I sent a cv for a job last week. I re-read it again today and as a placeholder in the skills section I'd written "I once fucked a puppy" until I could think of a final one to round it out
then forgotten to replace it.
I've not heard back from them yet.
It's a nice job and would allow me to work in a country I want to live. Maybe this will be where it all went wrong.
( cumquat may will not be commenting further on the allegations, Mon 4 Mar 2013, 20:42, 15 replies)

Mowing the yard
It all went wrong when I decided to mow the yard. Well, a few minutes later, actually. I filled the fuel tank, primed the carburettor and heaved on the starter cord. Away she went, but a few seconds later there was a squeal and smoke appeared at the top of the motor.

Oh dear, whatever can be the matter?

I stopped the motor. The starter cord had not retracted fully, so I removed the starter assembly and sure enough, it was looped around the starter clutch instead of only the pulley.

Darn it, more expense.

I consulted the Briggs and Stratton site on-line. A new pulley was cheap, so that was encouraging, but any details on repairs were absent, since my 15 year old mower was no longer covered. What to do, oh what to do?

Well there is a mower repair and sales centre not far away, so I used plan B, the good old Yellow Pages.

"Do you handle Briggs and Stratton motors?"

"Yes."

O joy! Oh bliss!. I leapt into the car, taking the assembly with me. Ten minutes later I walked through the door and handed the offending article to the man behind the counter.

"Not a problem" he said, and disappeared into the workshop. I heard the hiss of compressed air and a few rattles. Five minutes later he was back, holding the thing upside down.

"I've just oiled it, don't turn it up the other way for a while until the oil soaks in."

Sure enough, a little puddle of oil sloshed about in the spring compartment.

"We normally charge $35 per hour, but that only took five minutes. That will be $20 thanks. Did you oil the clutch at the top of the motor, by any chance?"

Nonplussed, I answered that I had not, so he told me to do it.

"Any oil will do."

Well it was a cheap fix. I got home, put some oil around the clutch thingy and went in for lunch.

The oil around the starter spring had soaked in by then so I replaced the starter assembly, counted to three, crossed my fingers and pulled the starter cord. Great! That's fixed and it didn't cost a bomb. So now I've got the mower running I'll do the front yard.

Oops, I forgot that steel stake. There was a clang and the mower started to shake. Bugger, broken blade. But no, three of the four blades were twisted inward. To fix that I'll have to put the mower on it's side and to do that I'll have to drain the fuel tank. I got a nice mouthful of petrol from not letting go of the siphon quickly enough. Put the garden hose in your mouth, silly.

Not being completely stupid, I disconnected the spark plug. I found I could not swing the three blades back with one hand while holding the disk with the other, so grandfather's ball peen hammer came into play. Five minutes banging away and they were back in the right places.

What was that gurgling sound? Bloody hell, moving the disk pumped oil from the sump out of the four stroke motor. No oil in the motor, it was on the motor and on the base plate instead. And I'd just changed the oil two weeks before. At least that flushed out the remains of the old oil. There was just enough left in the bottle.

Of course oil was dripping from the spark plug. Soak it in mineral turps for a few minutes, wipe with cloth, a quick scratch with a wire brush and it's as good as new. Pull the starter cord a few times to blow out any loose stuff in the cylinder, replace the spark plug and Robert was my avuncular relative.

Now I have to clean up the mess.
(Redemption blamed it on the Bossa Nova since, Wed 6 Mar 2013, 4:41, 13 replies)

When I spotted two young women
in micro-skirts walking towards me one November evening and the first thought that crashed across my mind was:

'I bet their legs are cold.'

I was 39.
( Larry Death Anger Pain Fear Aggression, Sat 2 Mar 2013, 22:10, 2 replies)

Oxford University, 1996
A young emvee had been encouraged by his school to apply to Oxford and with an interest in doing PPE at Jesus College, I attended an open day there. I quite liked the university and understood that if the "informal" chat with the Professor went well I'd be offered a place, so along with about 20 other prospective students I trooped into his study and found myself somewhere to sit. He'd just about got into the introduction when there was a knock at the door and this girl arrived late.

