Frankspencer.
Shut it you boring Yank.

Have a Nice day y'all

:)
(hoogie Original Cunt Horse Author, Thu 7 Sep 2006, 12:36, Reply)

Frankspencer
I'm not a yank, or a home-living virgin, or on my high horse. But it's interesting that all you have to do in the UK to earn the scathing abuse of others is NOT spend your weekends slavishly following the infantile fashion of getting wasted because you lack the intelligence and individuality to do anything else. Maybe I should start practising my pitch for Monday morning:

"Ohh, I drank 14 WKD blues on Saturday and threw them all up behind the pub. Then I got into a fight with a guy who looked at me funny and ended up shagging a really ugly bird who turned out to be underage blah blah blah blah ..."

Oh, right - now I'm on my high horse. Carry on ...
(frankspencer, Thu 7 Sep 2006, 12:12, Reply)

Careful who you bar.....
I was out in a town that shall be nameless as I was staying overnight because I had been invited to be on the grading panel at a martial arts club in the aforementioned town the next day.
Having been separated from my compatriots I tried to look in a noisy pub doorway to see if they were in, only to be told by a shaven headed little snot to"F$ck off grandad". I politely asked him if I could go in and see if my friends were in there only to be told "If you try and go in there pal I'll cripple ya!". Perhaps my knowing smirk may have aggravated the truncated cnut, or the fact that I was a foot taller than him and a foot wider.
He then proceeded to get the manager and take a picture of me to show the staff that I was barred! I found my friends in a bar down the road and a good night was had by all.
It came to pass that, the very next day,I was getting changed into my Gi and Hakama in the "instructors only" changing rooms set up for the occasion when I was asked to give a half-hour Aikido demonstration to the class as a warmup before the gradings proper.
I went onto the mat, was welcomed by the club's chief instructor and introduced to the members on the mat. Who should be there, wearing a YELLOW belt no less. Yep it was the stumpy, bad-tempered cnut from the night before. Chose him as my uke for the whole demonstration.
Yea, verily I did smite him. Give him his due, he didnt scream too badly when I cranked on some very painful wristlocks and his ukemi skills got a real workout for the full half-hour. He was congratulated by his fellow members for being picked as uke by the visiting instructor but his pointy ratlike face was a picture when I called him onto the mat.
I still failed him on his grading for "bad attitude".
Does that make me shallow?
(Captain Placid 24/7 ball gags, brownie mix and clown porn, Thu 7 Sep 2006, 10:24, Reply)

Frank Spencer
I bet you're a yank you cunt.
(Set your faces to Stunned Bigly, Thu 7 Sep 2006, 10:13, Reply)

Pizza the action
I got barred from my mate's ex-girlfriend's house. What was my crime: abusing the pets? no friggin her granny? no....

... I "stabbed" her younger brother's frozen pizza with the box it came out of. The numpty had a hissy fit and wouldn't eat it and as a result I got banned.

She was a right bunnny boiler anyway, so no loss there... poor mate spent another 5 years with her before he realised this and then she went off and married his best mate from school!
(MonkeyFunker, Thu 7 Sep 2006, 10:12, Reply)

I was barred...
...from a pub I used to work at as a glass collector when I was in 6th form in my hometown. It was a newly-trendified place in the middle of town - loads of cash spent by the brewery, video walls etc.

The manager was a mid-40's, overbearing, witless pillock with a barely-legal girlfriend who quite obviously couldn't stand the sight of him and was only with him for the money. I discovered during my tenure that she had fucked at least two of the weekend doormen whilst living in the pub with the manager. Naturally these facts generated no respect for the girl on my part whatsoever.

