I'm about as common as they come, in Londoner form.
But the rest of my family aren't. They all have near queens English accents, I don't, I have a mockney accent. (Mockney because you aren't cockney unless born within the sounds of bow bell.. apparently.)
( Jenk Neptune is a pedant and now I can't fit my sig in, Mon 20 Oct 2008, 15:51, 1 reply)

It's all about the ratios
Just hanging around the local offie with your mates isn't properly common until you have acheived the magic ratio of 5:2:1 of lads : mountain bikes : dogs (of the four-legged variety). And any "birds" in attendace have to have "Stretford Facelift" style hair...
(ScousersPet, Mon 20 Oct 2008, 15:47, Reply)

Common Sense.
There is no such thing as common sense. When someone tells you to use your common sense, what they are actually saying is "do it *my* way".
(EffinDoubt is breaking glass on, Mon 20 Oct 2008, 15:42, 3 replies)

Common? You don’t know the half of it!
I don’t talk about this much - but there were a couple of occasions in the early 90’s when I very nearly had to resort to…...

Public Transportation!

I call that period of my life ‘The Dark Times’, and no doubt the story of my suffering and sacrifice will serve throughout my frail dotage as a reminder to keep the feet of my grandchildren firmly on the ground.


(Mr Twisty Cheeky The worst kept secret in B3ta..., Mon 20 Oct 2008, 15:23, Reply)

Um...
...Getting so mind blowingly drunk on a Saturday night that you don't realise that you've been wandering around all night with you flies open until you look at the pictures on your camera on Monday lunchtime.

I am sorry if anyone saw my cock.
( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Mon 20 Oct 2008, 15:22, 1 reply)

eau de chav...

( spimf ™ is whoever you want him to be, Mon 20 Oct 2008, 14:38, 9 replies)

not common
The Inclosure Acts were a series of United Kingdom Acts of Parliament which enclosed open fields and common land in the country. This meant that the rights that people once held to graze animals on these areas were denied. Note that although the modern spelling of the word is normally "enclosure", the Acts, other formal documents and some place names use the old spelling "inclosure". Both spellings are normally pronounced /ɪnˈcloʊʒɚ/.

Inclosure Acts for small areas had been passed sporadically since the 12th century but the vast majority of them were passed between 1750 and 1860. Much larger areas were also enclosed during this time and in 1801 the Inclosure (Consolidation) Act was passed to tidy up previous acts. In 1845 another General Inclosure Act allowed for the appointment of Inclosure Commissioners who could enclose land without submitting a request to Parliament.

Under this process there were over 5,000 individual Inclosure Acts and 21% of land in England was enclosed, amounting to nearly 7 million acres (28,000 km²).

apologies for piss boring gcse lesson
(magictorch, Mon 20 Oct 2008, 14:37, 1 reply)

Karaoke Pilot
On my first day of university some years ago in Middlesbrough (the center of the universe), I went to a local pub with my friends. A was in a good mood and smiled to the man stood next to me at the bar. He laughed a sort of James-Bond-villain-laugh and told me I was lucky to still be alive. He had a shaved head...

Went to a pub the other day and karaoke was on. We thought "great! karaoke[1]", then realised it was a 40th birthday party - a function room[2] full of people who looked happy, but with a hostile undertone. We stayed for a bit anyway. We decided no one would notice if we helped ourselves to the buffet[3] so we got stuck in. My girlfriend got up to sing karaoke, to my delight. We were sat watching her, laughing away gleefully, when all of a sudden a big fat woman stood right in my line of sight and starting doing what I can only describe as Sexy Dancing[4]. I turned to my friend, shocked, and we both burst into laughter. There was sort of a shared understanding that we were laughing at the fact that she'd not only blocked the view, but had blocked the view by Sexy Dancing in a floral dress. Anyway, she vaulted across the room and flying kicked me on the arm. I stopped laughing instantly and said "what did you do that for?" She said "you were laughing at me!" I panicked and said "No I wasn't!"
To my surprise she completely changed tone and said (100% genuinely) "oh, I'm sorry...oh I'm really sorry, that's awfully rude of me". I said "whatever" and turned back to my pint of Carling[5]. Then I thought 'wait a f**king minute!' - no, knowingly sitting in someone's seat would be rude, I don't think there's a classification for fat ladies in floral dresses flying kicking people.
So anyway, my girlfriend came back and I relayed the story. She said "who the f**k was it? Point to her!". I said "no, darling, that's common".

