This. I am 6 feet away from one and I don’t think we have played in over a year. It’s literally a giant cat bed/storage.Quote:
Originally Posted by niko_cee
It’s one of the things I really wanted too.
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This. I am 6 feet away from one and I don’t think we have played in over a year. It’s literally a giant cat bed/storage.Quote:
Originally Posted by niko_cee
It’s one of the things I really wanted too.
I really want one, but it involves spending thousands in the garden to do it.
https://www.gamesroomcompany.com/pro...QaAv7FEALw_wcB
I'll take two.
We had a proper pub one in the garage as kids. My brother asked for one for his birthday like the dickhead he always was, and somehow the old man knew someone who knew someone who knew someone with a pub who was getting rid of one. It felt like we got loads of use out of it for a few years, and it became a bit of a social hub for the twats in the street, but by the time we were teenagers it was collecting dust.
My Dad used to have one from a pub or something and it used to take 20p to release the balls. It was great fun but it was barely used by the time I was a teenager and eventually he gave it away for free to a neighbour.
What the fuck sort of teenagers were you two? My teenage years were when I played the most pool in my life.
N64 > Pool.Quote:
Originally Posted by Boydy
I was also given a 60cc quad bike when I was 8 which took up a lot of my time when I was at his place.
The two I played on in people's houses inevitably suffered from having one corner that was too tight to play in, and the host being enough of a cock to keep playing you into it.
We had one in our old staff room which was excellent though.
My dad had one in the conservatory for years so him and my brother are much better than me. I haven't played in years since I moved away from the pub which had it but spent many a year playing.
TTH Pool tournament is the one.
I wouldn't have a pool table, but if I lived somewhere with room for a snooker table I would undoubtedly get one (no matter the cost) and use it constantly, to the detriment of my career/social life/etc.
My eventual plan is to build an outbuilding for my home office that will definitely include a pool table and bar.
My mate from school's family were absolutely minted and had a room with a snooker table in it, which was used by his older brothers to hustle visiting idiots into playing £10 a point games.
This would be me. One of the places we visited my dad when he was working the company clubhouse had a pool table and during the day when everybody was working I had it to myself 99% of the time and was quite happy doing that for hours.Quote:
Originally Posted by Jimmy Floyd
The place where I lived in London had a pool table as they grabbed one for £50 just before I moved in. It got plenty of use as there were always people coming round who loved the novelty of it. Very few games were played without a drink, however drinking at home without a pool table has been insufferably boring since leaving.
If you've got space for it (that house had three living areas) then I'd say it's worth having one. As someone who generally can't sit still I loved it.
Fake sums on social media, and I don’t mean the ones Lofty comments on.
SURVIVOR LED TOOLS = MEANINGFUL SOLUTIONS + VICTIM EMPOWERMENT.
Like, what? It’s usually unnecessarily added onto the bottom of an otherwise decent comment too, that has already explained what they’re trying to say. Dumb sums for dummies.
Skill share.
It might well be the best service in all of the World ever, but I've paid for Youtube so I don't want to see adverts for it embedded in creator's videos.
I came to my office for an appointment I had at three. It is now 3:09 ad the person isn't here. I was going to chimp out about that, but then I just noticed that my appointment is tomorrow, not today.
:DQuote:
Originally Posted by Pepe
Good work.
Ah, the Dutch version of three o'clock on Thursday.
Just before (after) the weekend
:D
And now today it's raining so I might have to cancel.
Why? Are you meeting Mogwai?
My mother in law managed that at the doctors the other day. Was waiting for nearly an hour before complaining, only to be informed she was a day early. Then came back with 'well I hope I wont be waiting an hour tomorrow!' Which obviously opened the door for 'well you wont be because your appointment is tomorrow'. She admitted it wasn't her finest hour.
:DQuote:
Originally Posted by Lofty
Was that meant to be bants or was she seething and hadn't thought this comeback through?
If she'd seen Dr Pepe all would have been well.
She is an absolute loose cannon so maximum seethe gone wrong.Quote:
Originally Posted by Ian
I'm having difficulty understanding how your mum and dad were ever together Lofty. :D
They have some... erm... differences.
Mother in law this one, she's like a hybrid of Hyacinth Bucket and Peggy Mitchell.
