To: Benedict XVI
Dear Joe

You know how you have those embarrassing moments when you go to children's hospitals?
On those days, I put viagra in your breakfast cereal.

Cardinal Badass
(stuntsmile, Fri 27 Aug 2010, 10:51, 1 reply)

as a straight man
who rides a motorcycle, has tattoos and has some pretty GNARLY and RADICAL hobbies, my hideous secret is that I nabbed 2 CDs from my girlfriends car and listen to them when I drive to work. I sometimes find myself singing along.

The CDs? The Saturdays and Girls Aloud.

The shame...
( zulu eh?, Fri 27 Aug 2010, 10:45, 8 replies)

18 months ago I adopted 3 ex-battery hens.
I named 2 of them “Georgia” and “Charlotte” after the 10 year old twin girls who live next door. The girls were delighted with their namesakes and would often visit my chickens and bring them food and treats. If they saw me out in the garden I would often hear “MUM! Can we go and see the chickens?”.

Unfortunately Georgia the chicken turned out to be psychotic and would tear chunks out of the other two hens, so I had to give her away to a middle-aged couple that keep a big flock of chickens. Understandably, the little girl next door was quite sad that “her” chicken had gone, but I assured her that she would love her new home and have loads more space to run around with her new chicky friends. I also promised to keep her updated with how she was getting on.

In the past year I have reported that:
- Georgia settled in well, there was a bit of pecking from the other hens at first but they are all friends now.
- Georgia has made friends with a bantam cockerel and they are inseparable.
- Georgia is laying a nice big egg every day
- Georgia is always the last into the coup at night because she loves her new home so much.
- Georgia has gone broody and is sitting on some eggs
- Georgia is now a mummy and spends her time looking after her fluffy yellow chicks.

Here comes the confession part; very little of the above is true. A month after I gave her away, a fox tore her to shreds along with some of the other chickens. Apparently there was blood and guts and feathers everywhere, they had to hose the coup down with a pressure washer the carnage was so great. They found Georgia’s head in the bushes; beak mid-squawk and eyes still wide open with terror.
( Colonel Dracula Two manky hookers and a racist dwarf, Fri 27 Aug 2010, 10:39, 3 replies)

I once got stuck halfway up a cliff for several hours and, when rescued, said that some evil dogs had chased me up there and I couldn't get down.
There were no evil dogs, I was just crap at climbing cliffs... My mum still brings this up many years later and says "they never found out who those dogs belonged to..." only I know of my true foolhardiness.
( Damien's Hearse, Fri 27 Aug 2010, 9:58, 1 reply)

Monster
I had a shit the other day that was so big, I had to get a knife from the kitchen and slice it into three bits in the pan before it would flush away.
(mymilkshakebringsallthemongstotheyard poison hearts, poison minds - joining hate, Fri 27 Aug 2010, 9:51, 3 replies)

I put a wheelie bin in a cat

(TheManWithThePlan cussed your mum on, Fri 27 Aug 2010, 9:44, 8 replies)

in an effort to post "new" material....
so, I may as well do this properly....

what to confess?? well, storing 140GB of Harry Horn on the gf's laptop in a "secure" space (new folder hidden in Program Files so she'll never find it) because I want to keep my nice shiny laptop clean of any of that mucky filth!
(Anne Frank started to build a loft conversion on, Fri 27 Aug 2010, 9:28, Reply)

I pushed a man off a cliff once
He deserved it, so I killed him.

Yours,

F. Dennis.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Fri 27 Aug 2010, 9:16, Reply)

As a teenager I once set fire to a Mormon church, which partly burnt down.
Though I can't say I felt/feel bad about it.
(Chopper3, Fri 27 Aug 2010, 9:12, 2 replies)

So.....
usually it's remembering an amusing incident with some connection to a specific theme which results in my total humiliation and tell ninety-odd thousand people about it thus opening myself up for random abuse ranging from how stupid I am based on that alone to abuse about my grammar and spelling and how I decribe the incident.

This week however it's remembering an amusing incident which results in my total humiliation and tell ninety-odd thousand people about it thus opening myself up for random abuse ranging from how stupid I am based on that alone to abuse about my grammar and spelling and how I decribe the incident, but without a connection to a specific theme, anything at all, just tell us what a twat you are.

Am I the only one wondering why we fall for it week after week? After week? After week? After week? After week? After week?
(tinypod will never learn. Ever., Fri 27 Aug 2010, 9:12, 10 replies)

When I was very young
My brother and I found an old lady's purse, which contained forty English pounds, and we didn’t hand it in.

