Singular visions than have stayed with you

[non capisco]

Repost that fits this topic :- The changing rooms of Larkfield swimming pool in Aylseford, Kent circa 1988. Glimpsed through an open cubicle door, a naked man with his eyes shut tight dancing a silent waltz. His arm tenderly crooked round his dancing partner, a towel.

[shiftwork2]

Old bloke nonchalantly drying his pubes with a gym hairdryer.

[non capisco]

Two people in Soho in 2003 at 6 in the morning having al fresco sex against a skip both singing "WALKING ON THE BEACHES, LOOKING AT THE PEACHES!"

I had to unlock a building on Old Compton Street every morning at daft o' clock for two years in that job, back when Soho still had a patina of sleaze. My other favourite occasion was seeing Patrick Stewart utterly shitfaced weaving down the road. When he saw I'd clocked him he did a broad cartoonish wink and bellowed "YEEEEEEEEEES, IT'S MEEEEEEEE".

[Aaron500]

Travelling back from the Phoenix Festival in 1995, my mate was driving (and was a little less fucked than I was, although not much.) We dropped our other mate back home in York, then turned back to return to Leeds where we lived. It's the early hours of a Sunday/Monday, so quiet roads, but then it starts raining, heavily, proper downpour. And then we see blue lights up ahead, the police are blocking the road. We can't make out much beyond the roadblock, and plod are inviting us to turn right into a side road. Another 100 yards up this road is another plod, directing us to turn left up a narrower country road, not much more than a car width. I start getting vocally paranoid, i.e. where the fuck does this road go, are we getting nicked (I have enough drugs on me to make it worth their while), are we sure those were those even real cops...

And then it really starts to rain, absolutely thunderous downpour making us slow to a crawl. And then we see the frogs.

Now children, 1995 was a long, hot, dry summer, there was a drought in Yorkshire, which had just been broken, so our amphibious friends were out to enjoy it. They were all over the road, hopping, jumping and generally cavorting. Me and friend were now exchanging looks to ensure that this was all real. But we were also still shit scared, on a dark unknown country road, having been diverted by possible fake police, biblical downpour and now biblical plague of frogs.

So we start to inch forward, but the problem we have is that the road is so narrow that we can't steer around any obstacles, and these frogs are loving the rain too much to care about us. So we start feeling and hearing little crunches as we mercilessly drive over the fuckers. And to our relief, the rain soon eases, and the road joins a bigger road, which eventually rejoins the main road we were originally on.

It was the strangest experience, where were suddenly plunged into a dream/nightmare. But not really a singular vision, sorry about that. We should have got to the (presumed) accident a bit quicker, might have seen a dead body which would fit the thread better.

[Catalogue of ills]

Travelling back from the Phoenix Festival in 1995, my mate was driving (and was a little less fucked than I was, although not much.) We dropped our other mate back home in York, then turned back to return to Leeds where we lived. It's the early hours of a Sunday/Monday, so quiet roads, but then it starts raining, heavily, proper downpour. And then we see blue lights up ahead, the police are blocking the road. We can't make out much beyond the roadblock, and plod are inviting us to turn right into a side road. Another 100 yards up this road is another plod, directing us to turn left up a narrower country road, not much more than a car width. I start getting vocally paranoid, i.e. where the fuck does this road go, are we getting nicked (I have enough drugs on me to make it worth their while), are we sure those were those even real cops...

And then it really starts to rain, absolutely thunderous downpour making us slow to a crawl. And then we see the frogs.

Now children, 1995 was a long, hot, dry summer, there was a drought in Yorkshire, which had just been broken, so our amphibious friends were out to enjoy it. They were all over the road, hopping, jumping and generally cavorting. Me and friend were now exchanging looks to ensure that this was all real. But we were also still shit scared, on a dark unknown country road, having been diverted by possible fake police, biblical downpour and now biblical plague of frogs.

So we start to inch forward, but the problem we have is that the road is so narrow that we can't steer around any obstacles, and these frogs are loving the rain too much to care about us. So we start feeling and hearing little crunches as we mercilessly drive over the fuckers. And to our relief, the rain soon eases, and the road joins a bigger road, which eventually rejoins the main road we were originally on.

It was the strangest experience, where were suddenly plunged into a dream/nightmare. But not really a singular vision, sorry about that. We should have got to the (presumed) accident a bit quicker, might have seen a dead body which would fit the thread better.

I enjoyed reading this. It sounds like one of those experiences that to all intents and purposes took place outside time.

