There are some things too precious to lose,
Some things are priceless beyond compare.
Who else can make your heart at peace?
Who else can turn your frown to smile?
There are some things too precious to lose,
Some things are priceless beyond compare.
What else can cause such joy within?
What else can free a broken heart?
There are some things too precious to lose,
Some things are priceless beyond compare.
Where else can you find such wisdom?
Where else can you discover yourself?
There are some things too precious to lose,
So keep them close, hold them dear.
Sunday 15 November 2009
Monday 2 November 2009
Hide the Poo!
This is a rather sordid, though very amusing anecdote that actually happened at a University in the UK. The story was told to me by a friend who had another friend involved in the story. However, I shall tell it as if I'm involved for comic effect. If you are squeamish or can't stand stupid and inappropriate games played by students I suggest you find other reading material for the next short while.
You see, at Uni we used to get a little bored, so we played some games. Some of these games you will have heard of; twister for example. Others, we invented. The best of these was, as most university games are, played to most perfection when in a state of drunkenness. It had simple rules, inherent in the name of the game: Hide the Poo. Yes, a simple game involving hiding the most recent poo you have done somewhere around the house. Everyone else has to find it.
Usually this game worked well, with poos being hidden in wardrobes, under beds and, on occassion, in dressing gown pockets.
Of course, sometimes the poos did not get found very quickly, and less often they weren't found until the next day. However, one day, when in a particularly drunk state one of my housemates hid a poo very well. He hid it very well indeed. No matter where we searched it could not be found. We searched in cupboards, by the toilet, under beds, under duvets, on top of dressers, in shoes, underwear drawers and behind the fish tank. It was nowhere to be seen. It was decided to leave it until the following day, by which time the person who had the genius to hide it so well had lost the genius in a kind of forgetful kind of way. He could not remember where he had hidden the poo. Not good.
Time passed. We slowly forgot about the poo over the next few days. We went about our daily lives, getting up, brushing our teeth, buttering our toast, microwaving our dinners, attending lectures but hiding no more poos. It was quite good really.
Then we had a guest to stay. It was a couple of weeks later. He slept soundly, and got up yawning in the morning. Sitting around eating breakfast, we welcomed him to the kitchen. There he put on some toast and chatted about the day ahead. It was when he buttered the toast that his face became slightly perplexed. He looked up at us, questions sweeping across his eyes. At this point he said the never to be forgotten words,
"Why is this butter brown?"
As you may have worked out at this point our drunken friend had taken the poo he was to hide, lifted out the butter, placed the poo below it and replaced the butter. For two weeks we had made sandwiches and toast with poo infested butter! It was, perhaps, a fitting end to the poo game, switching the famous saying round to say "Out one end, and in the other!"
I am sorry to those who are now vomiting.
You see, at Uni we used to get a little bored, so we played some games. Some of these games you will have heard of; twister for example. Others, we invented. The best of these was, as most university games are, played to most perfection when in a state of drunkenness. It had simple rules, inherent in the name of the game: Hide the Poo. Yes, a simple game involving hiding the most recent poo you have done somewhere around the house. Everyone else has to find it.
Usually this game worked well, with poos being hidden in wardrobes, under beds and, on occassion, in dressing gown pockets.
Of course, sometimes the poos did not get found very quickly, and less often they weren't found until the next day. However, one day, when in a particularly drunk state one of my housemates hid a poo very well. He hid it very well indeed. No matter where we searched it could not be found. We searched in cupboards, by the toilet, under beds, under duvets, on top of dressers, in shoes, underwear drawers and behind the fish tank. It was nowhere to be seen. It was decided to leave it until the following day, by which time the person who had the genius to hide it so well had lost the genius in a kind of forgetful kind of way. He could not remember where he had hidden the poo. Not good.
Time passed. We slowly forgot about the poo over the next few days. We went about our daily lives, getting up, brushing our teeth, buttering our toast, microwaving our dinners, attending lectures but hiding no more poos. It was quite good really.
Then we had a guest to stay. It was a couple of weeks later. He slept soundly, and got up yawning in the morning. Sitting around eating breakfast, we welcomed him to the kitchen. There he put on some toast and chatted about the day ahead. It was when he buttered the toast that his face became slightly perplexed. He looked up at us, questions sweeping across his eyes. At this point he said the never to be forgotten words,
"Why is this butter brown?"
As you may have worked out at this point our drunken friend had taken the poo he was to hide, lifted out the butter, placed the poo below it and replaced the butter. For two weeks we had made sandwiches and toast with poo infested butter! It was, perhaps, a fitting end to the poo game, switching the famous saying round to say "Out one end, and in the other!"
I am sorry to those who are now vomiting.
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