We didn't tell our parents, knowing full well we'd be made to return it if we did... And deducing that any large purchases would arouse suspicion, we blew the fucking lot on sweets.
(TheManWithThePlan cussed your mum on, Fri 27 Aug 2010, 8:46, 9 replies)

In which grandmasterfluffles gets revenge in true b3ta style
As a friend of mine said recently, "There's nothing quite as satisfying as doing an ENORMOUS smelly poo somewhere where you're very unlikely ever to return, and driving away at full speed." I think I can go one better. There's nothing quite as satisfying as doing an ENORMOUS smelly poo that makes someone throw up.

A couple of years ago I was in Tegucigalpa. Tegucigapla is the capital of Honduras, and boy is it a shithole. I'd been travelling for a few weeks with a fairly large group of people, most of whom I liked. With one massive exception. Megan. Megan was a nasty, bitchy girl who made snide comments about me in front of everybody, persuaded people to go out without me, etc etc. I don't know why she didn't like me, but she was a Grade A bitch. I emailed everybody back home asking what evil things I should do to her and came up with the following list of suggestions:

* Put hair removal cream in her shampoo
* Spike her drinks with laxatives
* Shave her head while she's asleep
* Put her hand in warm water while she's asleep
* Piss in her suitcase
* Teach her that "Me gusta joder las cabras" means, "Hello, how are you?"

However, what actually happened was so much more satisfying than any of those things. We were at the bus terminal waiting for our bus to Nicaragua when the dodgy burrito that I'd had the night before caught up with me. After an agonising several-minute wait for the one toilet in the building I dived in there, dropped my pants and unleashed a foul torrent of effluent. After I'd cleaned myself up and straightened myself out, I turned round to flush the vile river of monster shit down the toilet. It wouldn't flush. I was in there for several minutes, cursing this toilet, opening it up and trying to fix it, all to no avail. It was not going to flush. There was nothing for it. I was going to have to leave it and pretend that it wasn't mine.

I left the cubicle, looking as innocent and disgusted as I possibly could. Mercifully the next person in the queue wasn't anyone I knew, but behind her was Megan. "It's disgusting in there," I helpfully warned her. A few minutes later, thanks to an open window facing the bus terminal, I was treated to the glorious sound of the following:

"Oh -my - God - BLEEEEEARAARRRRGGGHHHH!!! Ewww! HURRRRHHRHHHHGGGGHGGGHHHH!! BLLLLLLEEEEEEEARARRRGGsplugfffffff!!!"

A few minutes later, Megan emerged, white and shaking. I sat on the bus sniggering for the next several hours. Megan, if you're reading, IT WAS ME! HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!
(grandmasterfluffles Come to my Armageddon party on, Fri 27 Aug 2010, 7:59, 2 replies)

Happened about twenty minutes ago.
I was teaching a class and tried to stifle a cough so as I wouldn't cough all over the student. A great big gob of snot flew out of my nose and landed on the students desk. Fortunately she was too busy seeing what her friend was doing and I managed to quickly scrape up the snot with a sheet of paper I had on me. Cleaned it up proper a bit later with some windex(that was all i could grab at short notice). No one seemed the wiser.
(kenzillion, Fri 27 Aug 2010, 7:34, Reply)

Double confession
In train tunnels i use the excuse to let out huge farts.
Well one time i had an accident due to the fact that i cocked my leg kicking the person next to me whilst simutaniously shitting myself.

I confesses that they were my poo encrusted underpants in the train toilet and i confess that subsequently it was also me who managed to block the toilet whilst trying to flush away the evidence.
(shake'n'bake Tally Ho, Biatch!, Fri 27 Aug 2010, 6:21, Reply)

Squat Toilet
I recently got back from a vacation in an East Asian country. The washroom facilities were nothing to be proud of, and regular toilets weren't available at pretty well every public washroom. More annoying, they often don't have their own supply of toilet paper. I know all this because I have a type of intestinal ulcer, so I have to go fairly often.

My friends and I were complaining about the condition of some of the squat toilets we'd used. One friend had used one where at least four people had used it without flushing, and now it was too big to flush down.

Another friend talked about one restaurant we went to. He opened the squatter door, and there was shit sprayed all over the back rim of the squatter, and there were drops of blood in it. He was so sickened he decided to wait, and he remarked that it must be some unsophisticated person from the countryside.

Er, it was me. My aim is not always the greatest, and I couldn't find the flusher. And the drops of blood are common for the disorder I have.
(racetraitor has an alibi for, Fri 27 Aug 2010, 5:06, 2 replies)

Between you & me
i quite like breasts
( broadsword w⚓, Fri 27 Aug 2010, 4:01, 2 replies)

Hello, internet.
I'm going to tell you all my problems because -- OH FUCK THIS NAME ISN'T COMPLETELY ANONYMOUS.