[Psybro]

Going out to see what the commotion was on the street, being shoulder checked by a distraught woman running past.  Finding out the next day a house fire had killed five, including three children.

On the lighter side, a huge crowd gathering in Central Park to watch the rescue of a raccoon with its head stuck between two branches. 
Being able to recognise individual buildings on the Las Vegas strip from 32,000 feet in the air by their gaudy light displays.
July 2018 heatwave, 17.08 train to Nottingham, 35 degrees, no air con.  Old man wearing his coat and a jumper under it.

[shoulders]

I had to unlock a building on Old Compton Street every morning at daft o' clock for two years in that job, back when Soho still had a patina of sleaze. My other favourite occasion was seeing Patrick Stewart utterly shitfaced weaving down the road. When he saw I'd clocked him he did a broad cartoonish wink and bellowed "YEEEEEEEEEES, IT'S MEEEEEEEE".

Laughed out loud. So easy to imagine.

[Parker911]

A shop assistant with one of those price sticker guns, but he was using the gun to put the sticker onto his opposite finger first, then peeling it off and placing on the tins.  It must've taken him all day

[Angst in my Pants]

Travelling by bus to Kenilworth for the first time, around 1pm on a sunny Sunday afternoon.

We're on the top deck looking at the people walking down the main road approaching the High Street.

An older lady drops her shopping bags in the middle of the pavement and looks like she's about to collapse. But instead of collapsing, she drops her knickers from underneath her skirt and starts to squat down.

Fearing she's about to shit on the pavement in full view of many people around her, I notice something hanging from between her legs. She pulls at it, which dislodges her tampon, which she then casually flings onto the nearby grass.

"Welcome to Kenilworth", I said to my partner. Now we both stifle laughter whenever someone mentions the place, as it's always the first image that springs to mind.

[SOMK]

Was in a toilet at a caravan/camping site age maybe 14 with then 9 year old brother, an English father (with a soft RP-ish accent) was in a cubicle with what I'm presuming was his (constipated) son and said encouragingly,

Spoiler alert

"let it slide out

[close]

,

Spoiler alert

like a sausage."

[close]

Which we both repeated back instantly and loudly before fleeing. By some miracle we managed not to die of laughter that day and it became a thing we'd say together for years.

[falafel]

O

Travelling by bus to Kenilworth for the first time, around 1pm on a sunny Sunday afternoon.

We're on the top deck looking at the people walking down the main road approaching the High Street.

An older lady drops her shopping bags in the middle of the pavement and looks like she's about to collapse. But instead of collapsing, she drops her knickers from underneath her skirt and starts to squat down.

Fearing she's about to shit on the pavement in full view of many people around her, I notice something hanging from between her legs. She pulls at it, which dislodges her tampon, which she then casually flings onto the nearby grass.

"Welcome to Kenilworth", I said to my partner. Now we both stifle laughter whenever someone mentions the place, as it's always the first image that springs to mind.

The most striking thing about this story is that you describe somebody who is presumably still menstruating as 'an older lady'.

[Angst in my Pants]

The most striking thing about this story is that you describe somebody who is presumably still menstruating as 'an older lady'.

I confess I have just had to look up the age that women typically stop menstruating, and that the answer was a surprise to me!

I thought she was in her late fifties, but I suppose given she looked like she'd had a very tough life she could have been in her forties, which would make her either younger or not much older than me.

Now I'm worried that she's reading this and is offended by how old I thought she was, but if you're at the stage where you're removing tampons and littering with them in full view, then I'm hoping you're not the sort to be precious about your age.

[Twit 2]

I was awakened by some noise down in the street outside my window. It was the same delirious cacophony I had heard the day before when I first arrived in the northern border town and witnessed the passing of that unique parade. But when I got up from my bed and went to the window, I saw no sign of the uproarious procession. Then I noticed the house directly opposite the one in which I had spent the night. One of the highest windows of that house across the street was fully open, and slightly below the ledge of the window, lying against the gray facade of the house, was the body of a man hanging by his neck from a thick white rope. The cord was stretched taut and led back through the window and into the house. For some reason this sight did not seem in any way unexpected or out of place, even as the noisy thrumming of the unseen parade grew increasingly louder and even when I recognized the figure of the hanged man, who was extremely slight of build, almost like a child in physical stature. Many years older than when I had last seen him, his hair and beard now radiantly white, clearly this was the body of my old physician, Dr. Zirk.