My mum shared my dad's hippy dippy interests, then she grew up and he didn't.
Ahhhh... OK, that makes sense. I had Neil out of the Young Ones sitting down for dinner with Miss Trunchball in my head.
Is it not standard practice to check-in/tell the reception folk at the doctors when you arrive for an appointment?
Not if it's in the office you work in.
Yeah fair play that's incredible :lol:Quote:
Originally Posted by Lofty
I really hope they keep her waiting now.
Says here your appointment was yesterday...
:DQuote:
Originally Posted by niko_cee
That would be an incredible end to the story.
Felt vaguely ropey all day, just tired and run down and that, start of a cold maybe (there's one going round these parts, or maybe the other well known illness going round).
Get home and quickly force dinner down and get dressed, ready to go get a train with a mate to meet up with some other mates to watch our other mate's gig. Mate.
About 25 minutes before the absolute last moment I could leave and still get the train I suddenly felt a massive wave of disgustingness heading down my torso at great speed, and I just about managed to get to the toilet in time, before a wave of brown mucusy liquid shit flew out of my arse, the first of three poos in half an hour.
The worst part about gastro stuff (not the sort smiffy posted the photos of) is that sods law means I'll probably feel absolutely fine now and will have stayed in for no reason, but if I did go out you just know I'd end up having to poo during the gig and having inspected the pub online, it's almost certainly the sort of place where one bogs clogged up with someone else's bangers and mash, and the other one has no lock, seat or toilet paper. Having actual diagnosable IBS must be fucking nads.
Good old bangers and mash, a staple on many a train toilet. I know a lad once who shit in a carrier bag in a back street between pubs on a pub crawl, the pubs in question were 5 minutes walk apart.
I once shat diarrhea in a female toilet at a girls netball match. Then realised there was no toilet paper, so waddled out into the girls changing room, found a parish magazine and used that to wipe my arse. Then realised the flush was broken on the toilet.
Have not legged it so fast in a long time. I still wonder what they must have thought when coming back into the changing rooms.
I did that in a tesco carrier bag in a tent at WOMAD in 2008.Quote:
Originally Posted by Lofty
When we were packing our stuff away at the end of the festival to go home, my dad and I had a very similar interaction to Homer and Millouse:
https://frinkiac.com/meme/S05E07/177...lUIERPRVNOJ1Qu
I had to go commando for half a night in Bangor one time after having to leave my kacks in the cistern. Marine Court staff, I salute you.
:moop: I drunkenly convinced myself I'd shat myself in a pub I go into all the time. I think I just had a really sweaty arse, but drunk logic led me to trying to flush my pants down the toilet "just in case". The perfect crime, until about 30 mins later when the scary matriarchal landlady came storming back from the toilets shouting "who on earth tried to flush their pants down the toilet?", all of my mates immediately stared at me and demanded I lift up my jeans and show the top of my pants. Bollocks.Quote:
Originally Posted by Giggles
A lad I worked with ditched a pair of soiled boxers in a Las Vegas McDonalds toilet. When he went to buy a replacement pair, the lass asked, "Do you want a bag for them?" and his response was, "No, I need them now."
She looked disgusted with him.
:D excellent
My mate shat himself in the queue for the Vampire at Chessington. I kept his secret for 20 years.
Then he made me his Best Man and I obviously had no choice to tell all of his family and friends at that point.
He had 20 years to come up with a better story, to be honest. It's all on him.
This is the way.
I've shit myself once, when I was in 6th form at school. I was on my way home, and within minutes knew it was coming. It was a mile walk home, and I walked as briskly as possible to get back home.
As I got to the top of my street, it started, and I clenched my cheeks as hard as I possibly could to stop it - which somehow managed to contain it.
I waddled down the road to my house, then just as I got to the bottom of my garden path, my makeshift arse-gate buckled and my boxers were absolutely filled with diarrhoea.
So near, yet so far.
Pissed myself 3 days ago 6 inches from the door after getting caught short going for a cigarette downstairs.
This is not a little thing but we don't have a massive things that fuck you off thread, so here we are:
I did my shopping yesterday. As I reached the butcher, a sign saying 'Closed, we retired' received me. One of the few decent things in this fucking dump and now it is closed. All that is left for me is the $25 pizza (well, and a job.) Might have to move soon.