» We have to talk

We need to talk about your sandwich.
I work in an after-schools club that goes full time daycare over the summer. I work with a bunch of tit-heads that think they can dump 14 kids aged 5-12 into a swimming pool and bugger off for tea and fags leaving them in the care of the lifeguards, because none of them has the nerve to don a swimming costume and actually look after the kids, or even thinks to round up the kids and bring them outside when the fire alarm goes off, things like that, so I'm very much trusted and sent on all field trips and they'd be screwed without me.

We have a minibus driver who took his much deserved 3 weeks off last summer, so my boss asked me (as the only other person with a licence) to drive the minibus for those weeks. She couldn't do it because she'd be "too nervous". I pointed out that I didn't have a PSV licence and had never driven anything that size before but I basically wasn't given a choice. Drive the bus or else. So I did. For three weeks I took the kids and a couple of my co workers (who actually are lovely people, just crap at being the grown ups)to the Giants Causeway, Stormont castle, Folk Parks in Omagh etc. I'm 5'1, by the way, and it was a workout for me to reach the pedals and handbrake.


Summer scheme ends and everything goes back to normal. Round about October, I was late several times in one week and the boss calls me in with "We need to talk". I go into her office and immediately start into "I'm sorry, I know I've been late, it won't happen again" etc. No, that's not the problem. I'm being warned for gross misconduct, she says. Gross misconduct?! I'm very taken aback. I pride myself on doing my job very, very well. I also work with other peoples precious babies and was very hurt and upset. What the hell have I done?

Turns out I'd taken the minibus out on my lunchbreak to fill the tank and been seen buying lunch for myself in the service station when I paid for the diesel.

Of course, I immediately tendered my resignation as I'm obviously some evil, dangerous, lunch-purchasing cnut who shouldn't be allowed anywhere near kids lest they witness me consume a sandwich or a mars bar or something equally innocence-shattering. I was told that wouldn't be necessary, but that the warning would go on my record. I suspect my sarcasm went unnoticed.

She ignored my questions about "Didn't you once send the bus to the airport to pick your entire family? And get a lot of stuff taken from your house to the dump? And have it decorated and driven down the road for a parade?". Those are perfectly acceptable things to do with a school minibus, it seems. But buying a sandwich (all service stations should have a Subway... mmm) while paying for fuel is bang out of order.

It was three months after the event too! She'd sat on the knowledge of my heinous behaviour for all that time because she kept forgetting to mention it to me. The woman is utterly, utterly insane. And foriegn. I'd look for another job but the boss is emigrating home at the end of this summer so I won't have to put up with her insanity anymore and intend to start bullying my new boss into running things my way before she can settle in.

I expunged my own record 2 days later too. Now *that's* gross misconduct.
(Fri 20th Apr 2007, 14:16, More)

» When animals attack...

fcuk a dcuk
When I was three, my parents took me to the local Waterworks to feed the ducks and ducklings and the swans.

I was desperately trying to get some bread to a poor, bedraggled duck-runt but a big swan kept getting the way. I was yelling at it to "Go 'WAY!" but it wasn't exactly listening.

So I punched it right in the face.

My mum completely freaked and picked me up and ran away (swans are notoriously nasty pieces of work and it hissed and spread it's wings) and my dad couldn't move for laughing at the way the swan's neck had rippled and it's head had whipped round. Then he remembered some archaic law about swans being the property of the Queen and he legged it too.

First post and being a lady, no apologies for depth.
(Thu 2nd Jun 2005, 16:28, More)

» Nativity Plays

Not my story
But I found this:

Went to Abigail’s school Christmas concert (no “proper” Nativity this year). Each class did a little something followed by a song or 2. Anyway, Ab’s class did a Nativity scene, with Ab as Mary (How proud was I?). A few mins into their bit Ab promptly lifted her dress & shoved baby Jesus up it. The script then wandered away from what they’d learnt & goes as follows….

Joseph: “What are you doing?”
Mary: “I’m feeding our baby”
Shepherd: “Have you got a bottle up there then?”
Mary: “Don’t be silly he’s having milk from my booby”
Joseph: “That’s disgusting”
Mary: “No, that baby milk they have in Tescos is disgusting. My baby’s having proper milk”
Shepherd: “What’s a booby?”
Mary: “Those sticky out bits ladies have”
Shepherd: “They’re not boobies, they’re nipples”
Mary: “No they’re not, they’re boobies”
Joseph: “So why can’t Jesus have milk from a bottle then?”
Mary: “Because I haven’t got a breast pump with me - you forgot to put it on the donkey”
Shepherd: “Can’t you ask the teacher for a bottle to feed Jesus with?”
Mary: “No because this is the best way to feed Jesus. Anyway bottles haven’t been invented yet & even if they were I’ve just had a baby so if you think I’m faffing about round Tescos to buy baby milk when I make proper milk in my boobies you can think again”


Here: www.hunnybeez.co.uk/hunnybeez-nativity-breastfeeding
(Tue 31st Mar 2009, 16:06, More)

» Common

Sweaty pikey boob change
I have no delusions of grandeur having been brought up in a large, single parent family in working-class Belfast but these antics are beneath even me.

My stepfather plays in a band and during his gigs my mother sits a table and sells the band's cds and merchandise.

During a gig last year a crowd of gypsies/travellers/persons of dubious personal hygiene and ethics (or whatever the PC term is these days) came gallivanting in. They were having a great time dancing away (all women, I should add) and one spectactularly obese example in her 40's literally latched onto the drunkest young man in the room and dry humped him in the middle of the dancefloor whilst simultaneously sucking his entire face and neck purple.

Whilst I was doubled up with mirth at the floorshow, another woman came up to my mum, selected a disc and asked her how much the cds were. My eye was slowly drawn to the fact that her hand was rummaging about down her shirt. Ach well, I've been known to shove a £20 in my bra to save me from carrying a handbag too.

"£10 or €15 each"

"Oh, that's great" she said *rummage rummage rummage* and with a great flourish, she pulls out a HUGE handful of tuppences and nuggets from under her thrupenny bits. "Here, count it out!" she said to my totally appalled mother.

I was so repulsed and convulsed with laughter that I had to flee to the safety of the Ladies... only to find three more traveller ladies sitting side by side on the thrones, doors wide open, happily chatting away to each other.

Klassy.
(Sun 19th Oct 2008, 19:19, More)

» I was drunk when I bought this

when curry attacks
On a date, hella drunk, stopped off for a kebab, natch, but decided to get a lovely Indian veggie curry too because I had the evil munchies. I couldn't even finish the kebab and I had to get a cab, so I shoved the sealed curry in my handbag and went home with the intentions of watching a bit of tv and eating in bed. Of course, I passed out as soon as I could smell pillow.

A week later was the day of my driving test, so I went searching for my bag to fetch my provisional licence. I pulled it out from under my bed, to find a rancid exploded curry all over the contents. My licence was now a lovely shade of orange and bits of broccoli were stuck to my pic and it smelled like Bombay.

I passed, because I rule. Not because I wore a minikilt, oh no.
(Sun 12th Jun 2005, 1:10, More)