Normally when I tell people that I hang out on an internet messageboard for delusional attention-seekers
that kills the conversation.
( WormuIus, Thu 12 May 2011, 16:07, 4 replies)

In 2008
I was going through the waiting process to get my green card, which meant I couldn't leave the US. So of course my dear old mum had to go and bloody die and thus I couldn't go home even on emergency travel papers.

A month to the day after she died, I got confirmation that my green card was approved and excitedly rushed to the pub (the same pub we'd had mums wake at in absentia) with the news.

One guy who'd stood up at mums service (I had one for her here as my mates knew her) and delivered a hilarious story turned around with 'oh, you can go back to Hull to see you're mom then'. Silence. Followed by 'oh fuck' as he turned around, picked up his coat and walked out the door.
(nolongernuts, Thu 12 May 2011, 15:59, 5 replies)

My "uncle"/"step-grandad" had lots of physical woes.
Which is how he came to be at the hospital with my mum. He'd had an op on his spine which left him with no feeling below his pelvis, so walked with a staccato fart perambulation. He also had lost most of his hearing, or perhaps more accurately never turned on his hearing aid.

And so it came to pass, in a hospital waiting room (never a place known for its lively conversation anyway) that he stopped all and sundry with (caps lock because he shouted it!);
"OF COURSE, IT'S ALL ON ACCOUNT OF MY PENIS!"

Conversation may have stopped, but all ears were now firmly entrenched in their conversation for the rest of the wait.
( Blind Meach Cautiously optimistic, Thu 12 May 2011, 15:53, Reply)

When standing outside a trendy pub with a new guy at work and his desperately cool friends who are in their shades, being desperately cool
When drunk and experiencing the residual effects of last night's curry, cocking your leg and farting and then looking for a high five will instead make him cringe, and all his cool friends look around and try to look like they're not associated with you.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 12 May 2011, 15:46, Reply)

Little lies
Meeting my auntie's new boyfriend for the first time.

At the end of the night, he gets his phone out to get a taxi home from the pub.

'I don't really like getting taxis. The drivers are normally Pakis.'
'My girlfriend's Asian, actually...'

(She's not really, I just wanted him to look like a right dickhead.)
(SnowyTheWereRabbit the Leporid from Hell, Thu 12 May 2011, 15:44, 21 replies)

Was
going to post this in last weeks question but it fits here much better. There's a copper in out local area who has a serious personality problem.

Anyway he was spotted locked outside of his house one day, the rain pouring over his long depressed coppers mug as he waited for his father to return home. A neighbor spotted him and took pity calling him into her house. As he sank into her kitchen table he just sat staring into the distance not even attempting to talk.

Feeling somewhat awkward Mrs. Clunes looked outside and spotted her washing on the line.

"Oh no my washing!" she cried, which stirred our hero, who looked up at her, square in the eye and said "Mrs. Clunes, I couldn't give a fuck about your washing".
( dazbrilliantwhites has been meaning to change this..., Thu 12 May 2011, 15:44, 1 reply)

Some years ago
Me, Alan and Rob (names changed etc) were in the pub talking the usual bollocks when I mentioned a program that my kids used to watch about a kid with a pocket watch and how he used to freeze time with, usually to get back at bullies and catch up on homework.

We then discussed what the better uses for such a device would be. Briefly skipping over mild sexual assault, free iPods and scumbag battery, we suggested some of the sillier ideas. Such as the idea of watching for people reaching for their beer then pausing time and moving it a couple of inches closer so they just end up knocking it over. Or writing rude words on peoples' foreheads. Alan suggested entering the houses of anti-social neighbours during the night (I assume acquiring a key earlier in the day), rearranging the furniture and writing spooky messages on the walls in red paint. General mischief really.

Then came the conversation stopper. Well not just a conversation, the entire evening. Rob then came out with:
"What about going into a secondary school, finding the boy's changing room and seeing how they're developing during puberty?"

Alan and I got up, labelled him as a paedophile and left him there on his own vowing never to speak to or see the pervert again.

About 6 months later, I heard from Rob's brother who said his wife had walked in on Rob wanking off his 14yo brother-in-law whilst watching porn. This earned him an instant divorce, 4 years at her Majesty's pleasure and a permanent entry onto the sex offender's register.

