Why do I have to be "that guy"...?

Boris_Johnson

ADC
Moderator
DirtyBAT
Went away with the (acting) in laws a couple of summers ago for the very first time, just before all this chaos began with the "unspecified virus of unknown origin".

Keen to impress, the old lady had brought a pair of roadslappers with her with the idea in her mind that because I'm an aviation engineer, I am also a cobbler. Not wishing to let her down, I pull out some superglue I clearly haven't used for a few years.

Trying to twist the cap off with my teeth, the old man says, "Erm, should you be doing that?"

"Oh yeah, it's only the cap..." was the cue for the sudden "pop" and the instant sensation of superglue pouring into my trap.

I'm not sure how many human beings worldwide have experienced a mouthful of superglue at any point in history before, but I'm gonna go out on a limb and suggest it's still in single figures?

After a 2 hour trip to the hotel on the coast, spent picking bits of hardened glue from between my teeth, we finally arrive. After getting a round of drinks, I go to the bogs. As I'm about to wash my hands her old man walks in and asks how my mouth is. I tell him it's getting there but hey... on the bright side I think I've used up all my embarrassment quota for the weekend at least.

At that moment, I go to pump the squirty soap out and somehow rather than it come out like any other soap dispenser in the world that's ever been invented - this one must have had some kind of blockage since it shot out at a perfect 90 degrees. And given it had 360 degrees azimuth to shoot out as well, it somehow found the 5 or 6 degrees needed to cover my crotch and make it look like I'd spunked my pants :thumleft:

On walking back to my table with a face like beetroot, the missus just shakes her head with that look of perpetual disappointment, and tells me "I know I told you to show some enthusiasm this weekend, but don't you think you've over-reached yourself on this occasion, hunny?"

Indeed. Still, that was nearly three years ago now so at least I haven't humiliated myself any more since... Oh no wait, there's more.
 

Old Stab

LE
Book Reviewer
Went away with the (acting) in laws a couple of summers ago for the very first time, just before all this chaos began with the "unspecified virus of unknown origin".

Keen to impress, the old lady had brought a pair of roadslappers with her with the idea in her mind that because I'm an aviation engineer, I am also a cobbler. Not wishing to let her down, I pull out some superglue I clearly haven't used for a few years.

Trying to twist the cap off with my teeth, the old man says, "Erm, should you be doing that?"

"Oh yeah, it's only the cap..." was the cue for the sudden "pop" and the instant sensation of superglue pouring into my trap.

I'm not sure how many human beings worldwide have experienced a mouthful of superglue at any point in history before, but I'm gonna go out on a limb and suggest it's still in single figures?

After a 2 hour trip to the hotel on the coast, spent picking bits of hardened glue from between my teeth, we finally arrive. After getting a round of drinks, I go to the bogs. As I'm about to wash my hands her old man walks in and asks how my mouth is. I tell him it's getting there but hey... on the bright side I think I've used up all my embarrassment quota for the weekend at least.

At that moment, I go to pump the squirty soap out and somehow rather than it come out like any other soap dispenser in the world that's ever been invented - this one must have had some kind of blockage since it shot out at a perfect 90 degrees. And given it had 360 degrees azimuth to shoot out as well, it somehow found the 5 or 6 degrees needed to cover my crotch and make it look like I'd spunked my pants :thumleft:

On walking back to my table with a face like beetroot, the missus just shakes her head with that look of perpetual disappointment, and tells me "I know I told you to show some enthusiasm this weekend, but don't you think you've over-reached yourself on this occasion, hunny?"

Indeed. Still, that was nearly three years ago now so at least I haven't humiliated myself any more since... Oh no wait, there's more.
In your own time...

Carry on.
 
At that moment, I go to pump the squirty soap out and somehow rather than it come out like any other soap dispenser in the world that's ever been invented - this one must have had some kind of blockage since it shot out at a perfect 90 degrees. And given it had 360 degrees azimuth to shoot out as well, it somehow found the 5 or 6 degrees needed to cover my crotch and make it look like I'd spunked my pants :thumleft:

Come on, be honest. What really happened?
 

Boris_Johnson

ADC
Moderator
DirtyBAT
Last summer, we stayed in our cottage in the Norfolk Broads, took the pooch with us. Superb weather, hot tub the works. A welcome week away after the surgery.

Sat out front, watching the birds, our attention is drawn to the pigeons scrapping for superiority. Each one making a proper scene out of sitting one branch higher than the other - pretty much like a visual representation of some of the fcuking Brexit threads on here.

Anyway, before long, the four of us have turned our attention away from the alfresco snacks, wine and Warsteiner and enjoying the spectacle, when suddenly at one end of the line of trees, a couple of the wood pigeons appear not to be fighting, but getting ready for a little parallel parking...

