No, you put the phone down first….

No you….No, You…..

Nah….YOU put the phone down first….

Awww….No, you, *giggles* no you ….noooo…..You….

...


...and on...and fuckstabbingly on.


Yes, I have done this.

‘Being young at the time’ is no excuse.

When I think about it now, I get the same feeling as when someone scratches their nails down a blackboard.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Fri 28 Nov 2008, 9:37, 1 reply)

Love your load
Relatively new to my place of work of only 3 weeks in, I've been signed up to a manual handling course. Thinking it was all easy and won't last that long, I happily attended and thought nothing much of it.

The guy who signed me up for it had a good saying/name/quote for this course: "Love your box". This is because the way we are trained we have to hold the box as if we were hugging someone around their waist, literally.

The training wasn't so bad, with the trainer being quite a nice lady in her 30s. I had a few other collegues with me too, I think 5-6 in total.

I was dead wrong however with the training, it lasted for 3 hours and we went through a lot of scientific shit on the bones and stuff.

Needless to say, I was bored shitless and falling asleep/losing it, but when it finally ended the guy who signed us all up came in and had a chat with the trainer. After the short chatter, as we were getting ready to leave, he says to everyone

"Anyone remember the quote?"

I responded instantly (because I wanted to flee, fast) quite loud so everyone can hear with:

"Yeh, love your load."

The room went quiet temporarily, maybe for 2-3 seconds. I suddenly realised what I said and went slightly red. The lady trainer laughed too and so did a few others, but with a slight face of disgust.

I quickly explained I was thinking of the American term for "luggage" (like the back of a trailer/truck) but I think it was too late. My guy who arranged it kinda laughed but for some reason was more serious about it and left the room.

Well I returned to the office alone (I went in the loo to cool off temporarily and to stop bursting into laughter). That guy saw me again and went up to me and said:

"It's ok to love your own load, but another man's? Ewww."

I smiled nodded and decided to keep quiet for the remainder of the day.

:(
(robo-kai, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 9:37, 1 reply)

For the love of god, put them away...
Where to start? I can do these chronologically, alphabetically or by degree of mental scarring…

Ah yes. PhD, year two. Went to lab wearing fetching black shirt with popper fastenings down the front. To protect said shirt, slipped on lab coat, with popper fastenings down the front. The eagle eyed amongst you may be able to spot where this is going.
Tea break rolls around and, being the attention seeking little sausage I am, I ran to the door of the lab, faced my lab mates and pretended to rip off my lab coat, a la Clark Kent ripping off his shirt to reveal underneath the fabled “S”. What I actually did do was grab both sets off poppers by mistake, rip them open and reveal my tits in a grubby, greying bra with the underwiring poking out.

I think if you look up the word “fuckwit” in the dictionary, there may be a little picture of me next to it…
(Rakky (forgot her password) The muffin maverick, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 9:35, 9 replies)

Out of touch.
I used to frequent a pub close to work and got to know the landlady, Annie, and her husband Dougie quite well.
Anyway change of job meant I did not get in there for a few months and lost touch. So I breeze in one lunchtime a few months later with a cheery greeting of "Hello Annie, hows Dougie ?"
"Still dead" she says.
(Alf N. Safety - refusing you planning permission on, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 9:32, 1 reply)

Ah, the freudian slip.
To a colleauge, when setting up a network installation for a new customer:

"Dad? Er... shit... I mean... "
(Half of Stephen Fry's right buttock pissed on your dog on, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 9:25, Reply)

This happened...
...when my girlfriend came to stay at my house for the first time.

My bed has sprung slats, which are a great idea, except that they're held in place by plastic guides which are quite flimsy, and one of the slats wasn't sitting in its guide properly.

So we were on the bed, doing what new couples generally do on beds, when all of a sudden one of the slats decided to pop out.

A peculiarity of the design is that once one pops out, so to the rest, hence:

"BANG... CRACK!!!!! CRACK!!!! CRACK!!! CRACK!! CRACK!!!"

Followed by hysterical laughter from the both of us.

Then the door opens. It's my housemate. He's wondering what the commotion is.

Well, it's just two naked people, still "joined together" as it were, wedged in between a mattress and a bedframe.

Fantastic.
(Half of Stephen Fry's right buttock pissed on your dog on, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 9:24, Reply)

When asked a question by a teacher
I replied

"Yes Mum!"

Dammit!
(Jugular, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 9:21, 4 replies)

My grandfathers funeral
We led the procession as we should.