Oh how we laughed.
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Thu 12 May 2011, 15:41, 9 replies)

sob
When there's a group of people chatting, you often get a lull in conversation after a while, a natural silence. My friends and I used to have a little (some would say) controversial saying that we'd throw out in an attempt to generate discussion and laughs and get the conversation flowing again. After a few hundred years it just became hilarious.

A few months ago, a girl who's friendly with my group of friends (but who I don't know very well) came back to the UK for a few weeks after spending 8 months at sea with the navy. She had met a nice man on the ship she was on, and was bringing him to meet us all.
This was surprising as she'd been a butch lesbian for years, and no-one really knew what to think. She didn't want to talk about it at all, and it was obviously a tender subject for her, so we left it. While it was incredibly awkward meeting her new boyfriend, he was lovely and all was fine soon enough. So we're in the pub, chatting away with this ex lesbian wrapped around her new man, and the talking dies down, no-one is saying anything, everyone's eyes are darting around, not knowing where to take the conversation next.
I think to myself: "I know. I'll bang this hilarious little conversation starter out, everyone will laugh, ice will be broken and the chatting can resume."

"So, Becky... gays in the military, your thoughts?"

I didn't think it was possible for there to be something more silent than silence. I was wrong.
(reducedfatLOLcat, Thu 12 May 2011, 15:37, 2 replies)

Christmas.
And my small daughter was helping her granddad set the table in the dining room. I presume he must have run out of cutlery and sent her into the kitchen to ask for more. My (very straightlaced) mother did a passable impression of a gourami when my daughter came toddling in telling us that granddad needed more "Fork and knives"
(Freakmandu, Thu 12 May 2011, 15:34, 1 reply)

Any internet spawned joke out of location
May not be the case with anyone else, but i hate it
What's funny on the net, does not belong down the Pub. Cue some very blank stares from everyone else and an awkward pause if someone tries to vocalise something viral.
(MaxZero ZeroMax, Thu 12 May 2011, 15:29, 11 replies)

Last night...
My mates and I were walking around town and my mate said, 'Hey, lets go to the Irish bar'.
'Is that the one where your ex works?' I reply. He replies in the affirmative and off we trot. As we walk into the bar I notice three girls working behind the bar. Two are fit as f*ck, and the other one, while not ugly, just pales in comparison to the other two. I didn't know which one was his girlfriend, but I made an assumption that it couldn't possibly be the less attractive one.

We sat down and my mate said he'd call his ex-girlfriend over to serve us. So in my eternal wisdom I said, "Yeah, but just don't get the fat ugly one". So off he wanders and returns a short time later with...yes..you guessed it. The fat, ugly one. I must say, the next few minutes were a little awkward.
(The Archduke of South London I'm in your Girlfriend eating her organs, Thu 12 May 2011, 15:26, Reply)

I was invited to the leaving party of someone I knew from work who was about to move to Australia last summer. We were going to start off at a pub with a large beer garden, and then the plan was to move on to my erstwhile colleague's flat to drink everthing there, on the grounds that she couldn't take it with her. Everyone from the office was invited, but I was the only one who actually turned up, which meant that, of a group of about 40, I knew only the person whose party it was.

No matter. I was in a gregarious mood, and soon got chatting to a Tamil classicist. She was astonishingly drunk and loud, and got louder as the conversation progressed. I nodded and agreed politely with whatever it was she was chuntering on about, but was mainly trying to find a way to go and talk to someone else. And because my mind was elsewhere, I missed a crucial link in the logic of her monologue. The bit that made the connection between the autobiograohical bit about how a Tamil girl grew up to have a love of Roman literature, and that same Tamil girl standing on a table in the beer garden, making a Nazi salute, and yelling Seig Heil.

Conversation stopper? Oh yes. Not just ours, but everyone else's, too.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 12 May 2011, 15:10, Reply)

It's a gas...
While in the pub the other night, we were talking about various weird and wonderful things that we'd experienced at international scientific conferences. One guy was talking about a conference he'd been to in Bavaria round Christmas time and some of the odd social events that had been organised. A rather vocal Australian colleague expressed suprise and a small amount of disgust for some of these seemingly harmless added extras.