She was a 10, no question, with beautiful brunette hair, lovely face and a stunning body - I was more or less smitten at first sight. Being late, there weren't any chairs left so the Professor rummaged around behind his desk and managed to find her a small stool to sit on and she found herself a bit of space to sit down - directly opposite me. Even though she was wearing a long skirt, it was one of those that had a split up the middle at the front and this, combined with my 18 year-old libido, was to prove my downfall as it allowed me a perfect view of her knickers.

There I was, thinking quite happily to myself: "They're white, they're lacy and I can just about see a little bit of bush behind them" when I realised the study had gone quiet and everyone seemed to be looking at me, including the object of my affections. The Professor had just asked me a question about the European Union or some such shit, and was expecting a smart-arsed answer. I had to confess that I had no idea what he was talking about.

I never got that offer and I didn't go to Oxford, all for a brief glimpse of gusset.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Mon 4 Mar 2013, 16:12, 10 replies)

It all went wrong QUIZ
It all went wrong for who or what when...

Bernard Butler left
John Nathan-Turner took over as producer
they let Joel Schumacher direct
he went electric
they changed the name to Snickers
Jonathan Ross took over as host
they cast Pierce Brosnan
Phil Collins took over as lead singer
he let his Californian wife join the band
he called that woman a bigot
they answered that distress call (several possible answers)
Robin Bailey replaced Arthur Lowe in the title role
Stephen Greif wasn't available so they cast Brian Croucher
Briana Corrigan left
a bloke fucked a monkey
all their specially tuned guitars and shit was nicked
they decided to rebrand it and reduce the alcohol content to 4.8% in order to 'offer the customer clarity'
they privatised it (many possible answers)
he didn't get a second series
they decided to make a fourth movie almost 20 years after the previous one
they made Paddy McGuire a sympathetic character after two series of him being a terrifying psychopath
Terry Bickers left the band (he's since rejoined, hurrah!)
Fred Freiberger took over as director (two answers)

That'll do for now though I can probably think of loads more... as can you.

Answers on a postcard please.

[Awaiting inevitable November 1991 jibes. Oh you cards!]
(Dr Skagra glorious glargzhem, Sat 2 Mar 2013, 21:06, 64 replies)

It was long ago.
I had just gotten my first property and was very excited about it. I fixed the place up nicely- lots of light, running water, the whole lot. I especially took care in the garden and planted it with all kinds of wonderful things that I enjoy, and was well pleased with the result. I used to wander around back there for hours, delighting in the soft ground underfoot, the cool shade and gentle breezes.

Eventually the day came when I had a son, followed by a daughter. They played happily out in the garden, and most days I joined them there. The only thing was, in my enthusiasm for planting I had included a plant that was mildly poisonous, so I told them to stay away from it. The fruit has psychotropic properties that wouldn't be good for them, and I feared that they might eat some and never quite recover.

So what happened? Of course when my back was turned one of their friends dared them to take a bite from it. Just as I feared, they had a mind-wrenching experience which has affected them ever since.

I was furious. I kicked them out and told them never to return now that they had addled their minds permanently, telling them that they were on their own. They cried and pleaded, but I was firm- they broke my rules in my house, so out they went.

They've now had children, of course, but I still won't let any of them back into my garden. Well, not until they've all learned their lesson, anyway. I'll listen to them one by one and decide.

And their friend who dared them? I cut off his arms and legs and sent him off crawling on his belly in the dust. Evil little serpent...
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Wed 6 Mar 2013, 4:24, 6 replies)

I am reposting this for anyone considering visiting Dubai
I am fully aware that many people holiday or choose to work in Dubai, the vast majority without any problems

however it also goes seriously tits up for many many people

Dubai is a third world country of medieval attitudes lurking behind a thin veneer of ill considered towers built by what is effectively slave labour

There are so many contradictions, hypocrisies and downright lunacy about the place it's fair to say you are never safe in Dubai. I wonder how many of the people who holiday there know that if you stay in a hotel as a couple but are unmarried you can be jailed for 6 months? Although this is rare, the point is they can do this at a whim, when it does happen there is NOTHING the British Consulate can or will do. Similarly whether you are a practicing Muslim or not, if you are of Muslim parents and if you're caught drinking - 6 months.

Basically you are only tolerated there for the money you bring and if there is any issue between you, a local, the police or the authorities - you are automatically in the wrong, you are in deep shit and have little or no rights and no chance of exercising them. Your only chance is a massive bribe - corruption is the national pastime.