We led the procession as we should in a bright red Cavalier SRi.

We led the procession as we should in a bright red Cavalier SRi which as we started the procession went over a very high speed bump which ripped the exhaust off the car.

We drove about ten miles to the crematorium leading the way at fuck all MPH with the car sounding like something crossed between a boy racer mobile and a formula one car.

We laugh about it now but at the time we just cringed the whole way our faces as red as a monkeys bum.

It just didn't suit the mood of this particular funeral.
( Peej, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 9:20, 1 reply)

I've just cringed at my spak-handedness
I have just noticed that in my not quite awake state this morning I've put my t-shirt on the wrong way round.

I put it on at 6am, it's now 9:15am.

Over three hours!

God shoot me now.
(Herr Doktor Lemminge Is bored, so cheer me up!, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 9:18, 2 replies)

Other edited lowlights
1. Attending a New Year's party & whilst the female of the house was searching for a CD on all fours, crawling up behind her to get a great view of her (admittedly sumptuous) arse & exclaiming "Dear me, that's fantastic"....

2. Wanking to hotel porn in a hotel room in Northampton at 4am whilst minging with drink, with my best mate in the other bed in the room, and shouting "Come you bastard" at my cock, because it wouldn't work due to the beer. I'm sure the people in the next bedroom were happy...

3. Pulling in Exeter & shagging a woman who was classy enough to at least dismount when she answered the phone call from her boyfriend wondering where she was......

All of which are now stories told with regularity & increasing exaggeration by my mates. The hotel wanking one has been known to last half an hour with minute detail.

EDIT - full version now in reply.
(Worthless wishes he had the brains of a pigeon, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 9:01, 4 replies)

ugh....
I have has so many embarrassing moments that I have blocked from memory, but here are two that I can remember:

Let's set the way-back-machine to the late 80's when I was a little bit shorter, and unsurprisingly, a lot younger, say 9 years old.

I had been dragged out into the town centre with my mum and sister this particular Saturday, and the two of them had decided it was quite essential to trawl around every damn clothes shop in the high street.

So we all head into the next shop, by which time I'm as bored as a bored thing watching boring things. I decide to be a bit nonchalant, and lean up against the side of a large glass display cabinet that currently holds a mannequin. I put my arm out, shift my weight to one leg, and lean.

This doesn't work so well when what you think is a solid glass case, doesn't actually have sides. It must have looked not too dissimilar from that classic scene from Only Fols and Horses where DelBoy fell through the bar, only with more style - I went completely over, into the mannequin, which fell forward into the glass (thank the good lord that it didn't smash) and I was left lying on the floor.

Yes, nearly everyone saw it. Yes everyone laughed, and no, no one bothered to help me up.

Time for one more: this was only a few weeks ago, so I'm a little bit taller, and a lot older. This occured in a very popular DVD/Music/entertainments store in Oxford Street.

I pop upstairs to grab a DVD, I'm not sure where the TV section is off the top of my head, so I'll have to look around; I walk around from the escalator, only to become aware that four guys are following me.

They were all dressed in suits and bowler hats, all doing the Monty Python Ministry of silly walks routine, and I was their hapless victim. Yes, they followed me around the entire store, and yes, they kept asking me if they could use my walk for their ministry. Yes, people watched.

They only fucked off when I conceeded defeat and asked what the hell they were advertising (I had worked it out, obviously, but it was the only way to get them to give up, without resorting to killing all 4 of them)

I won't make a joke about length - it's too embarrassing...
( theoriginalsteve <this space intentionally left blank>, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 8:59, Reply)

Porn vs. Laundry
Posting that last answer reminded me of a guy I knew at school. At the age of fifteen he had an impressive collection of about twenty porn mags that I'd been lucky enough to peruse on occasion. Anyway, he decided he wanted to utilise them all at once for a fantastic mega-wank experience. So, he went through all of them and found the best double page spread in each and then laid them out to cover his entire bedroom floor so he could look at them all while he did the deed. He told us it took ages picking and choosing the lucky twenty or so ladies that were to feature in this sexual extravaganza but finally they were all assembled in front of him in a veritable collage of tits and fannies.

He was just unzipping his fly to start the fun when the door burst open and his mother came in to give him his clean laundry. Apparently she just stood on them all as she made her way to his bed to deposit his clothes. Turning to leave she quickly glanced down, saw all the upclose and personal minge shots and didn't even bat an eyelid, just walked out again.

