The Year Of Living Rantily Pt.XI

Oh, dear.
It had to happen.

Our little retrospective of the past year has reached the cum-eating meme.
Those of a squeamish disposition, please don't click that link.

Say hello to the month of June.


This month also saw me gatecrash my own blog and wrest it from the sweary grasp of Dive just long enough to post a nice, non-ranty piece on Edward Hopper and light.
I liked that one. It was pretty.

Which is more than can be said for this:
Under the title "Students, Drugs and Arse-Gravy" came:

"Hokay.
It seems you lot are fixated on laxatives today (see the comments to the last post and Robyn's reply), so I'll take this opportunity to add my own (true) tale of arse-gravy mayhem.

This one involves V……, now a prominent local Architect who will never forgive me if he finds me relating this sorry tale on the interweb, but hey ho.

Way back in the mists of time, in celebration of completing our final Architecture exam, V……, Bruce and myself found ourselves in the shabby gloryhole that was Norwich's Golden Star pub (their proud boast: "Not so much a pub, more of a bucket"). It has since been cleaned up and "theme-pubbed" but back then was the real 'spit and sawdust' experience … except without the sawdust.

After a couple of pints of the finest effluent from their own backyard brewery (from memory it was called Royal Flush and had a cartoon of the Queen on the loo on the beer pump - classy), V…… was up for further celebrations.
Nigel - one of the local dealers - was in the house and V…… decided it was about time he discovered just why the rest of us liked the occasional spliff.
So … a quick chat with our Nige (my band played his wedding and the bride's father got out of his tree on hash cake but that's another story) and, suitably grassed up we sashayed down to the river to relax.

I'll get to the point eventually but let me set the scene a little first.
The riverside walk at Norwich is extremely pretty and as this was midsummer was crowded with holidaymakers. Alongside the river is a mediæval defensive tower called Cow Tower, a bloody great circular ruin. We lounged beside this and skinned up.
A few puffs later and Bruce and me lay happily on the grass watching the little fluffy white clouds. We passed the rest of the joint to V…… to try.

I have since discovered that it has this effect on a small number of people. But the first we knew of it, however, was when V…… leapt up, yelling at us that he needed to crap, REALLY urgently.
There are no toilets anywhere near there so I told him to go in the tower.
Panicking, he yelled "But what can I use for toilet paper?"
"Just grab a handful of leaves." I said.
So …
Roused somewhat from our reverie, we watched in mild amusement as V……, in a stoned panic, tore along the footpath to the nearest bush and yanked the whole thing out of the ground, roots and all before dashing into the tower, screaming at us not to look.
Well, what would you do?
We gave him a few seconds and wandered in … to find poor V…… squatting in an alcove, moaning loudly in the throes of a most impressive display of explosive diarrhoea.
Of course, we did what any true friend would do and grabbed his shrub and high-tailed it out of there.

We certainly learned a few new words and descriptive phrases from V…… as we rolled about on the grass in hysterics. Only to have to get up and run as V…… emerged from the tower, brandishing his trousers and informing the world - including a crowd of passing holidaymakers - that he had been forced to wipe his arse on his underpants.

Naked from the waist down he realised his predicament and dashed back inside the tower, followed (absolutely true) by the holidaying family's dog which was in turn followed by their little girl, who was inevitably followed by the bellowing father. V…… caught up with us as we ran, which was a difficult thing to do when you're laughing so hard you can't breathe and one of you is trying to put on his trousers.

Ah, shadenfreude.
Bloody students, eh?

Let that be a lesson to you."

Plus an equally revolting post on revenge that will put you off chocolate for life.
Brrrr …

And of course, not a month can go by without a custard pie in the face of the religious right.

But my personal favourite post from June has to be the one on Sex With Morloks, which included the line about "fat like an American", provoking the most hilarious splatter of apoplexy in my comments box.
Oh, you sensitive colonial souls, you.

Here are some of your other comments from the month's postbags:

Robyn:
"I can't stand Lorraine, at my window..."
"She doesn't sweat much for a fat girl."
"Once at work, I sneaked into the men's bathroom and left a copy of a book for women--a girly thing with flowers and poetry and crap."
"Hams?"
"Is this Profanisaurus something you have written yourself, or can just anyone buy one?"
"I like the Eagles, so there."
"OH MY GOSH! I had such a crush on Doug McClure. "

Sassy:
"I steal chocolate."
"Talking about dog poo makes you frisky?"
"Dive, you sound like a very old man."

Kate:
"Kinda loving the evilness."
"Apparently there's a parasite that lives in human faeces that can attach itself to your olfactory glands so that all you ever smell is well, shit."
"We don't really have socialists over here, at least not so you'd notice, it must be a European thing."
"That vagina has teeth. "

Vic:
"I had a boyfriend that would read a whole chapter at a time while he coaxed it out (sorry to be crass, but it's true). He got hemmorhiods."

Maria:
"Cheese makes the earth move. Any idiot knows this fact."
"Walking along the busy city street, kids honking, horns crying …"
"I am almost unbelievably tempted.... "
"The mother of a friend of Liv's who called to ask me if I kept "lesbian sex toys" in my house before she let her daughter come over to play with Liv. (I told her no...said we just kept guns...that shut her up."
"Somebody get me a drink. Fast."
"I saw my FIRST porn movie about a year ago. That is the sort of pollyanna lesbian you are dealing with."

Terroni:
"I can't even afford cheese right now, let alone books about cheese. If the financial aid check doesn't come soon, I'm going to have to eat the cat."
"Bakers have, so far, enjoyed entirely too much impunity."
"Any post that begins with "Let's start the crap-fest" makes my Monday worthwhile."
"I am surrounded by Christians."
"At least you can get inside out of the rain and wander around looking at vagina shaped openings."

Lynn:
"Why don't the men's shorts get any shorter? and their grunting oh their grunting..."

Monsieur Benaut:
"Mate, You have two choices.
Rock with this chick or become an Amway rep."

Rich:
"Sounds like the time I almost got caught by a jealous husband."
"Jeeez!!! hahaha heeehee."
"I had a collection of Playboy Magazines when I was a kid."

Ame:
"I'm kooky and strange and in the stratosphere!"
"After I go change MY trousers (incontinence IS a friend of us OLD folk, ain't it?) I'll come back here and comment!"
"How 'bout just eating "sausage" in the car?"

Dear Prudence:
"I have seen the remnents of ex-lax brownies and it isn't a pretty sight!"

Fresh Hell:
"Mine was a guy we called 'Peter Peter Guano Eater' after an incident in a bat-infested lava tube cave. Heh!"

Old Knudsen:
"You are the antichrist."