Stag do.
Due to fairly central location and living on my own it was a friend asked to base his small stag do at my house. A few weeks later I met up with my friend and his fiance who asked if it had been a good evening and if everyone had managed to find their way back to mine from the nightclub I think due to a number of the intendees failing to find the caravans they were staying in after a night out. One person hadn't but as I had accounted for Intended husband and other friends who were married/engaged I replied brightly "Yes. All except one." As the words were coming out of my mouth I remembered the "one" was actually her engaged brother.
(jvz, Tue 23 Oct 2012, 17:11, 1 reply)

FFS
Last week I was conducting some research on the attitudes of people within a small municipality in the Schleswig-Holstein region of Germany towards the urine of animals within the sub-family Lutrinae when an almost biblical type event occured.

A man in front of me blew as hard as he could on a child's Fisher Price trumpet causing the building in from of him to fall to the ground in large chunks of stone plaster and dust.

Bugger me I thought

This is what you could call

Gelting Otter Pee Polling toot rubble
(magic the cat will someone please think of the kittens, Tue 23 Oct 2012, 15:08, 3 replies)

Apparently someone dobbed someone in last week.

(s0ckpupp3tacc0unt looks a lot like someone very similar. Hmmm..., Tue 23 Oct 2012, 13:39, 25 replies)

We're in the shit!
All three of us.. we had been accused of creating an elaborate board game called "Tramp Grand Prix 2000" in double-art on a wednesday afternoon, and that apparently all the characters in it were based on the guy that had grassed us up and his family members.

We needed a plan, an alibi.. something.. the lying part of my brain burst into action and scrambled like 12 angry men for something, anything that may be of use.

And magically, all on the spot all three of us said that "but sir.. he said we bum our dads"

That as daft as it sounds now was enough evidence to disprove all allegations and turn the punishment back onto the guy who had dobbed us in.

I forget his punishment... was a good game though, and beautiful attention to detail on the vehicles.

/pop
(Emmon Ctrl+Shift+T re-opens that tab you just closed, Tue 23 Oct 2012, 13:22, Reply)

My uncle didn't really touch me
sorry,

but I told you to buy me that electonic Simon.
(magic the cat will someone please think of the kittens, Tue 23 Oct 2012, 13:05, Reply)

The former England cricketer Mike Gatting
Had relatives living in the same village as my brother and sister-and-law. Gatting as you might remember is a typical, if not exemplary, Essex Boy, and his family were the same. They would all sit in their ample back garden in the summer evenings getting loudly drunk, even the Gatting matriarch, a feisty old crone who liked her tipple.

One time I was just walking past when I saw the mother stand up, clutching a glass of a double gin and tonic. The silly old biddy was so drunk that she slipped, knocking her spectacles into her brimming glass.

It was Gatting Mother's peepers into doubles.
(McChinaman banned, Tue 23 Oct 2012, 12:58, 3 replies)

The smell of shite.
We were visiting our family in Ireland, some of my relatives are farmers. We were staying with our Grandmother, who is not currently a farmer nor does she live on a farm. However, our Grandmother’s main activity was to guilt you in to eating lots (as she would never eat it and it would just be a waste) then berate you for eating too much.

During this visit I consumed things in quantities that would not appear in usual diet, probably a whole fruit cake followed by 3 pints of blue lemonade. Anyway, my guts started to complain.

There I was sat at the kitchen table, guts struggling. My younger brother (about 6 at time) comes in through the back door after playing in the snow. I help him off with his hat, gloves, coat and a silent fart escapes.

Miss Marple, Poirot, CSI, have nothing on my Grandmother as far as detecting the possible sources for the smell of shite or piss, for that matter. It was almost as if the shite-alarm went off and source must be found - gather the extended family there is a stool on the loose. So, I lied I said very firmly it was my brother’s coat, it must have got shite on it when he was visiting the farm.

So, off I went and put it in the washing machine – it took a good few days to dry. So, my little brother had to watch from the window as we played in the snow. Just for the record I was about 16 at the time.
(Free pens 100, 101, 102 is still counting on, Tue 23 Oct 2012, 10:46, Reply)

Getting other people in trouble, eh?
www.b3ta.com/questions/offtopic/post1762996
www.b3ta.com/questions/offtopic/post1763000

One of these links is for a now deleted wank fantasy a certain married b3tan (battered), posted about a female b3tan (P*ppet - name changed to protect the innocent).