Strangely he wasn't in the mood anymore.
( Gleeballs is mostly made out of chocolate and hate., Fri 28 Nov 2008, 8:54, 4 replies)

Not me, but I always cringe when I remember it...
My ex girlfriend/guard dog was invited to a wedding as a friend of a friend - you know how some ladies don't like to got to weddings or parties on their own. Anyway, as it happens this friend and my girlfriend went to the church and awaited the arrival of the bride.

Now, as a friend of a friend, my ex had decided to stay right at the back of the church - after all, the brides family and friends deserved the better seats, which put her very close to the church entrance.

Then, in all her beauty, the bride arrived. As you can imagine this moment had been planned all of her life and every detail mattered. She had never looked or felt so good, and now all eyes were on her.

It was as this woman was about to make her grand entrance to the awaiting audience that my ex caught sight of her and noticed a blemish near her mouth - makeup? wine? last cake? doesn't mater - she had a tissue and was able to catch the bride just before she made her entrance - if she was quick she could remove the mark and that's what any good friend of a friend would do, right? Cue chaos and tears as my ex rubs the mark with a tissue, another friend jumps on my ex and the bride screams as her birthmark that she thought she had covered as well as she could was revealled to the world.

Unfortunately I don't know any more about the wedding or whether there was any long lasting psychological damage as just about everybody in the church decided it would be best if my ex left the building and didn't come back...

If you're reading this or you know the people involved then it's only fair to let you know that she's still very, very, sorry...but aaaarrrrggghhh! [buttocks locked and need a surgeon to separate]
(downhill without brakes . It was the worst day of my life, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 8:45, Reply)

If ever a question was written with me in mind...
At a barbeque, the burgers were flipping, the conversation was sizzling, and the drink was flowing. Although in my case it wasn't so much flowing as flooding. I decided in my booze-addled mind it would be a good idea to ask the hostess' sister if she was the fit one...

Also, I should mention this was at a b3ta bash.
( jim_bob can herd cats., Fri 28 Nov 2008, 8:44, Reply)

Oh My Fucksy
Thanks for this b3ta. Yesterday I was wracking my brain for answers and now I can't help but have my memory inundated with a landslide of toe-curling moments featuring yours truly. Lets start with sex related faux pas'.

1. I was an early developer. Now contrary to popular opinion, this is not cool. It means your body is capable of doing things that your mind is not ready to understand or deal with. I hit puberty before anyone had even explained what the hell it was which lead to a whole host of hilariously cringeworthy moments. So, how early did I develop? Well the number one way NOT to find out about puberty is your mother, while you're still so young you're not embarassed about her coming into the bathroom while you're taking a bath, happily exclaiming "Eeeee! You've got little hairs!" while pointing at your naked crotch. Until that moment, I'd never even noticed! I'm not sure I'd even turned ten yet.

2. Without the more grown up sensibility of self-preservation this is not a good thing. When I was eleven I found out the number one way to lose an argument. A slanging match with my mother ended with me calling her selfish.

"Selfish?" She retorted. "You know what's selfish? Jerking off all over your bedsheets and then expecting me to clean them."

Incidentally, the only comeback to this is to claw your ears out and roll around on the floor in agonised and whimpering humiliation.

3. This early development allowed me to lose my virginity at the age of thirteen. Again this sounds a lot cooler than it actually is. (If it helps I only lost my girl virginity, it was an embarassingly long time until I lost my boy virginity which turned out to be the preferred method). Now skip forward a few months to me hearing a word on the telly that I'd never heard before. So, in front of my entire extended family who happened to be visiting at the time, AND despite having already seen and bloody touched one at a stupidly young age I loudly asked "Mum, what's a clitoris?" to the shock and horror of my entire family.

Splendid!

4. Skip to just turning fourteen and my mum is helping me change my sheets when a nifty bit of footwork results in her kicking a well thumbed copy of Asian Babes out from it's hiding place under the bed into full view. She was remarkably cool and just laughed it off while my cheeks burned. At the time I wore glasses and managed to blush so furiously I actually managed to steam them up! I thought that only happened on TV!

5. Having just passed my fourteenth birthday my cousin is getting married and I'm an usher so I'm dragged out to buy a suit. Trying it on, in front of a sales assistant, a crowded shop and several family members who have come to oversee the process my mother again points to my crotch, this time exclaiming: "Eeee! Is that all you down there?" in a loud voice. While I'm hoping the ground will swallow me up she starts telling the family and the sales lady that she'll have to get me 'special pants' to reduce the bulge. Not only did she do this but she then proceeded to tell several people at the wedding that I was wearing 'special pants' without a word of explanation. This lead to the majority of guests thinking they were made of rubber and I had an incontinence problem.

