Profile for emvee:
Moggy's awesome manga version of Rob Manuel and Popbitch
(the original)
Many thanks to JollyJack:
The wonderful Barbarossa made this for me:
Huge props to The Fiend:
I got a Cock Tuesday award once:
Recent front page messages:
Best answers to questions:
[read all their answers]
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Moggy's awesome manga version of Rob Manuel and Popbitch
(the original)
Many thanks to JollyJack:
The wonderful Barbarossa made this for me:
Huge props to The Fiend:
I got a Cock Tuesday award once:
Recent front page messages:
Don't know why but it seemed appropriate
[edit] Woo! First FP! :D :D :D
(Mon 29th Dec 2003, 10:06, More)
[edit] Woo! First FP! :D :D :D
(Mon 29th Dec 2003, 10:06, More)
Best answers to questions:
» Pubs
I've probably told this one before but it's my favourite bar story
Me and my friends (a bunch of crusty grebos to a man) decided that for a bit of fun we'd go out to Wolverhampton for the night, but to try something different. We dressed in our best shirts, shined our shoes, applied hairgel and decided to see what life was like in the "trendy" bars we usually eschewed.
Our skills at going undercover as "Kevs" were woeful - we stuck out like sore thumbs to the point the bouncer described my friend Si as "that one with the shirt" in a bar full of men wearing shirts. The only upshot was that the bar we were in was having a Star Wars night and all the staff were dressed up.
I sidled up to the bar hoping to get served by one of the lucious Leias, but instead found myself confronted with a blond-wigged, judo-suited Luke. I ordered four pints, he fetched them for me and told me the price. Quick as a flash (and grinning like an idiot) I waved my hand in a mysterious way and said "It's okay, I've already paid you for them." He said, "You what?" and I repeated it. He said, "Oh, right" and walked away to serve someone else.
I did the Jedi mind trick on Luke Skywalker. I'd just like to repeat that so that my eight year-old self can feel justifiably proud of his latter-day incarnation: I did the Jedi mind trick on Luke Skywalker.
I'd only meant it as a joke
(Fri 6th Feb 2009, 12:07, More)
I've probably told this one before but it's my favourite bar story
Me and my friends (a bunch of crusty grebos to a man) decided that for a bit of fun we'd go out to Wolverhampton for the night, but to try something different. We dressed in our best shirts, shined our shoes, applied hairgel and decided to see what life was like in the "trendy" bars we usually eschewed.
Our skills at going undercover as "Kevs" were woeful - we stuck out like sore thumbs to the point the bouncer described my friend Si as "that one with the shirt" in a bar full of men wearing shirts. The only upshot was that the bar we were in was having a Star Wars night and all the staff were dressed up.
I sidled up to the bar hoping to get served by one of the lucious Leias, but instead found myself confronted with a blond-wigged, judo-suited Luke. I ordered four pints, he fetched them for me and told me the price. Quick as a flash (and grinning like an idiot) I waved my hand in a mysterious way and said "It's okay, I've already paid you for them." He said, "You what?" and I repeated it. He said, "Oh, right" and walked away to serve someone else.
I did the Jedi mind trick on Luke Skywalker. I'd just like to repeat that so that my eight year-old self can feel justifiably proud of his latter-day incarnation: I did the Jedi mind trick on Luke Skywalker.
I'd only meant it as a joke
(Fri 6th Feb 2009, 12:07, More)
» God
Jehovah's Witnesses
These are great, because they believe the whole Bible is literally true. When they knocked at the door with a 15 year-old girl in tow and me with a raging hangover, I cut to the chase. I addressed the girl directly, and said:
"Noah's Ark, right? All the animals alive today were on board. Well, there are between five and eight million species of beetle in the world. Noah was obviouly a man who spent a lot of his time on his hands and knees looking under logs and stones. And he must have been more resourceful than the entire scientific community from its inception to the present day which has only identified about 350,000 of those species. So, tell me how did Noah get five million species of beetle on the ark?"