"aye aye!" I announce, "I think we've got a little action here..."

Sure enough, the male steps up and gives his mate the good news. A few seconds later he's done.

"Oh, it's over".

At that moment, the missus announces, "I think we should nickname you 'Pigeon' from now on".

I genuinely didn't know whether to laugh, cringe of wait for the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

So I just sat there with a face like beetroot.

Again.

While her parents (bless them) laughed hard at my expense...
 
Single figures +1 for the super glue gargle. Similar incident with a tube I kept in the fridge.

I've also tried to glue a popped filling back in place with it. Didn't take and I swallowed the thing while scoffing biltong a short while later.

As for spraying various suspicious looking substances on my crotch or shirt by accident, it's pretty much guaranteed I'll be wearing whatever fluid it is I'm around sooner or later.
 


I may have got hold of the wrong end of the stick?
 

Tool

LE
Single figures +1 for the super glue gargle. Similar incident with a tube I kept in the fridge.

As for spraying various suspicious looking substances on my crotch or shirt by accident, it's pretty much guaranteed I'll be wearing whatever fluid it is I'm around sooner or later.
Single figures plus 2 for the super glue gobfull.

HiD will wear a sample of whatever we had for breakfast/lunch/dinner.
 
Place I was for a while used to get superglue by the half litre pot. The pot was fitted into some whizzy fig boxy dispensing device that could be calibrated to squit out a very accurately measured amount of cyanoacrylate whatjimakallit (superglue).........which has nothing to do with the story whatever. With access to effectively gallons of superglue of course no one ever, ever, used to put drops on door handles, toilet door locks, into the key ways of cars belonging to people who had pissed them off, fag packets, cups, anything that was going to be picked up, or touched by another human being............of equal, or lesser rank. When your boss walks in and picks up the moments before glue prepped packet of fags belonging to a colleague you can either think, "oops", or, "he shouldna done that".

Along with the gallons of glue we were also entrusted with gallons of glue release/dissolving liquid too...........fortunately.
 
I'm convinced of two things.

1. We're born with a finite number of 'fucks' - when you're young, you give them out willy nilly and you realise as you get older that you've only got a few left, so you rarely give them anymore.

2. The Universe has finite 'Drama' and I'm pleased people like you exists because it means there's less to come my way - cheers easy.
 

Boris_Johnson

ADC
Moderator
DirtyBAT
Whilst I'm going down the embarrassing incidents route, my mind is cast back to the early / mid 90s when we were all young, invincible and didn't know when we were beaten.

So much so, I'd spotted a butch lezza in a small party of other chicks and for some strange reason set myself the challenge of converting her.

Smooching up behind on the dance floor, I'd passed Stage 1 where she didn't immediately turn around and slap me around a bit.

Undeterred I pressed on and to my surprise found her returning a cheeky smile as well as a certain amount of encouragement from her mates.

It wasn't long before we were kissing. Perhaps she was one of these "not quite sure" types who decide to shave only one half of their head. The pink crop top and tiny exposed belly was inviting me in all the more. Not wanting to appear too easy I gave her a cheeky wink and went over to the bar to get me and my mate a couple of drinks (in other words an excuse to tell him I've got a lezzer on the hook).

If social media was a thing by then, it would have already been all over my "insta" along with the Inbetweeners Jay même - "Lezzers? Completed it mate".

Even when I eventually went for a p*ss, "she" was there, but the young, naive, larger than life, invincible younger version of myself still refused to accept the obvious. So much so, I just figured it was one of those 'anything a man can do, I can do' peeing up a urinal thing (how the feck does that work by the way - what, do they like, stretch their clits or something?)

...so much so in fact, I even offered to get "her" a bit of tissue to wipe.

"why would I need that?" *she* asks. Yep, why indeed. To wipe the end of *her* massive cock, no less?

Yep, it was a dude. Good job social media wasn't a thing, back then, thinking about it now.
 
Last summer, we stayed in our cottage in the Norfolk Broads, took the pooch with us. Superb weather, hot tub the works. A welcome week away after the surgery.

Sat out front, watching the birds, our attention is drawn to the pigeons scrapping for superiority. Each one making a proper scene out of sitting one branch higher than the other - pretty much like a visual representation of some of the fcuking Brexit threads on here.

Anyway, before long, the four of us have turned our attention away from the alfresco snacks, wine and Warsteiner and enjoying the spectacle, when suddenly at one end of the line of trees, a couple of the wood pigeons appear not to be fighting, but getting ready for a little parallel parking...

"aye aye!" I announce, "I think we've got a little action here..."

Sure enough, the male steps up and gives his mate the good news. A few seconds later he's done.

"Oh, it's over".

At that moment, the missus announces, "I think we should nickname you 'Pigeon' from now on".

