Imagine pretending to live in France.
'Popped out to the creperie tonight, but not before Jean-Michel had come round and offered me coffee from a bowl. Oh la la, I told him, nice écharpe, is that for the winter?'
Imagine pretending to live in France.
'Popped out to the creperie tonight, but not before Jean-Michel had come round and offered me coffee from a bowl. Oh la la, I told him, nice écharpe, is that for the winter?'
My worst pissing and shitting stories happened in consecutive days at Womad festival, 2008.
The first full morning my dad demonstrated "the right way to pour a gin and tonic", which turned out to be half and half. In a pint glass. I was 16 at this point, and hardly a seasoned boozer.
I got lost from my dad and his girlfriend at around 12pm, and spent the rest of the day staggering round the campsite, avoiding crusties and drum circles and shit. I don't remember much of the day, except going for a piss in a portaloo in this designated area with about 40 of them, and 200 levellers fans waiting to use them. You had to climb up a couple of stars to get to each individual cubicle. I was so battered that I lost my balance, and fell backwards with enough force to open the locked door (or, more likely, I forgot to lock it), and fall backwards onto the floor, with my nob out, presumably still pissing. I don't know what kind of reaction I got, but despite being an awkward enough piss shy dork to wait 10 minutes for a cubicle at west brom games to avoid the TROUGH, I was still unfazed enough to just get up, go back into the toilet, and flush and wash my hands.
The next day I felt so rough I just slept all day in my tent. Woke up at about 2am absolutely desperate for a shit, realised I wasn't gonna make it, so did a horrible wet booze poo into the only available receptacle, a tesco carrier bag. I forgot they have little holes in them to stop stupid children suffocating. Used a sock for paper. Only had the nerve to carry the bag to the bins once the sound of acoustic guitars had died down, at around 5 am, so I just sat silently with nothing for company except a bag of poo slowly leaking onto the previous day's t shirt. The following morning I had an exchange similar to homer and millhouse's in that simpsons episode with my dad
"it smells like shit in there, igor"
"...no it doesn't".
I've not been to a proper music festival in my life, and womad 2008 is definitely a big factor.
I shit in a bag at Bonnaroo once because like fuck am I hovering a portypotty on Day 4.
Saint was definitely a weirdo by the way. Even just his bizarre obsession with Messi not being very good was enough to label him as such.
I told one of my shitting stories already (when I shit myself going to work when I had flu) but I do have another.
A few years ago I did some summer work for British Sugar (when my dad worked for them) collecting soil samples from fields. I drove out to one one morning and when I got there I was desperate for a shit, but obviously in the middle of nowhere with no hope of a toilet in miles.
I got in the back of the van, lined a big bucket with a bag, shit in there and tied it up. Then I realised the back doors to the van couldn't be opened from the inside. Panic stations. Was trying to Google how to get out a van from the inside, but no internet. Couldn't even grovellingly call someone as there was no mobile signal. I thought I would just be able to climb through the front and get out the door but there was some metal cage setup to stop the heavy stuff in the back from coming through and smashing shit up.
Thought I was going to die there and be found with a bag of my own shit.
Eventually I managed to disassemble the cage thing and get out the front.
A couple of days later I happened to turn up at one field at the same time as another guy who was collecting different samples. He had the side doors of the back of his van open. Was just about to say to him "oh your van's different to minez it's got side doors" when I saw mine did too. And they opened from the inside Fml
Meeting Sama at a club, going to get a drink and finding he'd left and finding out on TTH that it was because he'd pissed himself and literally jumped the steel barriers to get out of there was a highlight.
Him turning up at my door to watch a Newcastle game a week after Halloween with silver paint on him from a robot costume was good too.
Not submitting Sama to the weirdo club, he was actually incredibly normal like every other TTHer I've met.
It's possible I was doing Foe a disservice when I said he thought he'd be fine because of the elastic. He said he thought it would be fine because he was 'wearing trunks', which I took to mean trunk boxers, the only possibly waterproof properties of which even a drunk person could assume would be the elastic. It's possible though that he meant swimming trunks, which would be even funnier.
