums who don't really care about anything, as long as their rucksacks are full of little snacks for their darlings to NOSH on as they try and feel guilty for NEVER being there for the School run.
A bonus for the Dads is the Year 3 teacher who has tipped up in a tight tracksuit for the day and we realise that we should really pay far more attention to her at Parents Evening.
Then comes the Dad's race...........
Normally I don't give a shit about all that because you get the usual parade of KNOBS who think they are Linford Christie, David Beckham and George Clooney rolled into one. They STRUT around in a pathetic display of preening oneupmanship, desperately hoping to show people that beneath the slightly paunchy, middle-aged exterior, there beats the pulsing, finely-tuned heartbeat of a top ATHLETE.
On this occasion however, I allowed myself to be CONVINCED and lined up at the start. I did a few stretches but didn't want to give the impression that I was also one of the said midlife crisis men. I thought 'I've played a bit of football and am in decent shape for my age - this should be OK'.
The gun (more of a SHOUT really) went off, and I set off, pumping my firm thighs and slightly weedy arms in an attempt to be a WINNER.
About halfway down the track, I can only assume that a sniper was LURKING on the grassy knoll behind the Year 1 play area. I felt the bullets SLAP into the back of my legs and as the muscles went into SPASM, I lurched forward, much as you imagine Stephen Hawking would do if he rose up and ran. I thought, 'I HAVE to go on, for my CHILDREN' and shuffled down the track, across the line and then COLLAPSED in a spasticated heap on the floor.
Mrs Hiney came running up and I am sure she was stifling a GIGGLE. "Are you alright sweet?" she tittered. "No problem - I meant that" I replied, but then felt my vision going as the blood that I needed, rushed away from my brain to my legs, which were still twitching.
"You're a bit pale darling" said Justine as she helped me to a chair where I could try and regain my dignity. The one consolation was the concern showed by some of the more presentable Mums, but I could see the HILARITY lurking behind their smiles.
So, as I said, a f***ing NIGHTMARE.
Again, superb, Hiney
Along with Half man Half Biscuits, 'Following Albion in the Eighties', thread, two of the funniest musings I have read in a long time.
pasty
A different kind of pasty
Having too many candles on my birthday cake on Tuesday to blow out in one breath 
Spun Cuppa
Thanks Greens :(
The galling thought that three sixteen year olds would add up to my age, and if I was lucky enough to pull such a triumvirate, I'd probably have a Sean Connery 12 seconds in aboard number one 
Thankfully the Doc has put me on Bromide on the pretext of it being good for my nerves, so a new found interest in collecting records has emerged...
7" Ding-A-Ling anybody?
Thankfully the Doc has put me on Bromide on the pretext of it being good for my nerves, so a new found interest in collecting records has emerged...
7" Ding-A-Ling anybody?
alan partridge
Active member
OK, I have just about come to terms with the SHAME.
It was a bright Summers Day and the YUMMY MUMMIES were out in force to cheer on their little darlings as they forced their slightly overweight bodies into various sacks and hoops whilst carrying small beanbags.
For the Dads, the Mums race is always a highlight.
There are the 40-something Tennis Mums, who are convinced they look GREAT in a tennis dress designed for a 20 year old. They shake their orange legs and the Dads watch the cellulite ripple slightly in the morning Sun.
There are the Earth Mothers who hitch their hand-stitched denim skirts up to reveal legs that are more blue than brown and who are sure that the bowl of super-charged muesli they WOLFED for breakfast will turn them into a finely-tuned athlete.
Finally there are the working Mums who don't really care about anything, as long as their rucksacks are full of little snacks for their darlings to NOSH on as they try and feel guilty for NEVER being there for the School run.
A bonus for the Dads is the Year 3 teacher who has tipped up in a tight tracksuit for the day and we realise that we should really pay far more attention to her at Parents Evening.
Then comes the Dad's race...........
Normally I don't give a shit about all that because you get the usual parade of KNOBS who think they are Linford Christie, David Beckham and George Clooney rolled into one. They STRUT around in a pathetic display of preening oneupmanship, desperately hoping to show people that beneath the slightly paunchy, middle-aged exterior, there beats the pulsing, finely-tuned heartbeat of a top ATHLETE.
On this occasion however, I allowed myself to be CONVINCED and lined up at the start. I did a few stretches but didn't want to give the impression that I was also one of the said midlife crisis men. I thought 'I've played a bit of football and am in decent shape for my age - this should be OK'.
The gun (more of a SHOUT really) went off, and I set off, pumping my firm thighs and slightly weedy arms in an attempt to be a WINNER.
About halfway down the track, I can only assume that a sniper was LURKING on the grassy knoll behind the Year 1 play area. I felt the bullets SLAP into the back of my legs and as the muscles went into SPASM, I lurched forward, much as you imagine Stephen Hawking would do if he rose up and ran. I thought, 'I HAVE to go on, for my CHILDREN' and shuffled down the track, across the line and then COLLAPSED in a spasticated heap on the floor.
Mrs Hiney came running up and I am sure she was stifling a GIGGLE. "Are you alright sweet?" she tittered. "No problem - I meant that" I replied, but then felt my vision going as the blood that I needed, rushed away from my brain to my legs, which were still twitching.
"You're a bit pale darling" said Justine as she helped me to a chair where I could try and regain my dignity. The one consolation was the concern showed by some of the more presentable Mums, but I could see the HILARITY lurking behind their smiles.
So, as I said, a f***ing NIGHTMARE.
That should win a prize