"It's a German tradition though, isn't it?" countered my friend.

"So's gassing Jews, but no-one's arguing we should do that at our next meeting, eh?" riposted the Aussie.

The table of German postdocs next to us finished their drinks and quietly made their way to a pub where they were less likely to get bombarded by offensive national stereotypes.

probably in Dresden
(Rakky (forgot her password) The muffin maverick, Thu 12 May 2011, 15:10, 2 replies)

This ties in with the "disasterous dates" suggestion too.
My good friend and I made the fool error of going on a double date together.

The girls were beautiful, stupid, and utterly shallow - not fitted to our pretentions of artistic, philosophical grandeur with which we so flattered our burgeoning late-teen egos.

As the conversation drew on, a point of conversation that passed briefly of my friend's mother's demise - she'd died from cancer when he was about ten. We then moved on, circled handbags, and finally went down the plughole of discussing fashion in general.

Having finally ground to a halt, we all sat at the table opposite each other, utterly bored with each other's company.

For want of something better to do, I lit another cigarette, and, rolling the end on the edge of the ashtray contemplatatively, indicated the ash therein and mused to my friend, "Oh look, Mike - it's your mum."

"Oh that's completely disgusting and SO disrespectful!" cried the girls huffily, grabbed their coats, got up and left.

Whether it was the excuse they needed to get shot of us, or a genuinely poncy reaction, I don't care - Mike and I proceeded to have a fine evening drinking heavily and discussing music.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 12 May 2011, 15:09, 2 replies)

Not so much the conversation I was in...
...But it stopped most of those around us rather abruptly.

Upon concluding a rant about the tedium of parenthood, sleepless nights, nappies & having to talk to everybody about babies all the bloody time: “… I’m sick of fucking babies, I can’t wait until she’s a toddler though”.
( zacherynuk @echo off, Thu 12 May 2011, 14:59, 1 reply)

When my friend came out
to a bunch of us sitting round in the pub. Another friend sat there pondering for a moment, then jumped in with a question:

'So what's gay sex like.'
'It's alright.'
'Hmmmmm. If it's only alright, I can't really understand why you bothered going gay....'

Long, awkward pause...
(SnowyTheWereRabbit the Leporid from Hell, Thu 12 May 2011, 14:58, 1 reply)

Clunk
Me: That was a bloody stupid thing to do. Were you dropped headfirst onto a brick when you a were child?

Pal: Yes.
( calgacus Non sum qualis eram bonae sub regno Cynarae, Thu 12 May 2011, 14:57, Reply)

I was in a bar with my mates,
Im about 21-ish and my mate brings his lass over with a few mates in tow.

One of them is gorgeous, nice smile, great rack and she's being introduced to us.

"Monkey this is Lesley, Lesley this is Monkey", She beamed and I politely nodded.



"Thats my mams name", says I




.
(Monkeystrumpet monkey. Monkey, MONKEY!!!, Thu 12 May 2011, 14:55, 3 replies)

POINT OF ORDER:
The vitality or living state of one's mother does not proportionally affect the funniness of the comment made about her, and as such legally may NOT be used as a counter.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 12 May 2011, 14:50, 3 replies)

My boss's stag do
was going very well. In the pub, we were discussing the Baby P case, in which a small child died, if your memory doesn't serve you well. My friend piped up with: "Who cares!? It's just a dead baby!"

In front of my boss. Whose fiancee had recently suffered a miscarriage.
( krang, Thu 12 May 2011, 14:48, 5 replies)

First year at university.
Got back after the Christmas holidays ready for the second term and started catching up with the other people in the same halls of residence.

"Hi Mark, did you have a good Christmas?"

"Not really, my dad died."

"Oh…"
( Lord Gnome, Thu 12 May 2011, 14:45, 3 replies)

Sitting round as you do...
..in the pub with 4 friends having an irrelevant conversation about life when one of the guys said to another "Did you know I'm the only one at this table that hasn't shagged your girlfriend"?

Needless to say this didn't go down too well.
(bdm should really be doing some work on, Thu 12 May 2011, 14:45, 4 replies)

And your mum?
Not particularly funny this one, just sharing.