She thought about it for a minute, and then said:
"Maybe he only took a few species with them, and they produced all the rest."
"A few species giving rise to a variety of species? We have a word for that."
Shocked, she clasped her hand over her mouth, and gasped:
"Evolution!"
I nodded. She thought about it some more.
"Maybe he cross-bred the beetles to make more species."
"Yep. Still evolution, I'm afraid."
At this point the others are starting to shuffle her away from me.
"And what about freshwater fish? You know, the ones that die if they go in the sea? How much of the ark was aquarium?"
As they ushered her off my doorstep, I saw I'd planted the salmon of doubt.
The older woman with her did come back, and tried to convince me Jesus was an angel. At which point I realised even she didn't know what she was talking about.
(Fri 20th Mar 2009, 10:32, More)
Jehovah's Witnesses
These are great, because they believe the whole Bible is literally true. When they knocked at the door with a 15 year-old girl in tow and me with a raging hangover, I cut to the chase. I addressed the girl directly, and said:
"Noah's Ark, right? All the animals alive today were on board. Well, there are between five and eight million species of beetle in the world. Noah was obviouly a man who spent a lot of his time on his hands and knees looking under logs and stones. And he must have been more resourceful than the entire scientific community from its inception to the present day which has only identified about 350,000 of those species. So, tell me how did Noah get five million species of beetle on the ark?"
She thought about it for a minute, and then said:
"Maybe he only took a few species with them, and they produced all the rest."
"A few species giving rise to a variety of species? We have a word for that."
Shocked, she clasped her hand over her mouth, and gasped:
"Evolution!"
I nodded. She thought about it some more.
"Maybe he cross-bred the beetles to make more species."
"Yep. Still evolution, I'm afraid."
At this point the others are starting to shuffle her away from me.
"And what about freshwater fish? You know, the ones that die if they go in the sea? How much of the ark was aquarium?"
As they ushered her off my doorstep, I saw I'd planted the salmon of doubt.
The older woman with her did come back, and tried to convince me Jesus was an angel. At which point I realised even she didn't know what she was talking about.
(Fri 20th Mar 2009, 10:32, More)
» Impulse buys
I've covered this before on here I think :)
£700 from Camden Market
(Fri 22nd May 2009, 10:50, More)
I've covered this before on here I think :)
£700 from Camden Market
(Fri 22nd May 2009, 10:50, More)
» Crappy Prizes
Bending the rules of the question slightly
My mum is a nursery school headteacher and they were trying to raise funds for the school. Since the Right Hon. Tony Blair MP had been on telly talking how education was his biggest priority she wrote to him asking if there was anything he could do to help. Being something of a smug, patronising cunt, he sent her a signed photo of himself that they could "perhaps use as a prize in a raffle".
On the day, my mum put it in an auction and not wanting to let the nursery down I opened the bidding at £5. Not a single other person wanted it so I ended up taking it home and put it up in our downstairs toilet.
Fast-forward five or six years to today where after this weekend's house party, I have just finished cleaning off the congealed spit and mucus our guests felt obliged to hock onto our esteemed leader's face while they took a piss. You may have won some crappy prizes, but to have won something that people feel compelled to spit on when they visit surely takes the biscuit as the worst prize ever.
(Mon 8th Aug 2005, 12:42, More)
Bending the rules of the question slightly
My mum is a nursery school headteacher and they were trying to raise funds for the school. Since the Right Hon. Tony Blair MP had been on telly talking how education was his biggest priority she wrote to him asking if there was anything he could do to help. Being something of a smug, patronising cunt, he sent her a signed photo of himself that they could "perhaps use as a prize in a raffle".
On the day, my mum put it in an auction and not wanting to let the nursery down I opened the bidding at £5. Not a single other person wanted it so I ended up taking it home and put it up in our downstairs toilet.
Fast-forward five or six years to today where after this weekend's house party, I have just finished cleaning off the congealed spit and mucus our guests felt obliged to hock onto our esteemed leader's face while they took a piss. You may have won some crappy prizes, but to have won something that people feel compelled to spit on when they visit surely takes the biscuit as the worst prize ever.
