Confess!

[Eight Taiwanese Teenagers]

The other day I did something really stupid.

I wanted to get some pictures off my old cameraphone, but couldn't turn it on, or find the charger for it. But then I had a brainwave! All these modern fancy computers have special slots in them for memory cards to go into... my housemate's got a brand new laptop so he's bound to have a slot like that, I thought. So I removed the memory card from the phone and went into my housemate's room to try putting the memory card into his computer. I found the slot and put the card in. Only it didn't exactly feel right. I pushed it further in. I still didn't feel right. I realised that this kind of memory card isn't meant to go into this kind of slot. I then realised I wouldn't be able to get the memory card out, but figured it would pop out if I pushed it further in. It didn't.

I then left my housemate's room and went into my room to look on the internet for possible solutions. And noticed an identical slot for memory cards on my laptop.

So not only have I got something jammed into my housemate's computer, which I was using without his permission, but I didn't have a legitimate reason for using his computer anyway, as I could have used mine.

Now, the fact that I didn't even realise that I had a memory card slot on my computer suggests that my housemate might not know or care about his slot, and my misdemeanour will never be discovered. But if/when it is, I will be quite rightly blamed.

My current plan is to try to use some tweezers to sort it out. But I can't help feeling I should confess.

And this is my confession.

CONFESS, WHORES!



TL;DR version: I did a stupid but unimportant thing, and have no balls. Tell me about when you've had no balls.

[biggytitbo]

It's confess or he sees all those pictures you took of your bumhole.

[Eight Taiwanese Teenagers]

It's confess or he sees all those pictures you took of your bumhole.

That's no way to talk about Waspy's Wife!

[Mindbear]

I don't know if this really fits in with the theme, but when I was seventeen, I found a spare set of keys to my stepmothers (2nd one) convertible. She was a real bastard of a woman, so one weekend when she was away I went and nicked the car. I drove it around, telling people it was mine and feeling like the fucking don, and it was all good until drove straight into a porsche virtually collapsing the side of that car and crumpling my own. I didn't know what to do so I dumped the car back on my dads driveway, took the handbrake off and let it roll into some trees. I could have possibly got away with it if I hadn't left a tape in there with my fucking name on it. I refused to confess to it until a few years ago my dad dropped by when I was at my nans and needed someone to cover his arse because he was going to see another lady when he should have been somewhere else, so he needed me to drive the car and park it so it looked like he was at home. On handing me the keys he said 'will you be able to drive it? Or have you driven this car before'. I replied 'yeah'. Tit.

[Hank_Kingsley]

Haha!

Brilliant... You do realise though what with that and the Dave Mustaine story I'm going to be stealing various elements of your life story and putting them into some sort of Ferris Bueller style screenplay.

[Mindbear]

Hehehe, well thats fine, as long as you leave anything post 23 out, it really is quite quite dull....unless you can whip up a whirlwind of drama out of a girl sitting yelling at The Apprentice, crying at Eastenders, and having a nice cup of tea. I must say, being naughty was lots of fun at the time!

[Fry]

Words

Pfft, i do that all the time, cause although it gets jammed, it works.
I always use cocktail sticks.

[Crabwalk]

I once returned from an evening out on a German school exchange to my host's house, to find his parents engaged in a blazing row. They were in the kitchen and I was outside, by the front door. I heard every word, but couldn't understand much - although my name was being mentioned. The dad seemed very cross, and the mum was pretty upset about something.

I waited for them to stop and then let myself in, to be met by them both in the hall.

I felt it probably wasn't the right time to tell the dad that whilst returning to the garage the bike I was using, I'd knocked the wing mirror of of his pristine Merc.

I offered a brief good night, and scurried to my room. I never confessed, and I never knew what they were arguing about in the first place, but at the end of the exchange I had to walk to the school by myself to get the bus, and no one came to see me off. I felt a bit like Herr Bean.