Came across a few oul holiday vids and have decided to bore y'all senseless
More to follow
Monday, September 10, 2007
Thursday, September 06, 2007
The one about size
Some of the following may be of an explicit nature and if your easily offended go back to the porn site you were looking at before here. Then again, it may not be. Im not sure as I havent written it yet.
Tuesday night there was a little (Here we go!) debate raging regarding the size of the male baby making machine. 67% of listeners voted in our text poll, stating size does indeed matter. Some callers even pointing out that the bigger the better. Which is all well and good, but how many of you out there fancy falling on something similar to an ESB pole. Maybe some do, but c'mon it cant be much fun if its tickling your lungs now, can it? Ever since men have been wandering around a prehistoric pana, they've been concerned about the size of their club, go with me on this one, who knows what they called it back then. In my humble opinion, the people who they are showing it to, be it male or female, are they issue. Most relationships start off in a nightclub. Then there's the obligatory trip to the cinema, which also involves meeting up outside Virgin or Argos. A few days later, plenty of fumbling goes on and then drinks. Its over the drinks that problems can start for the male. Most conversations go like this....
Male: "So, ah, fuck it, that was a fairly decent shag last night wasn't it?"
Female: "Oh yeah, twas amazing"
Man now thinks that his 90 seconds of shaking his arse on top of woman is the equivalent of Alexander the great thundering around Europe conquering as he went. So, the conversation continues...
M: "Really"
F: "Oh yeah"
Like an F-14 attempting to land on an aircraft carrier, he now gets the go ahead to lower the landing gear and touch down hoping to catch the wire that stops him from crashing into the ocean...
M:" So, I hope Im not too big for ya or anything" Laughs....
F: "Oh not at all"
M: "So how do I compare to.....ah...ya know...yer ex's like"
F: "Oh brilliant, way better"
Man now feels if Alexander the great crashed through the window on an elephant, he'd get up and kill the elephant with his bare hands and the continue to kick seven shades of shit out of Alexander.
M: "Yeah, yeah, but am I bigger...like?"
F: "Oh yeah, huge"
Man goes to bar, orders more drink before trudging off to the jacks and talking to himself in the mirror, convincing himself that he's got a career in porn. While this is going on, theres a furious amount of texting going on in the female front.
Beep Beep: Hey girl, whats happnin
Not much, out with the fella I met last week
Beep Beep: So whats he like
Grand like, not a bother really
Beep Beep: So whats he really like, is he hung?
Stop it will ya
Beep Beep: Go on, whats it like
Dont talk to me will ya, its like a HB pencil after being broken in half
Beep Beep: Fuck sake girl, g'rid of him
Tell me about it!
Thats the problem right there. Men are being constantly told that their "lad" is gigantic and the best thing ever. The on occasion someone tells them its not, or more often than not they have to use a tweezers to get it out to go for a wee, and they know its tiny. Thats what causes insecurity amongst the men. For feck sake ladies and the gay readers stop telling the men of the world that their love truncheons are amazing, if there actually not!
In light of this argument going on air another one has come out of it. With many emailers, callers and texters giving out about the size of woman and their caverns of love. Too big, too small etc.etc. How many of the ladies out there have a complex about that. Watch this space!
Tuesday night there was a little (Here we go!) debate raging regarding the size of the male baby making machine. 67% of listeners voted in our text poll, stating size does indeed matter. Some callers even pointing out that the bigger the better. Which is all well and good, but how many of you out there fancy falling on something similar to an ESB pole. Maybe some do, but c'mon it cant be much fun if its tickling your lungs now, can it? Ever since men have been wandering around a prehistoric pana, they've been concerned about the size of their club, go with me on this one, who knows what they called it back then. In my humble opinion, the people who they are showing it to, be it male or female, are they issue. Most relationships start off in a nightclub. Then there's the obligatory trip to the cinema, which also involves meeting up outside Virgin or Argos. A few days later, plenty of fumbling goes on and then drinks. Its over the drinks that problems can start for the male. Most conversations go like this....
Male: "So, ah, fuck it, that was a fairly decent shag last night wasn't it?"
Female: "Oh yeah, twas amazing"
Man now thinks that his 90 seconds of shaking his arse on top of woman is the equivalent of Alexander the great thundering around Europe conquering as he went. So, the conversation continues...
M: "Really"
F: "Oh yeah"
Like an F-14 attempting to land on an aircraft carrier, he now gets the go ahead to lower the landing gear and touch down hoping to catch the wire that stops him from crashing into the ocean...
M:" So, I hope Im not too big for ya or anything" Laughs....
F: "Oh not at all"
M: "So how do I compare to.....ah...ya know...yer ex's like"
F: "Oh brilliant, way better"
Man now feels if Alexander the great crashed through the window on an elephant, he'd get up and kill the elephant with his bare hands and the continue to kick seven shades of shit out of Alexander.
M: "Yeah, yeah, but am I bigger...like?"