More lurid details of his filthy dirty perviness can be found here; www.b3ta.com/talk/7584660
(quintsy, Tue 23 Oct 2012, 10:43, 23 replies)

Sanitation Issues
I had just got home the evening prior after being away for a while early the next morning there was an urgent knocking on my front door.
I struggled out of bed and opened the door to find the garbage collector standing there.

“Where’s ya bin” he asked.

“I been on holidays” I said,

“nah nah, where’s ya bin”

“I told ya already, I been on holidays”

“mate” he sighed, “where’s your wheelie bin”

“ahh fuck it, I really been in gaol but, I tell everyone I been on holiday, so keep it to your self”

The rotten bastard then told everyone in my street, and no one would talk to me or invite me over from then on.

www.hotfrog.com.au/Companies/Australian-Waste-Management-Recycling-Wheelie-Bins/Nylex-Wheelie-Bins-4317 - visuals for the uniformed, now surprisingly horse free.
(bad_advice QOTW survivor from the first trollocost!, Tue 23 Oct 2012, 2:54, 2 replies)

I convinced my pals to take revenge on the wrong culprit
George Jr. and Tony aren't the swiftest but it did take some convincing. Look, I said, he had to be the one, he insulted your dad and he has all these weapons of mass destruction.
I had the slightest twinge of regret when I saw him doing the bird dance on the end of a rope, but it didn't last long.
(the other guy not the one that gave you coochie warts, Tue 23 Oct 2012, 1:29, Reply)

Fart
I have two friends who are just LOVELY.
He is a big bloke, tall, bald, thick specs, not the prettiest of fellas.
She is a tiny lady, very girly and innocent looking.
They went out for drinks one night and the bar was packed to the rafters. After finally fighting their way to the bar, they were served just as she let out a rather large guff, one of those ones that are hot as it comes out, and you just KNOW it's going to stink like rotten corpses.
As they sipped their drinks he looked at her and whispered 'Have you just fucking farted, it STINKS'
As she moved away, she looked at him laughing, and mouthed 'Yep. But everyone here is going to think that it's YOU'
( Herb Alpert's Taxi Driver I have very beautiful lips, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 21:25, 6 replies)

as I may have mentioned before...
I work as a fridge engineer. The company I used to work for had trackers on all the company vehicles, so big brother could make sure you weren't sat in a cafe / pub / at home watching TV. I can understand why because most of the people there were workshy numpties who spend more time trying to get as much as possible for the least amount of effort. One of said 'numpties' was John...

John was a real obnoxious bastard. And often mistook being a downright cunt as 'banter'. Such gems as "your daughter is going to be fit when she's older..." Said daughter is in primary school.

John always boasted that he could disable his vehicle tracker so he could use the van for personal use when he wasn't working. We all know how to do it, but choose not to as its not worth the hastle if we got caught. Anyway, John did... And he was keen to let us all know that he was doing work on the side, using the companys van and tools and how much money he was making from doing it.

One weekend, he had finished fitting a unit in a butchers and drove off in his usual style (like a maniac). However one of the countless people he had pissed off had decided to exercise their own justice for Johns relentless cuntiness and attached a one side or a chain to his axle and the other side to a lampost. As it pulled tight it swung his van into a parked car. I'm sure he would have drove away had he not been padlocked to the post.

Whoever did it has never fessed (to me anyway). I'd have loved to have seen his fat face when it happened.
(Fridgy, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 21:11, 4 replies)

Annoyatron
An "annoyatron" is a small circuitboard with a magnet on it that makes random beeping noises like a digital watch.

I didnt know I needed one of these things until I spotted them for sale on a site in the US. I clearly did need them so I bought a batch.

The first one I stuck onto the back of a work colleagues (and good friend) desk, after everyone had left for the evening and promptly forgot about it.