Perspective - just a couple of weeks ago this happened...

www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-middle-east-21529654

i see stories like that every couple of months.

here's what happened to us...

b3ta.com/questions/theboss/post460435

my advice to anyone would be to avoid Dubai at all costs, aside from anything else it's fucking dull
( spimf ™ is whoever you want him to be, Tue 5 Mar 2013, 10:45, 10 replies)

Not really about where life went wrong, but a tale of epic disaster anyway
Many years ago, I used to do a lot of video stuff. And, inevitably, over a pint or several, a friend announced that he wanted to make a film.

For some weeks he brought me script ideas, and we played around with it until we had something that seemed to work. I was still dubious, however, until he introduced me to the two girls he had in mind to star in it, along with himself of course. Now steady on at the back there, it wasn't that kind of film - no nudity was planned. It is, remarkably, possible to make a video starring two girls that doesn't involve any kind of sex. I know, weird, huh?

Anyway, I went around to meet these girls, and was immediately impressed: they had a real chemistry together, they were funny, creative, enthusiastic, and the camera loved them. I started to think that we might just be able to make something here.

So, a few weeks later, we set up the shoot. We had access to an empty flat for the weekend, so I planned a two-day shoot, setting up in the morning and filming in the afternoons. We had about ten people involved, and remarkably, they all turned up.

That was the last thing that went well. It became immediately apparent that something was wrong with the two girls. There was no chemistry; in fact they barely looked at one another. It turned out that they'd had a blazing row the night before, and were not on speaking terms. One of them was consoling herself by taking large gulps from a bottle of vodka, the other was simply glaring at her and delivering her lines in a sort of clenched-toothed snarl.

After giving up on the girls' scene, I decided to focus on another bit for a while. A guy had a very small part (fnarr): all he had to do was to take a pull on a large comedy spliff and deliver a single line. In the interests of veracity, he insisted on using a real spliff. This turned out to be more methodone than method, as he could not seem to deliver the line correctly, and by the time we got to about take 38, he was incapable of speaking at all. I eventually left him slumped in the corner mumbling incoherently to a rubber plant.

I decided to see if the girls were doing any better. I discovered that one of them was about to be date-raped by one of the other cast members, who was taking maximum possible advantage of the rapidly reducing level in her vodka bottle.

At this point I gave up, and told everyone to come back the next day. I hoped that things might be better in the morning. Fat chance. The only thing I remember about the next day is that one of the main characters had decided to have his long hair cut short on Saturday night, so looked completely different. The rest of the day is a complete blur.

It was my last attempt to make a film. I've never even watched the pitiful amount of footage we did manage to capture. I gave up video work shortly after.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Mon 4 Mar 2013, 16:17, 3 replies)

November 1991
I clipped Dr Skagra. He was young and painfully stupid.

The moaning suicidal cunt hasn't shut up about it ever since. I text him every now and then pretending there's a new Fall album coming out, and he shuts up for a bit - but never for long. Why won't he just kill himself?

FFS
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Fri 1 Mar 2013, 16:07, 8 replies)

One of Ken Dodd's acolytes
became convinced that if he could somehow contrive to contract lycanthropy he would no longer be so short. It was an unmitigated disaster, and he simply ended up hairy and enraged. The newspaper reports on the matter declared: Were-Diddy Tall Go Wrong
( 4Q just lurking, Thu 28 Feb 2013, 20:13, 7 replies)

In which grandmasterfluffles' imagination runs away with her
When I was in Year 6, all of the pretty, popular girls at school kept diaries. Generally these were pink fluffy notebooks with padlocks attached, in which these mini Stepford wives in training would write with pink pencils with balls of fluff on the end in painfully neat handwriting.

I was not one of the pretty, popular girls. But boy, did I want to be! It was obvious that the only thing standing between me and popularity was owning one of these stupid things, and so I saved up my pocket money, went to WH Smith and purchased a pink hardback notebook with cute bunnies on the front and a padlock on the side, bearing the words My Secret Diary. I even splashed out on a fluffy pink pencil to go with it. I was all set.

When I started writing, however, I came across a snag. I was totally fucking boring. You see, because I still wasn't popular yet, I didn't have any friends. I didn't go to Take That concerts, or hold hands with boys, or have a whale of a time bullying losers, or any of the fun things the popular girls did. My life was DULL. And so one day, I found myself writing the words: I am so afraid that somebody will find out my terrible secret.