(Mon 8th Aug 2005, 12:42, More)
» Real-life slapstick
New Year's Day 2004
I wake up with a bit of a hangover - nothing unusual in that - and reach over to the bedside table to put my glasses on. In my stumbling, oafish way, as soon as I touch them I manage to break off one of the arms. Right at the bastard hinge, so there's about 2 square millimetres of metal that could possibly be joined together. I'm in need of superglue, and there's none in the house.
"Bugger," thinks I. "I'll have to go and get some." So it was that I found myself in Woolworths on New Year's Day, trying not to look too green and bilious. I grab a bottle of superglue and pay for it, then retreat to a corner of the store to sort myself out. I burst the seal on the glue and it squirts all over my fingers. Instinctively I put my finger to my mouth. Dammit, I now have superglue on my lip. Never mind, my mouth isn't stuck together and I can chew it off once it's dry. But I still have superglue all over my fingers and I'm in woolies - there's nowhere to wipe my hand, so thinking quickly, I lift my foot and wipe it on the sole of my trainer.
Then carefully (without the aid of my glasses) I apply a little glue to the arm and hold it in place until the glue has set. It's a bit fiddly and requires all my hungover concentration. I'm sure there's something I should be thinking about but for now I can't quite remember what it should be - fixing my glasses is the number one priority. Aw bugger, it didn't quite stick properly. Never mind, try again. After about 20 minutes of this, the security guard is giving the young man with a glazed expression (almost totally blind without my specs) who is fiddling with an open bottle of superglue more than his fair share of attention and the missus is tugging at my arm to leave, but wait! I've done it - I've successfully glued my glasses back together! Never mind that I have dried glue all over my fingers and mouth, I can see again! Triumphantly (but carefully, I don't want to end up gluing the bloody things to my head) I put my glasses back on, put the cap back on the glue and make to leave the store.
At which point I realised I'd glued my trainers to the floor.
(Mon 25th Jan 2010, 12:27, More)
New Year's Day 2004
I wake up with a bit of a hangover - nothing unusual in that - and reach over to the bedside table to put my glasses on. In my stumbling, oafish way, as soon as I touch them I manage to break off one of the arms. Right at the bastard hinge, so there's about 2 square millimetres of metal that could possibly be joined together. I'm in need of superglue, and there's none in the house.
"Bugger," thinks I. "I'll have to go and get some." So it was that I found myself in Woolworths on New Year's Day, trying not to look too green and bilious. I grab a bottle of superglue and pay for it, then retreat to a corner of the store to sort myself out. I burst the seal on the glue and it squirts all over my fingers. Instinctively I put my finger to my mouth. Dammit, I now have superglue on my lip. Never mind, my mouth isn't stuck together and I can chew it off once it's dry. But I still have superglue all over my fingers and I'm in woolies - there's nowhere to wipe my hand, so thinking quickly, I lift my foot and wipe it on the sole of my trainer.
Then carefully (without the aid of my glasses) I apply a little glue to the arm and hold it in place until the glue has set. It's a bit fiddly and requires all my hungover concentration. I'm sure there's something I should be thinking about but for now I can't quite remember what it should be - fixing my glasses is the number one priority. Aw bugger, it didn't quite stick properly. Never mind, try again. After about 20 minutes of this, the security guard is giving the young man with a glazed expression (almost totally blind without my specs) who is fiddling with an open bottle of superglue more than his fair share of attention and the missus is tugging at my arm to leave, but wait! I've done it - I've successfully glued my glasses back together! Never mind that I have dried glue all over my fingers and mouth, I can see again! Triumphantly (but carefully, I don't want to end up gluing the bloody things to my head) I put my glasses back on, put the cap back on the glue and make to leave the store.
At which point I realised I'd glued my trainers to the floor.
(Mon 25th Jan 2010, 12:27, More)