3 weeks later I happen to be in that part of the office to find my friend literally shouting at the guy on the desk next to him, "its your fucking phone man, get rid of it or Ill get rid of you !!", "fuck off its not me!", situation had clearly got to a boiling point and violence was about to occur between these 2 large men.

I ask them whats going on and am told there is a random beeping noise getting on everyones nerves.

they have already swapped out 2 of the PCs and had the smoke detector replaced..

lol, oops.

At this point I admitted it was me and showed them the circuit board - they were actually more thankful that the mystery was resolved than anything else.

Am still good friends with him.

The second went home with another work colleague on his last day, slipped into the bag he used to take his stuff home with him.

I expected him to take it home and wonder wtf is that sound and eventually find it so I wrote my name on the back of it, thinking we could have a good laugh about it when he found it

but no. The bag got left in his car for a week, then got quickly emptied and was used to take his stuff to glastonbury (yes the big festival).

So the bag was in his tent in a field beeping away. there were a few pissed off people - eventually ending up with a gang shaking his tent telling him to stop it or he will be set fire to. In words that are not that nice.

he did find it after a thorough search , not having realised it was him.

We dont talk anymore.


I still have some left though, just waiting for the right time.
( pregnantfridge, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 14:51, 15 replies)

YEAH SO LIKE I WAS JABBERS THE HAT AND I GOT THIS HAND SOLO GUY INTO LOTS OF TROUBLE LOLOLOLOLOLOL
ACTUALLY IT WAS STAR WARS LOLOLOLOLOL
( 2 Can Chunder Word to your mums, I came to prod bums, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 14:18, 12 replies)

Bloody students
Living in rented accommodation a while back, I had neighbours who had the most random, unpredictable waking hours ever. Never any sign of them during the day, but I'd regularly hear them shuffling and bumping about in the middle of the night, and the soundproofing in the place was so crappy that every sound echoed right through the walls.

Eventually I got so cheesed off with this that I called the council, and a couple of weeks later the boys in uniform turned up and carted off the lot of them. Thought that was a bit harsh, frankly.
( .Yeti. El amor en los tiempos del cólera, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 13:55, 11 replies)

Obligatory
There was this one time when an old friend of mine had fallen in with a bad crowd, some bloody little princess that fancied playing the rebel for a few years, and the authorities were looking for him. Anyway, he shows up at my place, bold as brass, with the balls to be driving the same hunk of junk that he won off me in a bet - fair and square my arse. Anyway, I made a deal that would keep the empire out of my cloud city forever. That fucking showed him.
(cutofyourjib, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 12:52, 3 replies)

Amiga 500
Many years back my brother got an Amiga 500 which was his pride and joy I was told I was not allowed near it. I used to get home earlier from school than him and would sneak into his room and play on it, he caught me once and as a result was subjected to an evening of torture, continous wedgies (or melvins), held over the top floor bannister etc etc.

At the time there was a lad who I didn't really like who was always trying to hang around with me, so being a crafty bastard I invited him over after school, put him in front of the Amiga and left the room when I heard my brother arrive home.

Unfortunately the plan back fired as my brother wasn't about to start bullying someone else's child, as a result I took the full punishment while my victim sat and laughed at me.

The End
(kendohmassif Fritzl Burger Monkey Chode, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 10:07, 1 reply)

When I was a courier long ago my controller once got me into loads of shit by sending me out to the darkest depths of west London, where my bike attracted the unwelcome attention of a couple of wankers. I only noticed they were after me once I got back into Fitzrovia, when the chase really began. It resulted in me going for it through all the roads and ally ways I could think of, and at one point weaving in and out of on coming cars the wrong way on Harley street. Dramatic stuff, and they really must have wanted my bike.

Fortunately for me, when I pulled them out of Duchess Street onto Portland Place, I spotted one of my colleagues at the end of the road waiting to pull out.

This was 'Croc' an Aussie biker, over here for some reason, who was both huge and a bit mental. Talk about a 'and breathe moment.' My two potential robbers suddenly stood down at the other end of the street.