Ooooooh, now I was interesting! The only problem was, it was a total lie. I didn't actually have a terrible secret because I was too sodding dull for such things. But now that I'd written that I had a terrible secret, I was going to have to invent one. And this, dear readers, is where it all began to go horribly wrong.

Mr Thomas touched me when we were alone in the cloakroom, I began. He followed me in there and put his hand down my top. Oh yes, boy was I interesting now! All those girls who said I was so ugly - were any of them hot enough to get molested by the PE teacher? Ha! I think not. The problem was that now I was hooked on the drama of my imaginary trauma. I was compelled to write more and more salacious things every day.

I am so confused. You're supposed to do what teachers tell you, aren't you? I just want to be a good girl, but I wish Mr Thomas would stop telling me to suck his penis, even if he does give me 3 house points for it. Yes, that was a good one! House points for a blow job. People wouldn't think I was such a fucking boring bazillion house points goody two shoes when they found out HOW I EARNED THEM.

Today, Mr Thomas kept me behind after class. He made me get into the stationery cupboard with him and he took all my clothes off and we had sex. I feel so dirty.

On the plus side, I know for certain that my mum never ever breached my privacy by reading my diary, evidenced by the fact that Mr Thomas was never arrested. God, I was a horrible child.
(grandmasterfluffles Come to my Armageddon party on, Wed 6 Mar 2013, 18:22, 12 replies)

What happened to society? Ask Douglas Adams.
"This planet has- or rather had- a problem, which was this: most of the people living on it were unhappy for pretty much of the time. Many solutions were suggested for this problem, but most of these were largely concerned with the movement of of small green pieces of paper, which is odd because on the whole it was not the small green pieces of paper that were unhappy.
And so the problem remained; lots of people were mean, and most of them were miserable, even the ones with digital watches.
Many were increasingly of the opinion that they'd all made a big mistake in coming down from the trees in the first place. And some said that even the trees had been a bad move, and no one should have ever left the oceans."

There you go folks, you can trust Douglas because he worked out how the universe worked.

"There is a theory that states that if ever anyone discovers exactly what the universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable.

There is another theory which states that this has already happened."

Any excuse to open my well thumbed copy of the Hitch Hikers guide is a good one in my view. Were Mr Adams still with us, I am sure that he would approve of his sentiment being used in such a way. Sorry if others have already posted this, I have read through the thread and not seen it, but you know how it goes.
( Rev. Jayneflakes Buy my book, I need the cash for drugs and hookers, Wed 6 Mar 2013, 14:35, 19 replies)

It was in 1996
when Larry LaPrise, who wrote "The Hokey Pokey", died at the age of 84. To hear tell of it, the family was coping reasonably well up to the point of putting the body into the casket.

They put the left leg in... and then the trouble started.
( Wanderer, Mon 4 Mar 2013, 11:51, 8 replies)

Finding out
about the second law of thermodynamics. On the plus side it made tidying up seem like a waste of time.
(unclestinky, Sat 2 Mar 2013, 11:20, 1 reply)

Well this is going to be a dour fucking week
I can't wait to read the 'popular' page from top to bottom next Thursday, warm cup of tea in hand, to find out who's had the most miserable life so far
(TheManWithThePlan cussed your mum on, Fri 1 Mar 2013, 10:53, 4 replies)

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( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Fri 1 Mar 2013, 8:04, 10 replies)

Before I stumbled onto b3ta.com I could actually work for more than 13 minutes at a time.
I really don't mind cleaning out my desk, though.
( BrokenCoccyx doesn't mind if you grope on, Thu 28 Feb 2013, 23:06, Reply)

I'm flying out to a remote part of the Far East to do some aid work next month
Along with all the usual vaccinations and malaria tablets etc we've been told we'll need to pack some extra strong insect repellent, as the forests where we're going are home to a particularly nasty little insect whose bite causes temporary paralysis of the face.