F: "Oh yeah, huge"
Man goes to bar, orders more drink before trudging off to the jacks and talking to himself in the mirror, convincing himself that he's got a career in porn. While this is going on, theres a furious amount of texting going on in the female front.
Beep Beep: Hey girl, whats happnin
Not much, out with the fella I met last week
Beep Beep: So whats he like
Grand like, not a bother really
Beep Beep: So whats he really like, is he hung?
Stop it will ya
Beep Beep: Go on, whats it like
Dont talk to me will ya, its like a HB pencil after being broken in half
Beep Beep: Fuck sake girl, g'rid of him
Tell me about it!
Thats the problem right there. Men are being constantly told that their "lad" is gigantic and the best thing ever. The on occasion someone tells them its not, or more often than not they have to use a tweezers to get it out to go for a wee, and they know its tiny. Thats what causes insecurity amongst the men. For feck sake ladies and the gay readers stop telling the men of the world that their love truncheons are amazing, if there actually not!
In light of this argument going on air another one has come out of it. With many emailers, callers and texters giving out about the size of woman and their caverns of love. Too big, too small etc.etc. How many of the ladies out there have a complex about that. Watch this space!
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
Sunday, September 02, 2007
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
The one with free movie tickets
Thats the trailer, tis 15's and we have shed loads of tickets, for a special preview screening, to be given away tonight and for the rest of the week.
Monday, August 27, 2007
The one about Flat Pack Furniture - Bastard!!!!
When one buys a house, there is always immense panic to do the whole thing up in the quickest time possible. Its scenarios like this that lead to demented colors, couches and the obligatory 15 candles in each room being purchased. First and foremost, candles are so 2001. Secondly, I did not adopt this attitude with one of our bedrooms. 3 years later we finally got around to sorting it out, last weekend. Its a minimal room, no clutter, just a wardrobe, a bed and 2 lockers. Oh yeah, theres carpet and paint in it as well. Upon ordering said furniture, we were told it would take up to a month. A month, for 4 items. Its not as if wardrobe was made from ivory and we were waiting on a few poachers to gun down a herd of elephants, or anything. So, true to their word, all furniture arrived last Friday. A mass selection of boxes were promptly dropped in my hall and with a quick "Sign there bud will ya" the delivery men were gone. Not even an offer of "Where dya want it...bud?". I suppose my lack of tea and biscuit offerings prompted them to make a hasty exit, either that or it must have been an insurance issue.
My Dad had been forewarned of the impending delivery and as Dads do, offered to help out. I'm sure now, he's regretting it! He arrived around 3.30 and we set to work. It took 40 minutes to get the drawer slider things attached to one of the wardrobe panels. Not because we were awkward or anything, but the bastard in the manufacturing hut decided to delicately mark out where they were supposed to go. What I should have typed in place of delicately, was invisible to the naked eye. Between the gigs and the reels and six odd hours of grunting, swearing and t-shirt changes we managed to get the wardrobe and the bed together. In a nutshell, the instructions were straight forward, but an entire lack of part labeling meant a lot of our time was spent starting at vast amounts of cheap wood, looking for holes that just weren't there.
Photographers impression of Vic working late into the night
Finally (again) all flat pack furniture should be stuffed into a rocket and launched off into space. As for the manufactures who cant be arsed labeling it properly and leaving near invisible markings, you should all be shot!
My Dad had been forewarned of the impending delivery and as Dads do, offered to help out. I'm sure now, he's regretting it! He arrived around 3.30 and we set to work. It took 40 minutes to get the drawer slider things attached to one of the wardrobe panels. Not because we were awkward or anything, but the bastard in the manufacturing hut decided to delicately mark out where they were supposed to go. What I should have typed in place of delicately, was invisible to the naked eye. Between the gigs and the reels and six odd hours of grunting, swearing and t-shirt changes we managed to get the wardrobe and the bed together. In a nutshell, the instructions were straight forward, but an entire lack of part labeling meant a lot of our time was spent starting at vast amounts of cheap wood, looking for holes that just weren't there.
I headed off for Club Light around 10.20 and returned home exhausted, around 3.20am. Staring at the room and the unmade bed drawers, the sweltering heat and a manly selection of tools, I stripped off. Now ladies and gay men, settle down. I stayed in the oul boxers and went to work on getting the drawers made up. Near nude DIY isn't half as bad as it sounds. Just be careful of the screwdrivers and sharp objects, and remember the elastic part of your jocks is not a tool belt, where you can stuff things like Stanley knives.
Photographers impression of Vic working late into the night
On a final note, heres a piece of advice for any budding entrepreneurs. Start up a business that goes around assembling flat pack furniture for people! Charge a reasonable rate and your off. I'm not saying that I would use such a service as I quite enjoy late night, near nude flat pack assembly sessions!
Finally (again) all flat pack furniture should be stuffed into a rocket and launched off into space. As for the manufactures who cant be arsed labeling it properly and leaving near invisible markings, you should all be shot!
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