The oddest, and ironic bit to this memory, is the two fuckers actually still bothered to follow us back to the office in Foley Street, and my controller, Rob, went ballistic when I told him of my close encounter, and the fact they were outside. He was a small guy, but hard as nails; and old school when it comes to looking after your own; such as me. When I pointed out one of the wankers he calmly removed his watch, got up and went outside and beat the living shit out of one them, with such sudden violence his mate recoiled in terror. I watched that bit from where Rob should have been sat out the window, and remember seeing Croc laughing his head off as Rob punched the living shit out of this bloke. And that was a beating you seldom see. At no point did he give the cunt any opportunity to disengage, the bombardment was simply breathtaking.

Nice one Rob :)
( Jahled Three shades of black, Sun 21 Oct 2012, 23:44, 1 reply)

This one time I suggested a QOTW to Scaryduck and hardly anybody bothered replying.

( Dr Preference AjcuiVd289, Sun 21 Oct 2012, 22:36, 5 replies)

I don't like salad
No particular reason, I'm just not very fond of it. So when me and a group of classmates were eating lunch in the canteen of Essex University (we were on a school trip there) I had eaten my panini and left the side salad alone. As Mr D our physics teacher strolled up I, quick as a flash, shovelled the spare salad from my plate onto my friend Dan's (clean) plate while his back was turned.

Mr D: "Dan, you should really learn to eat your salad like MatJ has".

Dan: "But... but... but..."

(Mr D strolls off again)

Dan: "You bastard"



To my shame, we were both 18 at the time.
( MatJ LOOK, Sun 21 Oct 2012, 20:17, 1 reply)

Friend of mine
In "Sol" nightclub in Bury a few years back (before they demolished it. Obviously). It was 3 bottles of WKD - or something similarly awful - for the price of 1. Very responsible offer.

Anyway, my friend went to the bar and then stood on the upper level at the top of the stairs leaning on the balcony, next to another chap who had also just visited the bar and had three bottles with him.

He put his three bottles on the balcony and proceeded to start drinking one of them. He then accidentally knocked one of them off, which smashed on the dancefloor below.

Now, there used to be a problem in Sol with drunken wankers thinking it was funny to deliberately throw bottles into the middle of the dancefloor from the upper levels. It was that kind of place. Cue one very pissed off looking bouncer making a beeline straight up the stairs to where my mate was.

What happened next was, I think, one of the most quick witted (for someone who was pissed at least) things I've ever seen:

My mate, realising he's about to get thrown out by the bouncer, very quickly and quietly reaches over and grabs one of the extra bottles the guy next to him had just bought and put it with his own. The bouncer came up the stairs, took one look at them both, counted the number of bottles they both had, and then carted the other bloke off, to much protestation.

Once he was out of sight, my mate then helped himself to the other bottle, now standing unattended.
( PMGT -Bacon., Sun 21 Oct 2012, 15:08, 11 replies)

Getting others into trouble
I pinned a murder rap on another guy but he got off too. Then he lost a civil case against him by Nicole and Ron's family and is doing prison time on an unrelated charge. Ha-ha-ha!
(Devilbabytales, Sun 21 Oct 2012, 4:56, Reply)

as I write this I realise how bad it is...
When I was 17, I started going to raves and during my 'honeymoon period' of ecstatic appreciation, I would do anything i could to get down to the local rave pit, and get amongst it.

One weekend, I really wanted to go and see this certain DJ, but had little to no money to fund my evening of entertainment. I started looking around the house for things to sell, this being my mum's house... I found a mobile phone with a Winnie the Pooh cover on it. My little sisters phone (she was 10, so I somehow managed to convince myself that this was just). I took her phone down to the local crack converters, and got £22 for it. Then spent that money on drugs.

After a few days, my mum asked me if I had seen it, and I said that I hadn't. So she developed a theory that this guy (a known rogue) who had been doing some manual work in the house had stolen it. Obviously I didn't disagree with her. Needless to say, he wasn't invited back to do any work.