I genuinely didn't know whether to laugh, cringe of wait for the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

So I just sat there with a face like beetroot.

Again.

While her parents (bless them) laughed hard at my expense...

'Squab ! ... Squab ....... Shun !

( Sorry could'nt resist - really enjoying this dit as iyou started it ) edit
' Carry on ! '
 
Whilst I'm going down the embarrassing incidents route, my mind is cast back to the early / mid 90s when we were all young, invincible and didn't know when we were beaten.

So much so, I'd spotted a butch lezza in a small party of other chicks and for some strange reason set myself the challenge of converting her.

Smooching up behind on the dance floor, I'd passed Stage 1 where she didn't immediately turn around and slap me around a bit.

Undeterred I pressed on and to my surprise found her returning a cheeky smile as well as a certain amount of encouragement from her mates.

It wasn't long before we were kissing. Perhaps she was one of these "not quite sure" types who decide to shave only one half of their head. The pink crop top and tiny exposed belly was inviting me in all the more. Not wanting to appear too easy I gave her a cheeky wink and went over to the bar to get me and my mate a couple of drinks (in other words an excuse to tell him I've got a lezzer on the hook).

If social media was a thing by then, it would have already been all over my "insta" along with the Inbetweeners Jay même - "Lezzers? Completed it mate".

Even when I eventually went for a p*as, "she" was there, but the young, naive, larger than life, invincible younger version of myself still refused to accept the obvious. So much so, I just figured it was one of those 'anything a man can do, I can do' peeing up a urinal thing (how the feck does that work by the way - what, do they like, stretch their clits or something?)

...so much so in fact, I even offered to get "her" a bit of tissue to wipe.

"why would I need that?" *she* asks. Yep, why indeed. To wipe the end of *her* massive cock, no less?

Yep, it was a dude. Good job social media wasn't a thing, back then, thinking about it now.

So was it a good shag or not?
 
Single figures +1 for the super glue gargle. Similar incident with a tube I kept in the fridge.

I've also tried to glue a popped filling back in place with it. Didn't take and I swallowed the thing while scoffing biltong a short while later.

As for spraying various suspicious looking substances on my crotch or shirt by accident, it's pretty much guaranteed I'll be wearing whatever fluid it is I'm around sooner or later.

I had to on occasion need to use conc HCL many years ago. Hadn't used the bottle for a while and the top was stuck. It was halfway to my gob before I realised. There but for the grace of His Purple Eminence I could have dissolved my lips, tongue and mouth.
 

Boris_Johnson

ADC
Moderator
DirtyBAT
So was it a good shag or not?

Not sure.

She had a hissy fit after I freaked out a bit and stiropped off screaming something about being a pricktease.

Can't be 100% on the account of it being 1995 and having enough alcohol in my blood to prevent me telling the difference between chicks and chicks with dicks....

We've all been there though... Ahem.
 
Went away with the (acting) in laws a couple of summers ago for the very first time, just before all this chaos began with the "unspecified virus of unknown origin".

Keen to impress, the old lady had brought a pair of roadslappers with her with the idea in her mind that because I'm an aviation engineer, I am also a cobbler. Not wishing to let her down, I pull out some superglue I clearly haven't used for a few years.

Trying to twist the cap off with my teeth, the old man says, "Erm, should you be doing that?"

"Oh yeah, it's only the cap..." was the cue for the sudden "pop" and the instant sensation of superglue pouring into my trap.

I'm not sure how many human beings worldwide have experienced a mouthful of superglue at any point in history before, but I'm gonna go out on a limb and suggest it's still in single figures?

After a 2 hour trip to the hotel on the coast, spent picking bits of hardened glue from between my teeth, we finally arrive. After getting a round of drinks, I go to the bogs. As I'm about to wash my hands her old man walks in and asks how my mouth is. I tell him it's getting there but hey... on the bright side I think I've used up all my embarrassment quota for the weekend at least.

At that moment, I go to pump the squirty soap out and somehow rather than it come out like any other soap dispenser in the world that's ever been invented - this one must have had some kind of blockage since it shot out at a perfect 90 degrees. And given it had 360 degrees azimuth to shoot out as well, it somehow found the 5 or 6 degrees needed to cover my crotch and make it look like I'd spunked my pants :thumleft:

On walking back to my table with a face like beetroot, the missus just shakes her head with that look of perpetual disappointment, and tells me "I know I told you to show some enthusiasm this weekend, but don't you think you've over-reached yourself on this occasion, hunny?"

Indeed. Still, that was nearly three years ago now so at least I haven't humiliated myself any more since... Oh no wait, there's more.
One had a similar 'it's not what it looks like!' moment when using foaming sanitiser on visting a police custody suite . Of course the CCTV and soundtrack weren't copied...printed....looped.
Gits
 

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