I did once drop my phone in a urinal then wash it and make a phonecall - that's pretty common.

valoukh.



[1] Karaoke is common.
[2] Function rooms are common.
[3] Surely it's common eating someone else's buffet?
[4] She even ran her fingers through her hair, like Britney Spears or something. Sexy Dancing is common, especially if you're not a dancer, and absolutely when you're massive.
[5] Cheap.
( valoukh newsgash.wordpress.com, Mon 20 Oct 2008, 14:10, 1 reply)

I did not have any school friends
My Father served in the British Army for thirteen years, until my Mother forced him to resign and move us all back to the UK. He served his last six months in a tiny village in Dorset and eventually he came out completely (of the army, not the closet) in 1988 and moved us to the Shit hole that is Plymouth in Devon. Plymouth is not a nice place to live, it is a fucking carbuncle, the arse grape of England. I did not enjoy living in Plymouth.

I was still of school age when we first moved there and having been to twelve schools already due to moving a lot, I thought I could make friends fairly quickly.

The first thing I noticed was that no one spoke English at this school. They all spoke Devon, which is quite hard to understand. The next thing I noticed was that they all stared at me like I was a freak. I had Long black hair because I was (and still am) a Heavy Metal fan and at that time had no tattoos or piercings.

Finally one of them spoke to me in something approximating English. He turned out to be the school Loony and yes for those of you who have seen Devon Loonies, he did have an in bred look to him.

I replied to this person of indeterminate ancestry and was promptly covered with his spittle as he guffawed at my alledgedly Posh Accent. For the next two years this human/chimp/Devon-person hybrid would taunt me with his mongy mouth and try to impersonate my speaking voice.

Eventually I entered the final year of the school, I had been accepted by some of the children, but I was still teased for my Posh accent by Chimp boy. I had managed to make two friends at this school. The first spoke to me because no one else would talk to him. He was the boy who had fouled himself during PE in his first year of Secondary school and no one had let him forget it. My second friend was a maniac from an area that I grew to Know as Swillie. He would drive to School each morning, for his last month in the school, in a stolen shit brown ford Cortina, until the Police finally caught him.

I left school and moved on to College and after a couple of years I managed to get enough points to enter University in Bath. Upon my arrival I made friends with a local Biker who was appalled at how common I appeared.

A few years later I attended speech therapy to help me turn my course male voice into a gentle female voice and it was here I found the route of my Allegedly posh accent.

Yes folks, I had inherited my Mother's Essex twang.

Thank you Plymouth, for showing me the depths that human beings can descend to and yet still be classified as human. To any B3tans living in Plymouth, I can only assume that you moved there for some reason or if you are actually from there, do yourself a favour. Get the hell out while you still can...

Plymouth, twinned with as Common as licking toilet bowls. Damn I hate that place.
( Rev. Jayneflakes Buy my book, I need the cash for drugs and hookers, Mon 20 Oct 2008, 14:08, 8 replies)

Only slightly tangental and highlights my lack...
...of more current knowledge concerning those of the female persuasion, but: What exactly is a muffin top and why is it called that?

EDIT AFTER READING REPLIES: Yikes, it's even worse than I thought. As a mate of mine once said, 'Just because it may be the fashion to show a little midriff, it doesn't necessarily mean that a given individual should, especially an individual that has been given more than their share at the Greggs counter'.
(thatblokeoverthere not quite as much an arsehole as I thought, Mon 20 Oct 2008, 14:04, 5 replies)

I was at a Renaissance Fair this weekend
and my daughter echoed an observation that I have been saying for years (though not in front of her):

The amount of coverage of a costume varies inversely with the amount of things that really should be covered up.

After a 17 stone girl waddled past in a miniskirt slung around the lower half of her massive hips and a minimal halter, her belly wobbling in all directions at once, followed by an equally attractive man in a kilt and a chain mail shirt, she turned to me with a look of abject woe and said, "You know, there are some things I really do NOT need to see."

I couldn't agree more.

But worse than that were the minimally garbed people stumbling with half a beer sloshing in their hand and a cigarette waving wildly in the other as they tried to navigate their way to the privies. And entering them with said beer and cigarette.