Now I could see the parade approaching. From the far end of the gray, tunnel-like street the clown creature strolled in its loose white garments, its egg-shaped head scanning the high houses on either side. As the creature passed beneath my window it looked up at me for a moment with that same expression of bland malevolence, and then passed on. Following this figure was the formation of ragged men harnessed by ropes to a cage-like vehicle that rolled along on wooden wheels. Countless objects, many more than I saw the previous day, clattered against the bars of the cage. The grotesque inventory now included bottles of pills that rattled with the contents inside them, shining scalpels and instruments for cutting through bones, needles and syringes strung together and hung like ornaments on a Christmas tree, and a stethoscope that had been looped about the decapitated dog's head. The wooden stakes of the caged platform wobbled to the point of breaking with the additional weight of this cast-off clutter. Because there was no roof covering this cage, I could see down into it from my window. But there was nothing inside, at least for the moment. As the vehicle passed directly below, I looked across the street at the hanged man and the thick rope from which he dangled like a puppet. From the shadows inside the open window of the house, a hand appeared that was holding a polished steel straight razor. The fingers of that hand were thick and wore many gaudy rings. After the razor had worked at the cord for a few moments, the body of Dr. Zirk fell from the heights of the gray house and landed in the open vehicle just as it passed by. The procession which was so lethargic in its every aspect now seemed to disappear quickly from view, its muffled riot of sounds fading into the distance.

[shoulders]

Maybe the old lady had a tampon up there for nostalgia.

[JamesTC]

Saw a pair of cats hissing at each other in my backyard when I was a kid. For some reason, we had a huge drum filled with rainwater at the back underneath the shed. The cats started fighting before both falling from the shed into the water filled drum. The image of those cats scrambling to get out will live with me.

I used to work with a real life Legend Gary who has created more singular visions than I would care to keep. I suppose it would be easiest to split up his escapades into different headings.

Bomb Threat

The post room at work received a package which they considered a bomb threat. It turned out to be a sample of tea bags in silver foil. Until they realised this, they had to evacuate half of the building.

A senior manager came to our area and told us that the post room has received "a suspicious package". After the meeting was over, Legend Gary gets up and walks over to a colleague of mine, cups his cock and bollocks and begins to gyrate whilst saying "I've got a suspicious package right here". Whilst I see him gyrating, I look behind him on the other end of the office and see a senior manager looking on in shock.

Everybody Walk the Dinosaur

Legend Gary used to walk around the office like a dinosaur and would sing the theme to Jurassic Park.

Love Island

Legend Gary once called me over and said "hey James, this is you watching Love Island last night" and did a wanking mime for a ridiculously long time whilst slouched in his chair.

The Return

Legend Gary resigned after an investigation was about to lead to a dismissal. A few months after he left, he was at the local club during the lunch hour. From people who went to see him, he was incredibly drunk and loutish. Seemed as per normal for him. He was apparently shouting at women to get their tops off (in not so nice words).

At the end of the day, I am packing up and see a crowd forming at the window. I go over and can see Legend Gary trying to get in by pressing random numbers on the keypad whilst blocking anybody else from leaving on a Friday evening and shouting at passers-by.

[Alberon]

I was awakened by some noise down in the street outside my window. It was the same delirious cacophony I had heard the day before when I first arrived in the northern border town and witnessed the passing of that unique parade. But when I got up from my bed and went to the window, I saw no sign of the uproarious procession. Then I noticed the house directly opposite the one in which I had spent the night. One of the highest windows of that house across the street was fully open, and slightly below the ledge of the window, lying against the gray facade of the house, was the body of a man hanging by his neck from a thick white rope. The cord was stretched taut and led back through the window and into the house. For some reason this sight did not seem in any way unexpected or out of place, even as the noisy thrumming of the unseen parade grew increasingly louder and even when I recognized the figure of the hanged man, who was extremely slight of build, almost like a child in physical stature. Many years older than when I had last seen him, his hair and beard now radiantly white, clearly this was the body of my old physician, Dr. Zirk.