@Ian the funniest part is definitely that he's an engineer who couldn't find the light switch or door in his own bedroom.
Which TTHers have actually met each other?
I want a spreadsheet
Whatever combination of things he got. For the sake of argument, let's say he and his other half were sharing a sweet and sour chicken and a beef in black bean with some egg fried rice and a tub of chow mein. He's getting all of that shit and mixing it into one heap of mixed-togetherness.
I was so appalled when I found out I did a fred for it and everything:
https://www.thethirdhalf.co.uk/showt...-do-you-eat-it
Yeah. That's not ok. 2 separate piles are needed there.
I’ve met GS, Harold, and Bam. We go for a swift half every second Friday.
I've met a lot of TTHers, but none for some time now. Ones I can remember:
Lewis
Amigo
Jord (RIP in pieces)
dela (same)
Henry
Raoul
Kiko
Foe
GS
Sama
Luca
elth
Most of them were when I lived in London, don't get there much these days. All of them were nice, from what I can remember. Even Henry.
I have met Floyd (twice), Amigo, 'Jord', Randrew, and manc sean (twice). I also saw Richie outside of an exam once, and he looks like a ginger Big Bird.
I've only met Lewis. I've prolly walked past one or two others in Norwich at some point.
I've been in the same club as John, who saw me but didn't say hello, the cunt, and the same pub as Wullie, which we only found out about retrospectively.
I can't remember if Lewis ordered milk or not when we met, I don't think he did y'know. I do remember him announcing to the bar girl that it was "a bit fucking morbid in here".
I had to buy Lewis a milk the second time (the first time I think he stuck to coke while me and Jord got hammered, and Amigo didn't understand the social aspect of drinking liquids, so his throat remained dry).
Every other meet I think involved getting slaughtered, which is the best way to do it.
I only realised it was you about five minutes later, having spent that time trying to place your face and wondering who I could possibly know who was a big enough pleb to have painted little 90s acid rave patterns all over their face in neon paint, so you're the cunt here.
Spikey
I assume the lists being posted are ranked in order of weirdness.
The neon paint was so his friends didn't lose him.
Me and Fandan were in the same nerdy beer shop which we realised later when he described me being a nerd on here.
Listen, right. Those hand prints were created by a heterosexual man who ended the night rolling around the floor in an Eccy fueled embrace, with the most Mancunian man I've ever met, whilst his future wife watched on. His enthusiasm was not to be quibbled with. He now owns a record label/agency and has put out music for Loco Dice and Dave Seaman.
I could have been an album cover.
Which one are you?
The one with the BIGGEST HEAD.
*90% hair.
That would have been my guess.
I saw Mellin outside the Bristol Pear (where I worked as a chef as a student), but wasn't sure enough to know it was him to say anything. It was only afterwards on TD when he said he saw me that I knew for sure.
The next day, the bar staff told me that some pisshead was asking if the Man United fan was working in the kitchen.
Not sure if that counts.
I've met phonics and mokbull. Both top lads.
These brushes with Mellin, rather than actual meetings, sound like dodgy alibis.
I once saw an Indian man who was the spitting image of Baz (with a different skin tone ofc), does that count?
Of all the jokes you could have done about meeting people off the internet.
Tokey. Computer wizard.
He was a nutter. So was IJ.
Remember when I came second or something in one of these "best poster of the board" things we did back around then - this when I was just a little wilder - and everyone were like "yeah he's good but nah is he that good!?"
But I was pretty damn good. Old merits
I wanna go on the piss with Jim.
Lads.
I was drunk. I couldn’t find the light switch in my new flat in Shetland and I over estimated the capability of my boxer trunks.
Shame.
Not even the stupidest thing I did in Shetland either, but boy do I regret missing the finding the light switch whilst in the dark drunk class at engineering school.
What was the stupidest thing you did in Shetland?
Entered a Biggest Head competition.