Pure class, that...
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Mon 20 Oct 2008, 13:36, 4 replies)

A damning assessment
Back when I was wee (10 years old to be precise) I started at the first of many schools for forces children I'd attend down the years. I remember that my Mum told me that I was not to think I was better than anybody just because my Dad was an officer and most of the other kid's Dads weren't. This being my first forces school I wasn't aware that this was even an issue but it's not one I would've even thought about if she hadn't mentioned it. So I spent a year dodging questions and generally being accepted. I guess my Glaswegian accent and relatively average performance in class (due to not really being taught over the last two years and having to play some serious catch-up) also helped.

Anyway. I remember my first encounter with snobbery happened at this school. A few months in I was sat in the sports hall having dinner and generally minding my own business when this girl came up and sat down beside me. I think she was in the year below me but the important thing to note is that I'd never seen her before this point and never would again:

'Hello' she said in a very polished and haughty sounding accent. before I could reply she began:

Haughty girl: 'Say "grahss".
Me: 'Grass'
HG: 'Now say "Caah".
Me: 'Car'.
HG: 'Say "bahth".
Me: 'Bath'.

And with this her assessment was complete and summed up almost instantly in two words (three if you count the contraction):

HG: 'You're common'.

And with that she stood up and flounced back to her table. I didn't say anything back as she walked off but to this day I'm glad I didn't think to shout back: 'Do you know who my Dad is?!'.

Length? Puberty was still a good three years off.
( Raindance Work is inversely proportional to post-count, Mon 20 Oct 2008, 13:36, 5 replies)

Smoking
I'm not saying smoking's common, it just that all common people smoke.
( Farmfoodsman, Mon 20 Oct 2008, 13:25, Reply)

Spitting on peoples cocks
I was standing at the urinal last week and the chap next to me turned to say something. As he did so a tiny globule of spit flew out of his mouth and landed on the end of my cock.

I thought this was bad manners.

Edit: Not the band.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Mon 20 Oct 2008, 13:22, 5 replies)

Everyone.
Every bloody social class is common.

You think just because you own a BMW and a pair of hunter's wellies you're not common? Guess what, so do thousands of other people who all share your generic template of a life.

The only difference is pikeys can fit into their commonality without alot of money.

Plus all of those stories about someone doing something very disguisting which has taken you and everyone near you aback; you've just ruined your own arguement because if you and everyone around you is disguisted about something it's not common! Just filthy.

Thank you everyone, I've been beautiful.
(Vikingheadache, Mon 20 Oct 2008, 13:21, 2 replies)

Working class girl does good
During the late 70's I worked in a well known bar in Sheffield, I wasn’t allowed to work behind the bar (thats where they put the uglier employees) and instead worked the floor taking orders and sometimes covering for the house singers when needed (We were one of those classy establishments that didn’t sell any beer on tap). One night after I had finished singing on the stage to cover for an act that failed to turn up I was approached by a really well to do bloke.

This guy turned out to be a manager of a couple of decent music acts that were well known to the British public, he had heard my voice and asked if I was interested in setting up a recording session where he would set up a demo tape to send to a couple of his mates in the industry. I was dead chuffed and spent days perfecting my choice of songs (I had always dreamt of being in music somehow but never really had the chance or cash to do something like this).

To cut a long story short the recording session went well and the offers came flooding in, I was well known in the uk after a good 12 - 24 months and after a lot of hard work (and a good year or two later) my name was also recognised by people in the US.

Unfortunately the fame seemed to go to my managers head. The other acts that he had managed had either split up or dropped him completely due to his snooty better than thou attitude (Word was that he- a Londoner brought up with a top rate private education- would like to bring in acts from the north as he believed that the "poor commoners" are easier to manipulate) He would berate me most nights about my background and pronunciation, also mentioning that I was nothing without him (to be honest I believed him).

What made matters even more complicated was that we were also seen as an item in the press (During my first few months of fame I would freeze up sometimes during interviews so he would sit with me when the cameras were on).

One night I couldn’t take it anymore and fired him, the snooty twat then said that he got me where I was and that he could put me back if he wanted (despite him constantly ringing me after a few days begging to get back with me). I wasn’t too pissed off at losing him and as for the going back to my old life of a common waitress, that didn’t scare me either as I had made a decent bit of cash already and I had also developed a decent bit of confidence too.

