The Text Message

This is a yarn passed on from a couple of years ago, but it's one I never tire of hearing. A bit like Morgan Freeman's voice. It involves an unpredictable gentlemen and two of his mates. They were all quite excited about the prospect of a night on the tiles, and their warm up consisted of developing an interesting punch. This has nothing really to do with the story, but I like the ingredients so much I feel it only fair to share them. One bottle of gin, one bottle of vodka, one bottle of bacardi, one bottle of white wine...........and a can of lilt! These are the type of men we are dealing with in this tale.
The host of the gathering was dishing out punch like s*it in a field. They were all getting gradually more cut whilst watching something as bad as the x factor. Does anything worse exist? Let me know if it does. Anyway, they were giving their full attention to the visual braganza on ITV 44 + 1 channel, when the hosts phone receives a message. He sniggers to himself, and explains that the girl he has been pestering lately has told him that she is about to have a shower. Pointless, but luckily true, for the story. The host then replies, joyously writing the words, "Are you going to dry your tits?" The host then makes a fatal error. He goes to the bathroom, leaving said phone within paw snatching clutch of his two mates. They waste no time in flipping through his phone book as he lays junior cable in his porthole under the stairs. Their fat fingers rustle through the names as they suddenly hear the flush attempting to work. In a flash of panic, having already written the word 'TWAT' in the message window, one caring fellow decides to send this message to the name he was on, titled.......'DAD'.
The cable layer returns, oblivious to proceedings prior. After about 10 minutes, his phone goes again. He looks bemused, as the two mates, trying not to laugh, can't wait to see the reply. The host is now looking most worried and makes his confusion audible. He has received a text from his dad saying simply, "Was this meant for me??" Of course the host knows nothing of the mates tidy work on the keypad, and announces that he has received a text from his dad, and tells them what it said. Now uncomprehendably bemused, the host explains to his mates how he must have sent a text saying: "Are you going to dry your tits?" to his dad by mistake. A brilliant moment for the two mates, who have never told him the true story since.

The Damp Sock

This story involves four men, two women, a sock, and an event that will live in the memory for a while.
Going back a few years, a mate of mine had four aussie fellas staying with him for a weekend. With plenty of tourist options for them to do in the city, they instead piled into a plethora of pubs, oozing in the local clubs, and getting a feel for the english saturday night out. After singing their national anthem on a table and being chased out with pool cues, they went to the main city nightclub and adorned their dancing hooves. The dancefloor was on fire, and two lucky soldiers managed to pick up a member of the opposite sex. Aussies are not normally this fussy however. They all left the club at kick out time and did the ritualistic events of taxi's, kebabs and looking for places that sold more drink. In failing on option three, they headed back to the house they were staying at, as it contained some form of dodgy overseas whiskey, which tasted like a domestic cleaning product from Botswana. Anyway......everything was rosy at this stage. After spending some time in the lounge, they all decided the central heating was warmer than a camels saddle, and some people removed their shoes and socks for extra comfort. The two lone rangers went up to their room, the other 'pick up pilot' went with his good lady to his room, which left the man in question, in the lounge, with his good lady.
Needless to say, they were getting along great, she loved Neighbours and he loved Corry. Before he could say 'no', he was being plummeted into an act of fornication, after having his hands in the fishbowl, and the friction between them was not dissimilar to that which had been witnessed on the dancefloor, some 4 hours earlier. As their ravenous session came to a close, the antipodean needed somewhere to locate his ambrosia cream custard, as he was in no position to become a father. He grabbed the closest thing that looked amiable, one of his mates socks that was lying near the tv. How nice of him.
After a good nights sleep of about 3 hours, people came downstairs in dribs and drabs. The other girl from upstairs being one of them, announced that the two girls had to leave in five minutes. Some rushing around woke everyone, and they were all back in the lounge again. To cut a short story long, the aussie fella couldn't wait to see his mates face when he took his damp sock away from near the tv. However, his face went somewhat purple when he watched his 'girl' pick up the said garment, as it was hers all the time. The next 30 seconds was one of the most cringe worthy in his life as he saw the poor girls face as her hoof hit the thread. He wanted to be somewhere else. He couldn't say anything, he knew that she knew what had happened, but she remained silent, slowly wriggling her toes through what must have felt like an otters pocket.
Needless to say, after they had gone the lad told all the guys the story immediately, and it remained the laughter point of the weekend, and well beyond. Is it bad to find this amusing? I do not know.

Nut Screws Washer And Bolts

This little gem of a story produced what I think is my favourite newspaper headline. The article was quite serious, but as the victim was fine I think it only fair to share it with you.
I am unsure of dates, as this was passed on to me by someone else, but you should never let the truth get in the way of a good story anyway.
A cleaning woman was minding her own business and washing the office hallway as usual at 7pm, when the office workers had gone for the day. She swished her mop from side to side, like James Brown passing the microphone from one hand to the other. Whilst she did this, a loon had escaped from the local nuthouse, and was on the loose in the same town. This man was a dangerous cookie, and had a history of minor sex offences, and general inhuman behaviour. The man went for the nearest place that looked like safe cover, yes.....the same office block. He could see no lights and plundered in. As he tacked his way around the corridors he slipped on the wet surface and slid straight into the woman washing the floor. Let's call her Edna, as that was her name. He bundled her into a store room and miserably attempted to rape her. This was the serious part of the story. Anyway, there were other cleaners in the building who came to Edna's rescue and she was saved from the loon by her washers in arms. The loon went back on the run and fled the scene without capture. He is probably a politian by now or managing a League One football team. I digress. The Sun newspaper got wind of the story via a local tinpot gazette and printed the following headline, which I think is superb. NUT SCREWS WASHER AND BOLTS.
I thought the article was about plumbing.........I was wrong.