One night he decided to fire me out-of-the-blue for 'not keeping the other glass collectors busy'. Y'see, he'd recently made me Head Glass Collector - a title which I had rejected because a) I wasn't being paid any more for it and b) leadership held absolutely no interest for me, and still doesn't. So, being fired, I shared my views on his overbearing witless pillocky-ness and some home truths about his goldigging little slut of a girlfriend. So he barred me too (an empty gesture, since I've never been there on a recreational basis before or since - going out in my hometown makes up in danger what it lacks in entertainment value).

I understand that shortly after, rather than weed out those who were willing and obviously capable of showing his squeeze a better time than he could, he fired ALL of the weekend door staff. As a result, no-one capable of watching the door was willing to work for him for weeks, and the place got damn-near torn apart as a result. He was replaced as manager a couple of months later. I've no idea what happened to the girlfriend - probably got about three meathead rugrats and a council house by now.

The day he fired me, I went across to the pub across the road to see if they had any room for a non-head glass collector and it seems they'd seen me at work in the other place and hired me on the spot on the strength of it. Ayyyy :)
(thatblokeoverthere not quite as much an arsehole as I thought, Thu 7 Sep 2006, 9:11, Reply)

ods
odfgijdsf
(Jimmy Splash, Thu 7 Sep 2006, 7:44, Reply)

Unfortunately
Myself and Maladicta are now banned from La Senza in Bluewater after the modelling of one too many lacy french knickers caused me to lose control.

This would also have been apt for the QOTW two weeks ago, thinking about it.
(jamesthegill opens new tabs with his scroll wheel, Wed 6 Sep 2006, 23:51, Reply)

bouncers are crazy!!!
Was in the lovely city of Melbourne, when my brother and i visited a pub on a saturday night. Walking up to the front door, my brother caught his foot on one of the small steps that lead up to this establishment, and the bouncer told us we weren't allowed in because of his level of intoxication. In the bouncers moment of power over my brother, he failed to see me swaying and smiling in a very drunken manner. My brother on the other hand, was quite stable, but lacked depth perception/ Not being able to talk our way in, me being too drunk, my brother now in no mood, we went to a pub, got straight in and got more inappropriately drunk
(Tinbum is having a merry old time, Wed 6 Sep 2006, 23:21, Reply)

Not exactly barred
but I was reprimanded in Ottakar's on an outing to Ashford because my friend (who is quite loud) was reading a book on sex dares and counting them off with "Done that one. Done that one" right by the till, where there were small children whose fragile little minds could be being warped. "Can you turn down the volume if you're going to carry on that conversation, dear?". Friend has to be dragged from store by me, because I'm mortified.
( Maladicta, Wed 6 Sep 2006, 22:53, Reply)

My father

was banned from Marks & Spencer. I knew there was going to be trouble when I heard his shouts of "Where's the goddam toilet roll" coming from one of the changing rooms.
(Lt Columbo, Wed 6 Sep 2006, 21:40, Reply)

Nearly....but not quite
I was out in Po Na Na's (one of a chain of clubs, supposed to have some Arabic-opium-den schtick but instead looks very like the Dirkadirkastan bar in Team America) with some mates on the wednesday rock night. Which is not actually very good, mostly 'hardcore' emo crap playing but £1 beers, so not all bad. We were in the 'chill-out' bit (uncomfortable settees, stupid 'ethnic' lamps, Postal Service playing), and my mate (a tiny girlie) went up to the dj to request some music, as you do. As I mentioned before this club is rather emo-heavy and unlikely to play her rather jolly choice, but nontheless she tried anyway. the conversation went something like this:
My mate: "Hi, do you have anything by The Eels?"
Emo DJ: "yeah, ive got that beautiful day song"
My mate: "ah cool, will you play it for me?"
Emo: "Errr...nah, maybe not..."
Mate: "Ah, you wanker" (said in jolly, jokey manner)
Emo: "What?? I know so much more about music than you do, I've been a DJ for a whole 6 months (wow, mummy must be proud), I'm not an emo, my mates are older than your mates, boo hoo etc..."
My mate thinks this is stupid and just ignores him... however her boyfriend isnt too pleased with his good lady being talked to in such a way, and goes to have a 'friendly chat' (actually not violent) with this emo tosser, then sits down again, satisfied he's made his point...whereupon one of the bouncers comes over and threatens both of them with being thrown out and barred... 'oh noooo, please don't ban us from your shitty expensive club', etc... we left without a fuss in the end.
Heh, the club has now closed down...probably because they stopped doing the £1 WKD blue, and any other drink from there would financially cripple you.... D'oh.
BTW if some of you really acted the way you claim to when drunk/stoned/similar shite excuse for twattery, I wouldnt be surprised you manage to get yourself barred from everywhere... I'm sure it was really fucking funny at the time when you were pissing on the pool table/grabbing random womens tits/punching the bar staff, but it just makes you look like a total asswipe, trust me.
(Ryuken-Kai, Wed 6 Sep 2006, 21:22, Reply)