What pissed me off was when he (The ex-manager) knocked up a song about the whole situation and gave it to his next band. Every time I tune into VH1 and hear Phil Oakey start singing that song I could scream.
(mon bison powered by magnets, Mon 20 Oct 2008, 13:06, 4 replies)

Fun with urinals…

So you’re at work and have sneaked off to enjoy a crafty yet exquisite piss…when you glance downwards and notice that (due to your height / overzealous bladder force / inadequate urinal design), you have spent the last 30 seconds systematically spraying an unstoppable stream of wee wee all down the crotch of your suit trousers…

So you instinctively lean forward to ‘assess the damage’, and proceed to dip your tie into said urinal and then promptly piss all over it…

Then, the resultant (and equally instinctive) neck-jerk recoil leads to you slipping backwards and falling arse-over-tit onto the cold hard tiles below…whacking your foot on the fiendish slash-bin and flapping the (now piss soaked) tie all over your shirt…and face.

…& when you’re lying there, rolling about and swearing like the utter damp tramp you are, in the ever-growing effluent puddle containing the dripped contributions from the rigorous cock-shakes of over a thousand different colleagues…your boss walks in…and tells you that you have a meeting in five minutes…

Now...is that common?

...?

…cos…erm….it’s never happened to me…

Nosirreebob.


...



By the way…on a completely unrelated topic…Does anybody have a towel / hair dryer / new suit I could borrow?

fucksocks

( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Mon 20 Oct 2008, 12:59, 6 replies)

Poo-flakes post reminds me...
Many years ago I was standing at the down stream end of a pub urinal having a piss, when I'm ashamed to say, I had the urge to spit. This isn't something I do as a matter of course, but on this occasion I was feeling a bit clogged up.

My lack of spitting practice showed itself though and I ended up with a thick mucus strand hanging from my pursed lips. It just hung there refusing to break. Without any thought I gave up trying to expel the gob and sucked it back up like a long piece of spaghetti. A very long piece of spaghetti as it turned out. As the last if it entered my mouth I was aware of a piquant salty flavour that certainly wasn't there earlier.

I've sucked piss out of pub urinal. Now that's common.
( Ring Of Fire A petty, drooling belming butthurt retard., Mon 20 Oct 2008, 12:55, 2 replies)

Shift!!
It was my primarly school in Manchester back in the 80´s (wavy lines) and the school had just bought it´s first(stupidly massive)computer...on hearing a kerfuffle the teacher comes into the room only to find a disgrunteld me frantically pressing the keys.."what´s the matter" says she, to which I reply in my broad Mancunian accent "miss miss, im pressing the shift button but it won´t SHIFT!!!"..

Does that make me commonn??
(misshotlips, Mon 20 Oct 2008, 12:53, 1 reply)

Wotsits
When I was at school, I was told there was nothing more common than a ginger boy eating wotsits.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Mon 20 Oct 2008, 12:43, 2 replies)

Stretch limos...
...especially white ones - pink ones? even worse;

"sports" instead of "sport" - it's ok when talking about two or more specific sports but sport as an entity is sport not sports. BSkyB please take note, this is not america;

People who report a conversation as "he turned round to me and said..." So, he was facing away from you to begin with was he?

Incorrect use of the word "them" - e.g. "pass me them scissors" instead of pass me those scissors"

"off of" e.g. "get off of that chair" instead of get off that chair"
(How soon is now?, Mon 20 Oct 2008, 12:31, 7 replies)

What stuff do i think is common?
Daisies on a lea in Spring. Sea gulls in Cornwall. Rain in June. Flies round shit. Vauxhall Corsas. Tesco Express. Fag ends. Manchester United fans.

Anything there's lots of, really.
(tugger blah fucking blah, Mon 20 Oct 2008, 12:28, Reply)

Spitting into urinals...

Picture the scene*...You're in the gents ejoying a lovely lingering wee...and someone approaches and stands next to you....no problem with that…you exchange the obligatory ‘nods’…then they proceed to hock up a monumental wad of phlegm and / or nasal contents…and spit the resulting smoothie into the trough – mid-piss

Why? sweet Jeebus why does everybody feel the need to gob in a urinal whilst they’re having a slash?

…and it’s worst in pubs.

Answers on a postcard please…(or in the ‘reply’ section if it’s more convenient)

*Scene may be slightly more difficult to picture for laydees

( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Mon 20 Oct 2008, 12:23, 6 replies)

Me
I know that quite a few people have answered this QOTW by saying that they themselves are common, so forgive me for doing the same.

