I once shot a Deputy Sheriff
and some black lad who had previously shot the Sheriff got done for both murders.
(TheManWithThePlan cussed your mum on, Thu 25 Oct 2012, 10:00, 1 reply)

Looks like someone dropped me in it last week.
And then someone else turned up pretending to be me!

How much fun was that?
(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Thu 25 Oct 2012, 7:08, 5 replies)

I got a fifteen year old girl in trouble last month.
I told her mum that she'd started smoking.
( Dr Preference AjcuiVd289, Thu 25 Oct 2012, 0:23, 4 replies)

when i was at school
we had a neo-nazi PE teacher. You know the type...

Anyway, he decided that our double PE would be spent swimming or playing water polo. Those of us without costumes that day, 3 of s, were to spend the time running around the field. Whoever finished last would have to do 20 pushups/50 squats etc and then catch up while running with a tyre - continue for 2 hours.

Quickly on I came up with a plan. If we all took turns and synced our run up then we could all do the punishment without anyone unduly suffering. We'd all take turns coming last.

So, the first run went to plan, but when it came to my turn to take the punishment I sped up slighty and didn't come last. The guys were not amused, but I said I was nervous and would do it properly next time. For 2 hours I sped up just at the end while the other 2 guys got hammered.

They were not happy when they caught up with me after the class.

Aah school days...
( zulu eh?, Wed 24 Oct 2012, 15:50, 2 replies)

A scream
The street, shiny with slippery rain, was watched over by a thousand cyclopic cameras, silently observing the wretched scenes that played out every day. The rain eroded more than the concrete facades. People shrank, horrified, at that most perverse terror of all: the destruction of the human spirit.

Night and day had little to distinguish them. The continual deluge from a sky bruised with thunderheads that never broke kept the sun out; neon signs, blinking, reflected from every surface like a disco ball in a fairground hall of mirrors. Distorted, debased, advertisements shone and re-shone, the message becoming both fainter and more pronounced with each reflection.

Shuffling like cattle, people trudged, heads down, silent. Cars drove past in a constant stream, pausing only to acknowledge red lights and allow the flow of humanity to move from one capillary to another. And still the rain came.

Rising like a belch, a single man lifted his head and lifted his fists, shaking them in fury against the flickering neon. He screamed for eight full seconds, his throat becoming raw and his breathing ragged. Somewhere, a silent alarm sounded, and men employed to protect the property of the state began to assemble.

The screamer sunk back into the crowd as the police cars arrived. With an almost imperceptible gesture, he told the gathered officers that the man standing next to him was guilty of the disturbance. A policeman placed his gloved hand on the accused, gripping tightly, making escape impossible. The crowd dispersed, their trudging slightly faster than before. Gloved hands wrought with the might of justice pulled the man away as he screamed in terror. The screams convinced the police that they had their man; a swift dig to the abdomen soon stopped his noise. The screamer was, by now, long gone. The rain continued as the police cars disappeared as quickly as they came.
(SalariosDecentes was under the radar on, Wed 24 Oct 2012, 15:38, 4 replies)

I started a rumour that has persisted to this day
That the 80s Dj David Jenson used to have kleptomania to the point that he couldn't go a day without stealing a packet of Cadbury's shortbread sticks covered in chocolate.

It has now become an urban myth that Kid Robs Fingers.
( Rotating Wobbly Hat That's not a banana. THIS is a banana., Wed 24 Oct 2012, 15:06, 2 replies)

School bastards
My secondary school had split lunches for different years
My mate mark and I were Year Prefects
a physics classroom had two doors, but only one worked, the other had a desk behind it
When we were at lunch they had a class.
On day we both kicked the shit out of the desk door as we passed
The physics teacher flew out of the class screaming at us, we said it was another kid who ran past us outside
He said go and get him, so we walked outside grabbed a random kid saying a teacher wanted to talk to him
We knocked on the door, opened it and pushed him inside, saying "here he is " closing the door
All we heard was the teacher screaming at this kid for about 5 mins
Never heard a thing about it afterwards though
(flashbackjack, Wed 24 Oct 2012, 11:16, 1 reply)

I got my missus pregnant once.

( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Wed 24 Oct 2012, 10:16, 13 replies)

In the late 1960s I worked for Paramount as an intern
between school and college. I was lucky enough to help out on the costume side of the original Star Trek series, although I didn't get to do the costumes for the stars (I said "Hi" to Leonard Nimoy once or twice, though) I did work with a lot of the supporting cast. This included the ones dressed as aliens and so on, and occasionally the puppeteers who worked some of the less "humanoid " characters. Some of their costumes or puppets were so tight - fitting that it took two of us to help/zip/sew them into them, and it could be a bit of a rush on a tight filming schedule, too.









Yes, I used to get people into Tribbles.
(localboy purveyor of pisspoor puns, Wed 24 Oct 2012, 8:50, 10 replies)

If You Can't Beat 'Em
I had a job with the Yorkshire Space Agency where I had to persuade people to go and look through this fuck-off telescope and then tell their mates how great it was.

Yup - my job was getting people into t'Hubble.
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Wed 24 Oct 2012, 5:15, 11 replies)

Shocking true story
It was the first time I had talked her into coming back to my place.
For months I had been trying to convince her of how much I liked and respected her. What an upstanding member of the community I was. It was hard for she was the parson’s daughter and would cop no nonsense from any of the lads in our town.

Finally after a night out spending hundreds of dollars on dinner, movies, dancing but, of most importance those very expensive girly drinks laced with buckets of potent top shelf booze, she agreed to return with me to my pad.

The taxi ride home was surprising, she willingly allowed me to caress and hold her while kissing her passionately. When not kissing her I whispered stories into her ear of my strength and the many victories I had had fighting hard men such as Mr. T. The flickering light of the street lights as the taxi drove along showed her profile in an alluring light and I was sure it was only a matter of time before she was swept off to be made into a super model and the realization this would be my one chance to have her.

Once we had arrived at my abode, I embraced her firmly; kissing her deeply and slowly removed her coat, I felt her firm hard body as I held her in my well defined manly arms. I swept her up and carried her to the bedroom, laying her gently on the mattress of my king sized four poster bed.

As continued to kiss her I slowly removed her clothing and kissed every inch of her glorious body. As I tasted her woman hood, she came to life and it was shocking to see her break from the bounds of her chaste demeanour to become the wild wanton woman I hoped she would be.

Our love making was wild and frenzied moving between many positions. As I pleasured her in a mad and carefree way from behind while she knelt on hands and knees and she moaned and squealed in ecstasy.
Suddenly from the heavens there was a clash of thunder and all the lights in the house and street where extinguished. The fright of the thunder caused us both to jump and we where momentarily disconnected.

“Don’t stop” she cried “we don’t need lights, our passion will light the world”

I positioned myself and returned to thrust into her but, without the lights to see what we were doing I slipped ......................... and then I really was in the shit.
-pass me my hat and coat-
(bad_advice QOTW survivor from the first trollocost!, Wed 24 Oct 2012, 4:53, Reply)

Deserves pun ishment
My uncle was a rather light on his feet milliner working in Russia. He was approached by the KGB to use his cutting and sewing skills to help the spying department. The plan was to take high denomination currency notes and insert an undetectable lens into the paper so that agents could eyeball suspects whilst ostensibly counting money.
It was a gay t' ing hatter peephole into t' rouble.
( edjogs Collared doves are shit., Tue 23 Oct 2012, 20:15, 2 replies)

MASSIVE DRUGS LOLS
We were all smoking quite a lot of cannabis in those days. A group of about 8 of us, and he wanted to become a naval officer. He was keen, but he also liked smoking cannabis, which, as eny fule no, does not mix with a career in the military.

So when he finally got his offer of an interview for six months hence, he vowed to us all that he was going to get his shit together.

After this smoke.

And maybe another toke.

Who's hungry?

One more toke, then that's it - the straight and narrow for him from then on.

On the day of the interview, we put him onto the train stoned off his gourd, where, we assured him, he'd straighten out during the three-hour journey.

He walked in to a panel of 10 officers featuring various amounts of fruit salad on their tits, and was invited to sit in the small seat in the middle of the room.

The first question was "What do you think the Prime Minister should do to increase relations with the president of (whatever bumblefuck country it was)?"

He stood up, apologized in the vague manner of the stoner he was, instructed them that he was wasting their time and his, and walked out.



Epilogue:

He's now done two tours of Iraq as a commissioned officer in the army, and I believe is about to be promoted to Colonel.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Tue 23 Oct 2012, 17:32, 5 replies)