One day I will confess to this. But, maybe when I'm older.
(Spyan in Swedish I am 'The Sick', Sun 21 Oct 2012, 0:26, 16 replies)

I reckon I've got about 60 people criminal records over the last ten years
Fare evasion, giving false details, abusive language, criminal damage, trespass. All sorts of stuff. Hang on, no. That's people being stupid and me helping them to a natural conclusion. Fuck em. I get overtime for being a witness in prosecutions and I'm a massive cunt.
(bogus official shove it up your cunt, Sat 20 Oct 2012, 14:06, 7 replies)

I made a tree house with a slide and an outdoor kitchen with a wood fired oven and a shed with lots of shelves.
And some equipment that's currently bobbling around the sun-earth lagrangian peering into SPACE.
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Sat 20 Oct 2012, 11:00, 4 replies)

Title with a pun in it.
Humorous anecdote about a prank involving a latrine.
(Elephant Balderdash attempting to bottle the absurd, Fri 19 Oct 2012, 21:55, 28 replies)

The last flight of the Highfields Stuka Squadron
I spent most of my school career blending in with the crowd. If naughtiness happened I was usually the idiot who got the blame rather than the instigator.
Except once. Let me tell you about it.
One lunchbreak, during the early years of the Thatcher administration a group of bored young boys -6 or 7 of us - were lurking at one end of the playgound - and somehow I came up with the idea of playing Stukas.
The iconic WW2 divebomber is famous for two things. The crooked wings and the bowel-loosening howl that came from the underwing sirens every time it went into an attack dive.
(And being hacked out of the sky by Spitfires, obviously)
Over on the other side of the playground a small group of girls were minding their own business unaware that the next few minutes were about to get very, very unpleasant.
Suddenly a small boy sprinted past, arms outstretched - but slightly bent - and on his way past he let out an unearthly howl at the top of his lungs.
EEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIOOOOOWWWWW
Before the startled young ladies could react the next had started his attack run. EEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIOOOOOWWWWW
And the next.
And the next, and the next, each one screaming as he went past.
We may have gone back and done a bit of strafing, memory is unclear. The point is, when the last Stuka trotted off round the bikesheds we left a gaggle of slightly deafened girls having a hysterical sobbing fit.
Retribution came as soon as we arrived back at the classroom. As our homeroom teacher looked on with harsh, icy eyes, our victims picked out their tormentors and they joined the shamefaced parade at the front of the class.
"Was anybody else involved in this affair." thundered the teacher, a man reputed to have put pupils in hospital.
The girls took one long look around the classroom, but utterly failed to notice the specky kid sat right at the front desperately trying to look innocent.
My fellow Stukas were led away to punishment and humiliation, and I watched them go thinking "Thank fuck for that."
The Stuka Squadron flew no more after that and I spent the rest of my school career carefully avoiding any more bloody stupid ideas.
(Big D, Fri 19 Oct 2012, 18:51, 3 replies)

Badness is not genetic.
My dad was a bit wayward at school, so much younger that when his younger brother started senior school the teacher boomed "Are you Arthur Barnetboy's brother?" When my uncle replied yes, the teacher said "You've got detention, you'll probably be just as bad"

Day one, detention and the cane just for being related to badness. My uncle went on to have a long and distinguished career in the Police and will regale a willing audience for hours on end with tales of tomfoolery and jolly japes but I'll save that for another QOTW.........

.....apart from the time he battered an innocent motorist half to death as the number plate on the guy's van was one digit away from a van used as a getaway vehicle after a bank robbery............... or when he dined on roast swan cooked by an RSPCA officer and they both nearly got sacked.
(Barnetboy, Fri 19 Oct 2012, 18:03, 2 replies)

With friends like that...
The old classic, passing pervy notes around at the back of class during an afternoon maths lesson in high school. Six of us were involved, all sniggering, all joining in and no one objecting, though muggins here was the one who got caught trying to dispose of the note as I had done most of the writing. So there we all are, hauled before the head of year, heads bowed, feeling ashamed, those terrible words ringing in our ears 'disappointed', 'adolescent behaviour' (you all know the ones, you've all heard them before)...
...anyway, I was called back in to the head of year's office the next day for a chat. Apparently my five 'closest' mates had all sneaked back after the end of that school day and blamed it all on me. "I just thought you ought to know what your 'friends' are like." she said. "I know all of you were involved." The fuckers.
(donkiddick, Fri 19 Oct 2012, 16:14, 3 replies)