Wait a second...
( gone, Fri 27 Aug 2010, 3:33, 1 reply)

Dear Ex-girlfriend
Okay. So yes, I said I'd never cheat on you.

That was a lie. I had sex with a grand total of eight other women during our relationship. What can I say? Sorry? I'm not. You were a terrible girlfriend and even worse in bed. And that's saying something.

I also said I quit smoking.

I didn't.

And I also said that I'd stopped getting so hammered that so I'd pass out.

I didn't. I'd simply make up a ludicrous excuse that you'd invariably believe because they were too outlandish not to be a lie. (i.e. "Yeah, my flatmate went ballistic and smashed all the crockery over her head and I had to take her to hospital and you know how they get about mobiles in A&E" when in reality I was upto my armpits in gin getting utterly hammered).

Yes I was a bad boyfriend. So yeah, sorry I guess.
(spiderslut, Fri 27 Aug 2010, 1:11, 2 replies)

apeloverage
isn't my real name.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 27 Aug 2010, 0:59, 9 replies)

I have a secret addiction
to hot chips. The best being crinkle cut. However, I confess that I overdosed on its cousin 10 years ago - potato wedges and sour cream - and now get a little bit of sick in my throat when I even read it on a menu. Sorry hot chip.
(boozehound is drinking your bar dry, Thu 26 Aug 2010, 23:41, 2 replies)

For me and M
M,

Summer holidays; August 15 years ago you were in love. C* was your girlfriend for about 4 months and you were both intending to pop your cherry together. You talked about it with me and A* many times as we had "done the deed"; wanting to make it perfect á la American Pie. You had planned a saturday night with no parents, cheap cider and a double bed. You'd even made me buy you the johnnies as the woman behind the counter in Boots knew your mum.

On the night in question, we went into town as a massive group for the regular saturday night out and all had a few beers. You got wankered and we had to get you in a taxi home, where I put you to bed and then went back into town. It was a hot night and we decided to have a couple more sherberts before heading home. I said I'd bring C* home to you later.

I did. At 4am after screwing her in field behind your house.

I am not proud.

But it was awesome. And I was the reason you split up; not that bloke I pointed out in a night club that you went and threatened. We carried on behind your back for about 2 months before she dumped you for me.

Now I can settle into the rest of my life in peace..

* = names have been protected as he is quite a big bloke now...
(Strump striving for imperfection since, Thu 26 Aug 2010, 23:15, 8 replies)

Wrath on the rails
After a holiday in Cornwall, I was taking a train back up to newcastle. I was very tierd, very uncofortable and very grumpy. A child was running up and down the carrages, screaming, shouting, and generaly being a walking advert for abortion. Due to all public transport being designed for people without legs, my right foot was poking out into the aisle slightly. The child was sprinting up again, coming in fast behind me. Without thinking, I moved my foot. Somthing interesting happens when a size 11 shoe hits the legs of a running 6 year old, brief but spectacular flight. Child goes flying, I suddenly realise what I've done, quickly make sure the kids ok and try not to meet any ones eyes. The child runs out, and dosen't return for the rest of the journey. I noticed a few people looking at me, expecting judgment, but get looks of respect, thanks, and even somthing a kin to sexual gratitude. Well, a couple of people nodded to me any way.
(Mong goose, Thu 26 Aug 2010, 23:11, 1 reply)

Forgive me father
For I have sinned. I've managed to break all except one commandment and enjoyed every minute of it. When I do finally break 'You shall have no other gods before me' do I win a prize?
(Unit, Thu 26 Aug 2010, 22:34, 6 replies)

mum, dad, sofa company
remember that period of several months of phone calls and letter writing, the legal threats, the independent furniture specialist and the various visits that culminated with replacement of the new sofa as it had come apart after only three weeks?

I'm sorry I somehow forgot to tell you that the damage could have been caused by drug-fueled sex with that lad that you didn't like while you were away for a week. Dont worry though, I learnt my lesson and only ever had sex in your bed for the rest of the summer.
(imallamallama looking forward to llamageddon on, Thu 26 Aug 2010, 22:30, Reply)

Something I'm actually proud of...
Dear Paul Daniels,

It was me that sent you those death threats five years ago. You were and still are a complete and utter cunt. The Tesco and Mazuma adverts prove it.

I don't regret a fucking thing!
(chatsharris is making you Bellend brew on, Thu 26 Aug 2010, 22:27, 2 replies)