Now I could see the parade approaching. From the far end of the gray, tunnel-like street the clown creature strolled in its loose white garments, its egg-shaped head scanning the high houses on either side. As the creature passed beneath my window it looked up at me for a moment with that same expression of bland malevolence, and then passed on. Following this figure was the formation of ragged men harnessed by ropes to a cage-like vehicle that rolled along on wooden wheels. Countless objects, many more than I saw the previous day, clattered against the bars of the cage. The grotesque inventory now included bottles of pills that rattled with the contents inside them, shining scalpels and instruments for cutting through bones, needles and syringes strung together and hung like ornaments on a Christmas tree, and a stethoscope that had been looped about the decapitated dog's head. The wooden stakes of the caged platform wobbled to the point of breaking with the additional weight of this cast-off clutter. Because there was no roof covering this cage, I could see down into it from my window. But there was nothing inside, at least for the moment. As the vehicle passed directly below, I looked across the street at the hanged man and the thick rope from which he dangled like a puppet. From the shadows inside the open window of the house, a hand appeared that was holding a polished steel straight razor. The fingers of that hand were thick and wore many gaudy rings. After the razor had worked at the cord for a few moments, the body of Dr. Zirk fell from the heights of the gray house and landed in the open vehicle just as it passed by. The procession which was so lethargic in its every aspect now seemed to disappear quickly from view, its muffled riot of sounds fading into the distance.

Rolf Harris considers rewrite.

[shoulders]

Saw a pair of cats hissing at each other in my backyard when I was a kid. For some reason, we had a huge drum filled with rainwater at the back underneath the shed. The cats started fighting before both falling from the shed into the water filled drum. The image of those cats scrambling to get out will live with me.

I used to work with a real life Legend Gary who has created more singular visions than I would care to keep. I suppose it would be easiest to split up his escapades into different headings.

Bomb Threat

The post room at work received a package which they considered a bomb threat. It turned out to be a sample of tea bags in silver foil. Until they realised this, they had to evacuate half of the building.

A senior manager came to our area and told us that the post room has received "a suspicious package". After the meeting was over, Legend Gary gets up and walks over to a colleague of mine, cups his cock and bollocks and begins to gyrate whilst saying "I've got a suspicious package right here". Whilst I see him gyrating, I look behind him on the other end of the office and see a senior manager looking on in shock.

Everybody Walk the Dinosaur

Legend Gary used to walk around the office like a dinosaur and would sing the theme to Jurassic Park.

Love Island

Legend Gary once called me over and said "hey James, this is you watching Love Island last night" and did a wanking mime for a ridiculously long time whilst slouched in his chair.

The Return

Legend Gary resigned after an investigation was about to lead to a dismissal. A few months after he left, he was at the local club during the lunch hour. From people who went to see him, he was incredibly drunk and loutish. Seemed as per normal for him. He was apparently shouting at women to get their tops off (in not so nice words).

At the end of the day, I am packing up and see a crowd forming at the window. I go over and can see Legend Gary trying to get in by pressing random numbers on the keypad whilst blocking anybody else from leaving on a Friday evening and shouting at passers-by.

Are you Pubes Daz?

[Sebastian Cobb]

On holiday in a campsite in the Dordogne, bog cubicle completely covered from floor to 1.5m up the walls in bum gravy.

[PlanktonSideburns]

Saw a pair of cats hissing at each other in my backyard when I was a kid. For some reason, we had a huge drum filled with rainwater at the back underneath the shed. The cats started fighting before both falling from the shed into the water filled drum. The image of those cats scrambling to get out will live with me.

I used to work with a real life Legend Gary who has created more singular visions than I would care to keep. I suppose it would be easiest to split up his escapades into different headings.

Bomb Threat

The post room at work received a package which they considered a bomb threat. It turned out to be a sample of tea bags in silver foil. Until they realised this, they had to evacuate half of the building.

A senior manager came to our area and told us that the post room has received "a suspicious package". After the meeting was over, Legend Gary gets up and walks over to a colleague of mine, cups his cock and bollocks and begins to gyrate whilst saying "I've got a suspicious package right here". Whilst I see him gyrating, I look behind him on the other end of the office and see a senior manager looking on in shock.

Everybody Walk the Dinosaur

Legend Gary used to walk around the office like a dinosaur and would sing the theme to Jurassic Park.

Love Island

Legend Gary once called me over and said "hey James, this is you watching Love Island last night" and did a wanking mime for a ridiculously long time whilst slouched in his chair.

The Return

Legend Gary resigned after an investigation was about to lead to a dismissal. A few months after he left, he was at the local club during the lunch hour. From people who went to see him, he was incredibly drunk and loutish. Seemed as per normal for him. He was apparently shouting at women to get their tops off (in not so nice words).

At the end of the day, I am packing up and see a crowd forming at the window. I go over and can see Legend Gary trying to get in by pressing random numbers on the keypad whilst blocking anybody else from leaving on a Friday evening and shouting at passers-by.