Every week I try to think of a story that would be good for the QOTW, only to find that I get halfway through and can't be arsed to finish. Either that, or I forget to post my answer (having written it offline).

In fact, the most common thing I do which is probably true for most people is to fail to finish all of the things that I sta
( SeasonTicketless is too often the statue, and rarely the pigeon., Mon 20 Oct 2008, 12:21, Reply)

I suppose I'm 'Common'.
I drink Carlsberg.
I belch and fart in public, without shame.
I smoke. Sometimes drugs.
I have been known to drive a rusty Transit van.
I wear tracksuit bottoms, because they're comfy.
I ride a motorcycle. A big loud one.
I say 'Fuck' a lot.
I have friends who have been in jail.
I have a cream three-piece suite.
I like Scouse House.
I shop at Netto. Why not? It's cheap and better quality than Tesco/Asda.
I love chicken vindaloo.

But then again, I also have qualifications, a decent job, I listen to classical music, I read, and I love French art-house film. Some of my friends are teachers and scientists.

Take that society, fuck you and your perceptions.

I enjoy my life, and I couldn't care less what anyone thinks of me.
(Half of Stephen Fry's right buttock pissed on your dog on, Mon 20 Oct 2008, 11:57, 4 replies)

Things that scream chav or common...
Ford vehicles. Especially white ones - transits, escort vans, RS Turbos, even the Cosworths.

Fat birds in short skirts. I will be the first to admit that there is something nice about a girl with curves and, in some cases in my past, I've dallied with girls of the plumper variety with much enjoyment. However, if your thighs rub together, please don't wear a miniskirt - you'll look like a hooker, not a member of the WAG elite.

Lidl or Netto own-brand food. By all means, buy your toilet roll, or floor cleaner there if money is tight, but how pikey are you if Tesco Value is beyond your budget.

Similarly - own-brand alcohol. I have never been in such need of alcohol that I have thought "I'll pass on the Fosters at 8 cans for £5 and head straight for the Tesco Value Lager...". Own-brand booze is the preserve of the tramp and DSS pikey.

Shagging in front of your mates. Look, we're all people of the world and I reckon most of us have done the deed in the fresh air at some point. It can be fun, but you try to make sure no-one's around. Slipping a length to Tiffany in the bus shelter might be fun, but don't do it whilst surrounded by five of your mates. You lose extra class if either you or she you accept a drink or smoke from your mates during the deed, or if one or both of you makes or answers a call on your mobile/texts.

I have to admit though, that during my young and single days, I had a most enjoyable time with a girl from Southend in Essex - I recommend returning her attentions heartily, if she offers them. She was a lovely girl, but it was rather a shock to hear here screan "gawaan, fack me!" in the throes of passion. Ahem.
(Chad, Mon 20 Oct 2008, 11:38, 3 replies)

More "scummy" than "common"
I once saw someone shoplift from Primark.

One item. It's not like they grabbed an entire rack and ran out (which I saw a couple of lads do in Next). I reckon it was probably worth about £6 and they picked it up and made a break for the door.

I was actually quite surprised that the security guard stopped her.
(ScousersPet, Mon 20 Oct 2008, 11:27, 3 replies)

Crisps.
Particularly those corn/maize things.
(man_d is being watched by experts on, Mon 20 Oct 2008, 11:19, 4 replies)

the woman opposite me on the tube this morning
took her ipod out of her bag. looked at it. SUCKED THE EARPIECES CLEAN. then put them into her ears and happily deafened the rest of us with her shit music for the rest of the journey.

it gets no more common than this.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Mon 20 Oct 2008, 11:10, 22 replies)

Didn't think I was that bad...........
Recent events and reading through these posts has changed my opinion:-

Explaining this QOTW to my other half we started bickering because she thought “lounge” was the posh word for front room, I couldn't remember and had to double check.

I cooked my parents a Sunday roast yesterday to say thanks for lending us some money, they bought round a bottle of Lambrusco as they know its our favourite.

My Lounge/Sitting room is magnolia and sports a Dado rail (Put up by myself).

I once owned a Nova ffs.

I also brought my fiancée's engagement ring from Elizabeth Duke.
/hangs head in shame.

Please don't click I like this or my self esteem will be shattered forever.
( Gooch Is neither here nor there, Mon 20 Oct 2008, 11:09, 6 replies)