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Wanderers Ways. Neil Thompson 1961-2021

A Year Without Shit Tickets...


Youri McAnespie

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Glad its not just me. Had some sort of -erm chinos - for work. Very nice, tapered with turn up and worn with a converse or desert style boot. Ended up having to stick some toilet tissue down there after a piss as the walk back from the bog was through a large open plan office. You are not getting away with splashback on that.

I feel for your mate @Sweep Imore than once I've had to do a mad dash out of the tube and pray for some sort of alley to have a piss in. Unpleasent. 

 

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2 hours ago, Sweep said:

True story, after we beat QPR away a few season ago, one of my mates ended up actually pissing himself on the tube, because of this. We did offer him a bottle to piss in, but as it was quite packed, he didn't want to get done for exposing himself, so he just stood there and pissed his pants. Oh how we laughed.

I've been known to piss through the connecting door on the tube after a night out... need to be careful not to hit the middle rail

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45 minutes ago, Not in Crawley said:

Not turn ups, roll ups, makes them short and higher so you can see the boot and an inch of sock. Very trendy.

Mind you, we don't all have the style to pull off those trainers of your to be fair.

I don’t do style per se. I’m individual. 
 

You need class to pull off those trainers as you refer to them. And a nerve of steel as one false step and £500 down the pan. My new ones are getting an outing on Friday as it happens. 

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On 23/04/2021 at 17:02, bolton_blondie said:

Nah let's just say I'm right. You're wrong. 

Full of nitrogen fixing ammonia.  Maude made me get rid of compost bin after I taught the yoofs how good it is for breaking down waste.

 

Ref the pissing yourself surprised @royal white hasn't replied.  Seems to be a Lympstone initiation to calmly "swamp" in crowded pub.

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The older I get the more my bladder is in tune with how far away from home I am when driving 

20 mins from home no problem, but after that the intensity and urgency of needing a piss increases exponentially  

Found myself pissing behind my bins more than once having run out of time to get key in door

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4 hours ago, green genie said:

Full of nitrogen fixing ammonia.  Maude made me get rid of compost bin after I taught the yoofs how good it is for breaking down waste.

 

Ref the pissing yourself surprised @royal white hasn't replied.  Seems to be a Lympstone initiation to calmly "swamp" in crowded pub.

Nothing wrong with a bit of swamping in crowded pubs. Even better when your mate is catching it in his mouth 

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I've only pissed my keks once and I was fairly sober, it was in Madrid (not that time) although I'd been sampling expensive wines at a bodega on a market acting swanky and was merry, I'd needed a piss for about an hour and ignored it but could no longer whilst walking in a really busy but sterile court-y official-y government-y part of the city (no cafes, bars, side streets, shrubbery etc.)

Previous to this earlier in the day the zip on my strides had bust and kept opening, I don't know "The cage is open, but the beast is asleep..." in Spanish so I'd looped a found cable twist through the eye of the zipper pulled up the zip then twisted the twist around the top button...

I'd forgot about this earlier Ray Mears bit of improv until I finally found a quietish sidestreet, which wasn't quiet at all, but I was about to piss myself, I'd already mentally relieved when I realised the convoluted zipper arrangement thing, the strides were too tight to just hoik down in one toddler style so it just happened.

Why I didn't kick off my trainers is a mystery - a lovely rare pair of velcro Dallas that'd been drawing admiring looks all day...Always kick off one's trainers is my tip.

Long squelch back to the hotel, I think I may have camouflaged the piss by wetting elsewhere on the pants with a puddle, probably a puddle of someone else who'd pissed their pants but who'd thought to kick off their trainers first.

Ironically one purpose of this visit (to Madrid) was to retrieve several unpissed and unworn and functioning zippered jeans left in a hotel on another visit (that was that time).

Edited by Youri McAnespie
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4 hours ago, Youri McAnespie said:

I've only pissed my keks once and I was fairly sober, it was in Madrid (not that time) although I'd been sampling expensive wines at a bodega on a market acting swanky and was merry, I'd needed a piss for about an hour and ignored it but could no longer whilst walking in a really busy but sterile court-y official-y government-y part of the city (no cafes, bars, side streets, shrubbery etc.)

Previous to this earlier in the day the zip on my strides had bust and kept opening, I don't know "The cage is open, but the beast is asleep..." in Spanish so I'd looped a found cable twist through the eye of the zipper pulled up the zip then twisted the twist around the top button...

I'd forgot about this earlier Ray Mears bit of improv until I finally found a quietish sidestreet, which wasn't quiet at all, but I was about to piss myself, I'd already mentally relieved when I realised the convoluted zipper arrangement thing, the strides were too tight to just hoik down in one toddler style so it just happened.

Why I didn't kick off my trainers is a mystery - a lovely rare pair of velcro Dallas that'd been drawing admiring looks all day...Always kick off one's trainers is my tip.

Long squelch back to the hotel, I think I may have camouflaged the piss by wetting elsewhere on the pants with a puddle, probably a puddle of someone else who'd pissed their pants but who'd thought to kick off their trainers first.

Ironically one purpose of this visit (to Madrid) was to retrieve several unpissed and unworn and functioning zippered jeans left in a hotel on another visit (that was that time).

You paid to fly back to Madrid to retrieve some keks?

You bourgeois bastard.

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8 hours ago, Spider said:

You paid to fly back to Madrid to retrieve some keks?

You bourgeois bastard.

I liked the place when everyone descended on it that time and vowed to return...

I'd rang the hotel and they'd indeed found them (under the mattress to 'iron' folds out) - they priced up postage to send them at my request and it was about eighty quid.

It was about 400+ quids worth of jeans and, more importantly, I'd probably tried on sixty pairs to choose this three.

Anyhow, Liverpool-Madrid was cheap as chips with Mr Leary so me and a mate went back and made a weekend of it, we had a mate living there so stayed at her's (big handful) and visited Guernica at Club Low on the Saturday (Unbeknownst to each other we'd both took 'provisions' on the flight out, in a 'coals to Newcastle' scenario) then spent about £400 at some hipster restaurant in La Latina on Sunday as a thankyou to our host - us both pushing food around the plate unhungry 😀, and my mate all the time trying to smoke a huge block we'd acquired from an African gent in Retiro Park Saturday afternoon on arrival...

It was good.

It was the second of many, many visits, love it there...Couple of times I've been literally for a night out when younger and dafter. Often spending less in total than a dear night out in Manc.

Other than British towns/cities and Las Palmas I reckon' Madrid is my most visited place...

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