Live island one made me 😂

[PlanktonSideburns]

Rolf Harris considers rewrite.

Hard to take this story seriously as I imagine it's poo's avatar dancing up the street

[kalowski]

I was awakened by some noise down in the street outside my window. It was the same delirious cacophony I had heard the day before when I first arrived in the northern border town and witnessed the passing of that unique parade. But when I got up from my bed and went to the window, I saw no sign of the uproarious procession. Then I noticed the house directly opposite the one in which I had spent the night. One of the highest windows of that house across the street was fully open, and slightly below the ledge of the window, lying against the gray facade of the house, was the body of a man hanging by his neck from a thick white rope. The cord was stretched taut and led back through the window and into the house. For some reason this sight did not seem in any way unexpected or out of place, even as the noisy thrumming of the unseen parade grew increasingly louder and even when I recognized the figure of the hanged man, who was extremely slight of build, almost like a child in physical stature. Many years older than when I had last seen him, his hair and beard now radiantly white, clearly this was the body of my old physician, Dr. Zirk.

Now I could see the parade approaching. From the far end of the gray, tunnel-like street the clown creature strolled in its loose white garments, its egg-shaped head scanning the high houses on either side. As the creature passed beneath my window it looked up at me for a moment with that same expression of bland malevolence, and then passed on. Following this figure was the formation of ragged men harnessed by ropes to a cage-like vehicle that rolled along on wooden wheels. Countless objects, many more than I saw the previous day, clattered against the bars of the cage. The grotesque inventory now included bottles of pills that rattled with the contents inside them, shining scalpels and instruments for cutting through bones, needles and syringes strung together and hung like ornaments on a Christmas tree, and a stethoscope that had been looped about the decapitated dog's head. The wooden stakes of the caged platform wobbled to the point of breaking with the additional weight of this cast-off clutter. Because there was no roof covering this cage, I could see down into it from my window. But there was nothing inside, at least for the moment. As the vehicle passed directly below, I looked across the street at the hanged man and the thick rope from which he dangled like a puppet. From the shadows inside the open window of the house, a hand appeared that was holding a polished steel straight razor. The fingers of that hand were thick and wore many gaudy rings. After the razor had worked at the cord for a few moments, the body of Dr. Zirk fell from the heights of the gray house and landed in the open vehicle just as it passed by. The procession which was so lethargic in its every aspect now seemed to disappear quickly from view, its muffled riot of sounds fading into the distance.

I was kinda hoping not to read any extracts from the new Cormac McCarthy novels before they came out.

[JamesTC]

Are you Pubes Daz?

Just yet another innocent victim of Legend Gary.

[Twit 2]

I was kinda hoping not to read any extracts from the new Cormac McCarthy novels before they came out.

That's Ligotti, another absolute prose master.

[falafel]

I confess I have just had to look up the age that women typically stop menstruating, and that the answer was a surprise to me!

I thought she was in her late fifties, but I suppose given she looked like she'd had a very tough life she could have been in her forties, which would make her either younger or not much older than me.

Now I'm worried that she's reading this and is offended by how old I thought she was, but if you're at the stage where you're removing tampons and littering with them in full view, then I'm hoping you're not the sort to be precious about your age.

She might have only just remembered she forgot to take it out in 1997, in which case she was probably right to be rid ASAP.

[shoulders]

Like Blair, excessive exposure can cause toxic shock.

[Fry]

In Korea in 2016, about 8am on hot Saturday summer morning. My partner was sleeping late so I went out to pick up some breakfast. As I was walking back I passed a bank. Sat on the steps were two young men absolutely creasing up with laughter. Placed between them was an entire pigs head

[Bad Ambassador]

Flying over the channel (in a plane), looking out of the window and being able to see both the English and French coasts at the same time.

[steve98]

Flying over the channel (in a plane), looking out of the window and being able to see both the English and French coasts at the same time.

You got have got that from the ground; no need for a plane.

[robhug]

On holiday in a campsite in the Dordogne, bog cubicle completely covered from floor to 1.5m up the walls in bum gravy.

I bet it wasn't much cleaner before you arrived?

[robhug]

Good friend at college who happened upon a battered looking crash helmet on the windy roads around his family's very rural farm in north wales only to find out it was a lot heavier than anticipated before realising why. the rest of him and the bike were in a ravine obscured by trees and gorse bushes. Stay away from motorbikes.

Thats my singular vision and I didn't even see it.