We have to wear DDT or I'll go mong.
(localboy purveyor of pisspoor puns, Thu 7 Mar 2013, 9:35, 1 reply)

"Seriously, mate - she's shit-brick psycho."
"Yeah, but ... she's really fit."
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Wed 6 Mar 2013, 11:52, 4 replies)

It all started to go wrong
at the bit in the film when one group of monkeys sees a big black rectangle thing and develops tool skills and eats meat and uses a tapir bone to kill another monkey and goes into space and outsmarts a computer and a bit I didn't understand. the end.

roysin aged 41 1/2
(roysin, Tue 5 Mar 2013, 19:19, 4 replies)

Ppbw nclra ecltabw gvyyudtani eclta nln zjbwnyybwlc eclnyypptani szln szudbwoylyyzj rappvizjbwppqd ntac zjnbwppta qyynzj.
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( The Mock TurtIe ™ --- Thinks you are a cunt, on, Mon 4 Mar 2013, 21:16, 17 replies)

First cigarette at 13, first taste of alcohol not long after
I didn't wake up back then and think "Something seriously lacking in my life, must be cigs and booze." No.

Peer pressure and relentless, brilliant advertising were the main factors.

The downhill slope of addiction is pretty mild. And pretty boring. Like a really shit go-cart on a very gentle slope.

Cold turkey, on the other hand, wow.
(roysin, Mon 4 Mar 2013, 13:53, 19 replies)

It was
just after that time when our ancestors took a different evolutionary path from the last common ancestor we shared with chimpanzees.

or last Thursday if you live in East Anglia.
( Infidel , shit and wrong, Sun 3 Mar 2013, 1:25, 4 replies)

prrooprrooprroop!

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( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Fri 1 Mar 2013, 18:55, 14 replies)

Back then it all seemed so bleak
The misery, the mania and the hopelessness was really piling up. I never thought I would make it past thirty, it was all so self indulgent.

Then in 2003 I went into therapy, life went down hill from there. The mania faded, the misery passed and a new feeling of hope was born.

My admitting to being a cheerful Gothic type was my downfall, I got a suntan, I stopped listening to the Cure and Siouxsie every day and I even stopped wanting to sleep in a coffin.

If I were not so happy, I would kill myself!
( Rev. Jayneflakes Buy my book, I need the cash for drugs and hookers, Fri 1 Mar 2013, 16:41, 4 replies)

My laptop
I Bought a lovely laptop. It was amazing, did everything I wanted. One day it stopped working so I took it to pcworld to get it fixed.

The rest is history

Paul Gadd
(Pill Popper Thank you Sasha Shulgin, Fri 1 Mar 2013, 16:26, 4 replies)

opening the door
to an old friend, who begged me to let her in as her recently-dumped boyfriend was threatening to beat her up.
i really should have known better.
i took her in, fed her, clothed her and gave her a shoulder to cry on. i offered to go to the police with her to see about pressing charges against her ex, but she said she'd rather just let it go. it wasn't long before i found out why.
word quickly got back to me that he'd been the dumper, not her. he'd caught her maxing out his credit cards and, when he confronted her, she'd thrown a massive wobbly and trashed his house. realising what a nutbar she was, he kicked her out. she'd gone to the police and reported him for assault, of which she had not a shred of evidence. seems she was well-known to the police for making accusations against boyfriends, so how she wasn't arrested for wasting police time, i don't know.
now, being an old school friend, i didn't want to believe she was capable of such utter nasty fuckwittery, so i grudgingly gave her the benefit of the doubt.
i finally saw the light when she got pissed and tried to talk me into setting fire to his house, just to get back at him. yes, she was willing to torch his home, with him possibly still inside, just for petty revenge. i asked her to leave my house immediately and gave the police a call. last i heard, she was under psychiatric evaluation for bipolar disorder or somesuch. just as long as she keeps well the fuck away from me.
bitch be crazy.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Fri 1 Mar 2013, 15:44, Reply)

Apparently the plans were down a corridor, in a toilet with a 'beware of the leopard' poster on the door.
no one told me.
(magictorch, Fri 1 Mar 2013, 14:13, 4 replies)

When I was younger I worked as an apprentice for a bit.
The guy I was working under never really gave me any respect. One day I was especially angry and lost it with him, and Star Wars
( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Thu 28 Feb 2013, 12:01, 19 replies)

I gave up
Recreational drug use.
Smoking.
Drinking.

Now I'm bored.
I've put on weight.
All that money I've saved. I have to spend on new clothes.
(Pill Popper Thank you Sasha Shulgin, Thu 28 Feb 2013, 11:54, 2 replies)