All my first dates go the same way every time. We get on well, talking about the usual first date subjects, and every thing's going great. Then the subject will inevitably turn to things like "do you live near your parents? What do they do for a living?" etc. "Oh," I will reply, "my dad's retired now, but he used to be a radio engineer". Then she will say "and your mum?", to which I reply, "She died".

Boom! Headshot. Conversation's deader than my old mum. I think I might just start lying and saying she's fine and still working at a funny farm.
( Damocles wants no part of your debauchery, Thu 12 May 2011, 14:39, 9 replies)

Chatting to a bird at the pub
All going well. She asked me what my name was and I replied absolutely deadpan 'Well, up until the age of 10 it was Jon Venables.'

Dirty look and conversation over.

I've no idea where this came from, I wasn't trying to make a joke, I've never used that before - it was just the first thing that came to my head. It just came from nowhere. It was like I was cock-blocked by a momentary demonic possession.
( Regger, Thu 12 May 2011, 14:36, 6 replies)

I have problems relating to people.
I was at that Fabric spinoff under the the millenium dome before it
closed attending some crappy Psy night, rather messy on rather good
MDMA I went for smoke ended up talking to yet another person wearing hemp based clothes.
I couldn't recognise his accent, so i asked him "where are you from?"
... "Israel" ... me: "oh, my dad was in the holocaust."
(fleuronics, Thu 12 May 2011, 14:34, Reply)

I'm gonna slip this in quickly before I get told off
I relation to A Vagabond's post here

I went to school with this guy, top bloke, he really was a nice fella, extremely picked on (not by me) but done well for himself.*

It's funny how the public were so outraged, at school the kid was tough as nails and could take down the Rugby players with ease! Could he be the same person A Vagabond was talking about?

* for a Hobbit anyway
( SauronWibble I'll hold it, you lick it..., Thu 12 May 2011, 14:34, 2 replies)

A few years ago my band were playing a gig at The Star Inn
It had all been organised online and I had yet to meet the organiser, a guy called Greg. We got all our gear in, ordered some drinks and sat round the table chatting away. After a while a guy walks in and smiles over in our direction.

"Alright Mate!" I shout, "Are you Greg?"

Everyone at the table goes deathly quiet and looks first at me then at the guy.

"No" comes the reply, "I'm Kate"
( Peej, Thu 12 May 2011, 14:28, 7 replies)

Time of the month
Many years ago our group was sat around in the pub having a chat over a few pints. The conversation turned to things you like to get up to in bed but others might think are a bit weird. As we were all fairly refreshed the conversation was quite uninhibited, with fellows swapping tales of BDSM, buggery and golden showers. All kinks were listened to respectfully, discussed and all were accepted as being understandable (if a little odd at times) by those present.
All, that is, until the final member of the group piped up with his tales of how much he enjoyed drinking from the furry cup whilst his girlfriend had the painters in.
A shocked silence descended on the group; everyone sat stunned, blinking at each other incredulously. After somewhere in the region of 10 seconds of silence, during which our mate nervously flicked his eyes around the group in the vain attempt to find an ally, someone exclaimed "For fucks sake!" and everyone other than the Count stood up and left the table in a spontaneous demonstration of the need to get as far away from the offending story as possible.
We laugh about it now but we've never looked at him the same way since
(give it six weeks and it might clear up would like to butter your muffin, Thu 12 May 2011, 14:16, 5 replies)

Polite tea one day at the vicars.
I used to hang out with our local vicars kids alot when i was younger, we were the same age and had the excitement of starting school together. Being at the Vicars convivial lunch table one fine spring day the Vicar started telling us about lent and said that maybe we should each try and give something up, the usual replies from the vicars son and I, chocolate, sweets etc... Then the Vicars very sweet, 5 year old daughter piped up in a lispy voice "I'm going to give up some fucking for lent!" The Vicar and his wife looked astonished and the room went awfully quiet. That night at home I asked my parents what some fucking meant. Double whammy! It transpired in the end that the poor girl had spoonerised it and meant to say thumb sucking. Oh well.
( skeltonator Needs some new daps., Thu 12 May 2011, 14:12, 8 replies)