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Profile for Noit:
Profile Info:

What people have said about me:

"Noit is quite clearly a closet homo anyway."- Baldmonkey
"NOIT YOU TERRIBLE SHIT."- BraynDedd
"YOU'VE BEEN WITH NOIT AND HE HAS THE BAD AIDS"- SickRik
"Noit is fucking rubbish and won't come."- Esme
"noit is a social recluse."- SirSandGoblin
"GET OFF MY FUCKING TITS NOIT."- Boudicca
"Noit is dead."- Master of Turnips


A pixelme by wormulus


Another pixelme, this one by FoldsFive

BASH STUFF!
NorthamptonBash '07 Pics
Doctor When vs Red Sushi ULTIMATE VIOLENCE VIDS
Jenpots Northern Bash '07

I play lots of online games, and you can find my various game IDs at Raptr. Join it too so I can get yours.

Recent front page messages:

The old "Dot on a String" trick got Pacman every time


Thank you magic donkey!
(Wed 4th Jun 2003, 19:11, More)

They're Lice Jim


But not as we know them

Woo, first front page! (Only took me a hundred posts and all)
(Fri 23rd May 2003, 17:45, More)

Best answers to questions:

» My Worst Date

February 29th 2004
is a pretty awful date. I mean, if you get born then you don't get a birthday until you're four years old.
(Fri 22nd Oct 2004, 23:05, More)

» In the Army Now - The joy of the Armed Forces

Cadet Darling.
I'll never forget meeting Cadet Darling. I'm sure you've all seen Blackadder. You'll know the amount of fun that can be had at the expense of someone with a name like this. It didn't help his case that he was the reincarnation of Frank Spencer, completely gormless.

The week involved all kinds of amusement derived from giving him orders (I was a corporal, this was air cadets, I was GOD). "DARLING, GET OUT OF BED!" "sorry corporal". "DARLING, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" "sorry corporal". "DARLING, WHERE IS YOUR BERET?" "sorry corporal". You get the picture.

Then Darling's wallet disappeared. He assured me, and a few staff officers, that he'd searched ever inch of his kit and he was sure someone had stolen it. We got all the cadets to search the area and all their own kit to make sure it hadn't got there by accident. No sign of it. As none of the cadets were going anywhere and it was getting late, we told him not to worry and we'd sort it out in the morning.

In t'morning, we got all the cadets lined up for a last "are you SURE you didn't accidentally pocked it" type inquiry before we started shovelling shit in their direction. General "no" type reply, as cadet Darling staggers out of his tent having found it in the suitcase he swore he'd emptied twice.

"DARLING!"
"sorry corporal"
(Sat 25th Mar 2006, 18:26, More)

» Your Weirdest Teacher

Story 2, Mr Burns
This guy shouldn't have been a teacher, he should have been a comedian. Absolute legend, he wasted more than half of any given lesson making everyone roll around laughing and still most of his students got As (even I did).

He was a natural predator, and within his first hour with a class would have picked out four or five students he could turn into the butt of his jokes for the next year. There was Gibbons (the kids surname), who had a rather big head and was subjected to Burnsy dancing around singing "do do do the funky gibbon" and saying "mr gibbons knows everything because it all fits so well into his exceedingly large head". He also decided another (pretty ugly) kid looked like an alien, and frequently offered praise to "the all-powerful alien invaders".

He also used to tell us stories of his days as a medical student, including the time he beat up a load of druggies "they didn't notice, they were too busy going "WHEEEEE!"" (note: he danced around at this point to emphasise how far gone they were), and how some he knew had found a man dead with a broomstick so far up his rectum that it had snapped his spine.

Finally, he is responsible for the game "spoon!", possibly the best way of getting a large group of students to revise anything. Essentially, everyone is lined up against a wall. Burnsy asks a question, and the first to stick their hand up with the correct answer gets to sit down. This is repeated until there is only one left standing, the dunce who couldn't get ANYTHING right. This abomination to intelligence is then made to stand on a chair, while the rest of the class gathers round, pointing and jeering, and everyone shouts "SPOOOOOOOOOOON!" at said thicko at the top of their voice.
(Wed 9th Nov 2005, 23:50, More)

» Your Weirdest Teacher

I've got a load
I'll start with Mr Taylor, chemistry teacher and stereotypical geek. Well, beyond stereotypical. Once he inquired whether anyone in the class had ever tried drinking sulphuric acid. As everyone in the classroom at that time had vocal chords and a pulse, the answer was obviously "no". When he realised this, he said that he was very disappointed with all of us. On another occasiona he asked us if we'd ever smashed open an AA battery and eaten the contents.

Another memorable moment was when he told us how he'd bought his wife (who is apparently quite a looker, although I've never seen her myself) a solar panel for their anniversary.

The fact that he looked like the "good bacteria" man out the yakult adverts was the icing on the cake.
(Wed 9th Nov 2005, 16:45, More)

» Job Interviews

Tesco Express
They have this kind of personality test thing to fill in and hand back to them. They mark your answers and decide whether you're suitable for an interview based on your score.

I handed one of these said forms back to them in the hope of getting a job to earn a bit of extra cash. Luckily I get a call within a week, inviting me in for an interview. ASAP. Really, really ASAP. After twenty minutes of running in circles trying to find a smart pair of smart trousers and shirt, I was directed into the interview room. Things move fast in the shelf-stacking business, doncherknow.

The room was basically the staff tearoom. About five feet square, and with safety notices pinned to the wall. And totally devoid of human life. I'm left there for the best part of twenty minutes when a monkey walks in the door and tells me they've lost my test, and can I do another one please. Fair enough, I think, I'm desperate for the money. So they shove me back in the intervew/tearoom and I fill in the form again. I then sit there for a further twenty minutes, on my own, before anyone turns up to see whether or not I've died.

The monkey then returns to the room to mark my test. Right in front of my he whips out a transparent, place-on-the-top style answersheet that clearly indicates the correct answers. Approximately one in every eight answers is worth any marks, the others all being worth 0. Remember, this is a personality test and not a knowledge quiz, so all the answers are positive things. And I can read the answers from where I'm sat. They've clearly been picked at random, as there is no obvious pattern to them. I also see I've got about 50%. Not bad for a randomised test.

The lord monkey then pulls out the mark scheme for the test. I can see this clearly as well. It is essentially a giant multicoloured arrow covering the page. The top is green, middle is yellow, bottom is red. Each section of the arrow has accompanying sections. It takes him about two minutes to drag his finger all the way down to the red section. He then turns to me, and in all seriousness says "I'm sorry, this says that I shouldn't have invited you to an interview. Can you leave please?".

Needless to say I left, swearing and cursing over the two hours (ish) of my life that I had lost.

I'm not apologising for length, you love it. You slags.
(Fri 21st Jan 2005, 21:53, More)
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