A pub in town
called the Royal George. My friend's boyfriend works there (horrible thing he is) and has a vendetta against another of my friends. So one day we took her there, he kicked us out and told her not to come back. He also barred her parents.
Fortnight later, we were back without said friend, he took one look at me (nobody else) and told me to get out. He then brought up my age as an excuse to be mean (granted, I am 17, but I was drinking coke on that occasion), my boyfriend convinced him to let me stay till the end of the night, he agreed. We stepped outside for about a minute, went back in, and he informed me that my ban was in place. For drinking coke.
We plan on keying his car.

Edit: Oh, it turns out he actually has no authority to ban. My friend's mum rang up asking about the fact that they're banned, the landlady basically said, "Ignore anything he says." Bloody small men.
( Kittenpants, Wed 6 Sep 2006, 19:48, Reply)

I've been barred from getting a taxi from the rank at Birmingham International train station
but it wasn't my fault.

The bus to work didn't turn up, so I had to get a taxi. When we arrived the fare was £6.70 so I whipped out a twenty. He looked at me like I was mental.

"I can't change that." he glowered.
"Eh?"
"I haven't got change of a twenty."

Bear in mind that this was about 8 o'clock in the morning, so I was more than a little confused by this. A taxi driver that doesn't have 13 quid on him. Made more confusing as he was working from the station so most useful journeys (into Brum for the tourist/daft businessperson) from there would have been more than £20, so he'd have been fucked anyway as he obviously didn't have any more than £13.30 on him.

"I haven't got anything smaller. I've just been to the bank." I told him.
He scowled "Well, I can't change it."
"There isn't really anything else I can do. I would have thought you would have had change."
He then informed me that he was "not a bank, mate".
Still feeling a bit confused I asked him what he suggested I do. I was expecting to ask if I had a credit card, or if he could have my name and address or something. I have no idea what to do in such a situation. I was therefore taken aback when he informed me of his ingenious solution to our dilemma.

"I suggest you don't pay, get out and never get in my taxi again."
"Pardon?"
"Get out. I'll make sure I spread the word around the rank. Don't expect to get a taxi from there again."
"But... I've got the money. It's in my hand."
Silence.

So I'm barred from using the taxi rank but I saved the bus fare.

On the off chance that that taxi driver is reading this, I carry £6.70 with me every day when I walk past the rank (mainly to make me feel smug), so you can have the money if you want it.
( Bingowings 2011 Businessman of the Year (Watford Branch), Wed 6 Sep 2006, 19:35, Reply)

While on a canal holiday
Stopped off and went for a wonder. Got lost.

Came to this pub and thought I'd ask for directions. As soon as I walked to the bar the barman said "What can I get you?"
I thought, this is very welcoming and said "I'll have a pint of lager please."
"£2" the barman requested.
"I thought you were buying me a drink." said I, "I was only going to ask for directions, I've got no money with me."
"Well since I've poured it, you can have this one and after that I never want to see you in here again." Said the rather angry barman.

