Up Front: Same as it Ever Was
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How much time must elapse before an event becomes part of one's sordid past, rather than one's sordid present?
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6 months.
There's a whole lot of people staring at their computer right now thinking "should I go there?"
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There's a whole lot of people staring at their computer right now thinking "should I go there?"
I'm more wondering "who am I going to incriminate?"
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How much time must elapse before an event becomes part of one's sordid past, rather than one's sordid present?
Long enough for a shower? After you've said, "Thank you for having me"?
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How much time must elapse before an event becomes part of one's sordid past, rather than one's sordid present?
In your case, Tom, about 36 hours.
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How sordid are we talking? Sordid enough so that a silence falls upon the room, and people rapidly change the subject? Or more like 'uproarious-laughter-inspiring'?
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There's a whole lot of people staring at their computer right now thinking "should I go there?"
In the instance I'm thinking of the exact quote was "thank you for your hospitality"
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Well, this should be safe, since it happened over 15 years ago, and no names will be mentioned.
I once flatted with a workmate, a nice enough guy but with a few quirks. I forgave him the patched leather trousers, the Marvel comic collection that took up half the living room, and even his tendency to stand on one leg and play the flute along to Jethro Tull. But his competitiveness could get on my nerves.
One evening we were preparing for a flat party, cooking up snacks in the kitchen before the guests arrived, drinking cask wine out of Arcoroc mugs (I told you it was sordid). Every time he finished a mug, which was often, he pointed at my half-full mug and said "Oi! We're going glass-for-glass! Down in one!". After a while I thought, "Right, if he's going to play silly buggers with drink, I'll up the ante." So, I started surreptitiously adding slugs of brandy into his wine.
As the guests started to arrive, he was getting very merry. At one stage he said "This wine is tasting better and better! I never knew cask wine could taste so good." With the party yet to really take off, he decided that it would be a great idea to climb onto his life-sized cutout of Wolverine and slide on it. Down the stairs. Head first.
That was never going to work out well, and the fact that there was a dog-leg halfway down the stairs meant that the end was even sooner, louder, messier and more painful. He retired to bed well before midnight, and he had more than one reason for a sore head the next day. It was 24 hours before he regained the power of speech, and about a week before he talked to me again once he found out what I'd done.
Oh, and it probably didn't help that I snogged his girlfriend while he was out cold.
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How sordid are we talking? Sordid enough so that a silence falls upon the room, and people rapidly change the subject? Or more like 'uproarious-laughter-inspiring'?
More OMG laughing than 'I just threw up in my mouth' or 'Now I'll just pop off and kill myself'. But there must be some aspect of debauchery involved. Tom's is excellent.
My most frequently-told story is this one, which appears here as Alex Was Not a Breast Man. (And as an aside, four years ago? Holy crap.)
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Oh, and it probably didn't help that I snogged his girlfriend while he was out cold.
Smooth move.
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But there must be some aspect of debauchery involved. Tom's is excellent.
Oh, there's more where that came from, believe me.
Smooth move.
Well, it would have been rude not to.
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So here’s what we’re going to do. I’ve loved these tales of Sordid Pasts so much I want some more. Tell me yours.
Sordid? yes, past? yes, memorable? yes, yes. Felt great at the time, hey, bit of a legend back then :)
Slept with this guy. -
I don't even know where to start on this topic. I'll have a think about it over the course of the day. Maybe others could just tell sordid stories about me instead.
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Sordid stories, I have a few. But all of my sordid adventures make me cringe, so I won't indulge, I'll just listen quietly to everyone else's.
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Well, I'm out. At my Civil Union, the Best Man's speech started along the lines of "I've been preparing for this speech for a long time, but Josh has been preparing for it for even longer -- the bastard's left me nothing to work with" and proceeded to list all of the vices and embarrassments I've failed to acquire. No psycho ex-girlfirends, no donkey porn on the laptop, no drunken injuries, no brushes with the law etc etc.
I'm still not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing.
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Wow, Sofie! I've had my adventures, but never a tryst with a criminal. Unless you count a little bit of plagiarism...
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I really am trying to think of a story I can tell. I just can't think of anything that won't...incriminate other people.
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Wow, Sofie! I've had my adventures, but never a tryst with a criminal. Unless you count a little bit of plagiarism...
Indeed, I was thinking the closest I could come was the time I slept with a guy who later published a conspiracy theory book and went to work for Investigate. Which is quite like boinking a plagiarist.
Well, it would have been rude not to.
It's nice that there are other people who appreciate that sometimes, yes, it is bad manners to NOT hit on someone.
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I gave a guy a handjob once and then found out he was a member of the Young Nats. Man I felt dirty after that!
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I've had my adventures,
Yep, that was my feeling at that particular time :)
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I gave a guy a handjob once and then found out he was a member of the Young Nats.
This should win the 'most perfect sordid story in one sentence' award, I think.
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Oh, here's one. It's not particularly sordid, but right up Emma's alley (as it were).
A few years ago I did a tour of the MCG. On it were a handful of old people, and 2 young men from England. We got talking, enthusing over the fact that we were at the MCG. I was very excited. One of them, Geoff, and I decided that we would sneak off, and find where his seat was going to be for the ODI the next day. Sneaking off was no easy feat, but we managed it, and once we found his seat, um...shenanigans ensued.
The best part? He somehow convinced his friend to swap tickets with me so we could sit together at the England vs Oz game the next day.
Now, Emma, that's a wingman.
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Now, Emma, that's a wingman.
Oh come on, don't even suggest I might have to make that choice. That's mean.
OTOH, at the MCG? Megan gets bonus points. But Tom's story involves a life-sized cardboard Wolverine, so also accrues bonus points.
Mildly relatedly, yesterday I attempted to find a cricket game I could go to with my partner, as our perfect romantic summer outing. Know what Chch gets this summer? Fuck. All. So we're going to White Ferns vs Australia Twenty/20 followed by Black Caps vs Australia Twenty/20 on the 28th of February. I'd rather be at a test.
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I'm always a little regretful about a nude photo shoot I did with my university waterpolo team in Ozzie. I don't know how we all got persuaded to do it, what it was in aid of, or what became of the pics. I must have been fucking drunk again. But somewhere out there is a pic of me standing starkers in front of a team of nudes, lecturing at a blackboard covered in arcane play diagrams, entitled 'The Alekhine Counter Gambit'. The picture I saw had an artfully placed waterpolo ball hiding the fact that it was actually a bloody cold day, but there must be others....DOH!
I highly doubt we'll hear anyone speak unanonymously of their experiences as a customer of prostitution. Doomed to be a one-sided story.
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Wow, Sofie. I debated that guy! He was cute, back in the day. In a dangerous dirty blond sort of way. And a fairly decent first speaker, IIRC. (His team won. It was generally considered prudent for the judge to award the debate to the "home team", as it were, so as to avoid being shanked on the way out.)
Hmm. For me, sordid/pleasant/funny never overlapped in satisfying ways; less Courtney Love, more courtly love. But kudos to those who have managed all at once.
PS Tom, are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting? And did you get to the bottom of the page?
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