Two days later I wondered off and found the same pub. I entered and the barman said "You're not allowed in here anymore."
"I've never been here before mate," I lied.
"You must have a double then." said the barman.
I replied, "Oh in that case, I'll have a double whiskey."
(losinx, Wed 6 Sep 2006, 18:42, Reply)

Owner Abuse
Bin barred from many places (mostly for being cheeky or just too plain short an ugly to get in [except for King's Heath/Erdington when I was refused entry for being too beautiful]) however I will recount this incident

Started the night in Σ|1 drinking expensive pretentious imported lager (Leffe) which normally comes served as half pints as it is fairly strong (think posh Special Brew). Me and my macho mate laugh this off (having the arrogance that comes only of spending a lot of money on a small amount of powder) , so after a several pints we decide to hit the clubs.

Having drunk away any taste or motivation we headed for the nearest flange pit - a place called "the living room" where older men in stripey shirts prey on pretty avaricous young things (or so they think until they clock the mutton). We pass the bouncers with a few well placed nods and smiles, and are just stepping in when an ugly and unkempt character who was loitering by the door says "Hey, you can't let them in looking like that". Mortified as I pride myself on sharp dressing ;o) and very slightly lairy I turn round and say something like "What, you judge my clothes whilst you stand there in your plastic shoes and scruffy shirt like the fashion policetranny at Moneypennies* - who the fck are you anyway?"

Answer: "I'm the owner."

Unfortunately a graceful exit was not the case as I then stood on the footpath abusing him, his fashion sense and his club for a further 10 minutes (no exaggeration - i had no concept of time or boredom) whilst the bouncers tried not to laugh, and he tried to get the bouncers to get rid of me, however it was all on camera so they couldn't really do anything. Eventually my mate dragged me away. We went on to have a fun filled evening of getting barred from another club, not gettin in to a slightly dubious party, car racing, spinning and crashing, getting my phone nicked whilst sleeping on the bus home in the morning (well afternoon) and many more pissadventures.

Yes I was a twat. I have learned my lesson now though (almost).


* Trivia Fact: Nightclub "Moneypennies" in Birmingham UK started the trend for straightish nightclubs having a transvestite at the door to weed out people who are not glamorous enough. Honest


No apologies for length as am well within the 50k guideline!
(jmaxi returned again on, Wed 6 Sep 2006, 16:43, Reply)

Hull Pukey Dancefloor
Went to one of the more salubrious nightclubs that Hull had to offer about 10 years ago (the Quayside or something). Six floors of varying levels of insobriety. Me and mates went off to the top floor where they were playing cheesey 70s music. After about an hour I'd drank lots of this 6% german bottled beer (£1 a bottle if you please) and had thrown up in the toilets. Went back to the dancefloor and saw a dark corner where I proceeded to throw up a further 4-5 more times in quick succession. The long arm of the bouncers was soon upon me and I was hauled down 6 flights of stairs and out onto into the night. My mates had seen my exit and one of them followed and within a couple of minutes he somehow managed to talk the same bouncer who'd watch me chuck all over his dancefloor into letting me back in. That's Hull bouncing.
( Fray Brentos *mega-belms*, Wed 6 Sep 2006, 16:15, Reply)

Empire Redhill
Not me but a mate who I was practically carrying up the stairs trying to get in.
"You can come in but not your mate, he's too drunk" spaketh the bouncer. I had let go of said mate so he could pretend that he could stand up straight on his own. "He's not drunk" I protested "Look at him..." I said in an almost pleading voice. It was at this point he fell back down the stairs and puked on himself. I was allowed inside whilst my mate ran wild in the streets screaming at moving cars*


*it later transpired that he passed out in some bushes whilst I rounded up the rest of the troops inside Embassy but not before leaving me a phone message saying that he was outside “The A-bol” and he needed help.
(Phelpsy Bollocks trapped behind radiator since, Wed 6 Sep 2006, 15:51, Reply)