Marvellous!

Oh god, it's no good, I have to stop, I've bitten through my knuckles just writing this. I've got a horrible feeling there's more to come though. How the hell can I still look my mother in the eye?
( Gleeballs is mostly made out of chocolate and hate., Fri 28 Nov 2008, 8:43, 3 replies)

Operation time
Beejay's post just prodded this memory out of me:

I was in a hospital ward, recovering from an operation to have my nose re-set after it was broken by my dog.

I'm not good with strong narcotics. Like general anaesthetic.

So, I'm groggily working out where I am, who I am etc. In the bed next to me is a young man with his girlfriend. She's pleasant-looking, and she looks concerned about her boyf's health.

Nothing much is happening, so I make some small talk. "What are you here for?" I ask nicely. "Broken leg" he says, resignedly.

Oh, ok.

"And when are you due?" I ask the girl.

The silence following felt eternal.

"I'm. Not. I'm. Just. Fat."

Ouch.

I told you I wasn't good with strong narcotics.
(David CopAFeel Used to be The_Elcat - Spouting crap since 1970., Fri 28 Nov 2008, 8:42, 2 replies)

My mate's missus
Or at least his missus at the time. I developed a fascination for her, one which tended to rear its head when I was mashed (usually after a "Leo Sayer" on a Sunday).

Dave would then take great delight at circuit training on Monday night taking the piss about my previous night's antics, declaring undying lust etc etc

The greatest of which occurred when he had bought her some pork scratchings. Having satiated her need for pig, she discarded the bag, with it's usual collection of crumbs in the bottom.

Having had copious libation, I was hungry, so picked up the discarded bag, tore it open & used my tongue to get into the corners & eat the crumbs.

"Dave, Dave, he's licking me packet" she exclaimed.

And allegedly with perfect comic timing & the leer of a pervert in the presence of exercising teenage girls I responded

"I wish I fucking was"

'Cos I'm just that fucking classy me. Still, now he's binned her, it gives him a good story for the bar.
(Worthless wishes he had the brains of a pigeon, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 8:41, Reply)

Just remembered another one
Walked into a pub one day, couple of mates standing at the end of the bar in black suits.

Cue me saying "Oh look, it's the men in black!"

One turns to me and says "We've just been to my dad's funeral."

I did an about turn and left.
( snee held his breath since, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 8:40, Reply)

On seeing a friend
about a year after he got really badly assaulted in town on a night out (Smashed repeatedly about the noggin with a length of scaffolding) we chatted about how well things has turned out, he had a cool scar a new missus and then I quipped "and your speech therapy has worked wonders!" and yes he had been re-taught how to speak from scratch and told me all this like a primary school kid reading with. a. bit. of. a. gap between . words.
( hypnochimp, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 8:25, Reply)

Another pub related one - and more nudity
So, the new pool table had just been delivered, and I decided to give my mate a game.

Now, locally, there's an unwritten rule that if you get 7 balled, you drop your trousers and do 2 laps of the table with them round your ankles.

I got 7 balled.

I'd forgotten I was going commando that day.

The bar manager had videoed the whole thing...

Fast forward 6 months, my mate had returned from the Czech Republic where he'd been visiting his parents (and restocking on firewater - see my previous post). Comes up to me in the bar and, with a huge grin, informs me that the video is still doing the rounds in the Czech Republic - apparently some woman had seen it, taken a copy on her phone, and proceeded to pass it on to just about everyone she knew out there.

There's nothing like having good mates eh?
( snee held his breath since, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 8:10, 2 replies)

I'll just get my coat
A few months ago I was round at a friends house having a BBQ. It was your pretty typical BBQ amongst friends, with sizzling sausages, burnt burgers and plenty of booze.
The evening was merry, and all was good.
Until one of the guys asked if there was any paracetamol as he had a head ache.
"But you've been drinking, you shouldnt take paracetomal right?" I said.
Everyone was saying "No its fine"
"Yeah but thats how people polish themselves off dont they? Drink loads of booze... and... take... paracetomal"
I slowed down as I was saying it, but I couldnt stop saying it. I couldnt change what I was saying. Oh god what had I done?

The room fell silent, and I looked over to the poor woman whos husband had killed himself just 6 months prior. I could see the physical impact in her. Ooops.

Oh crap! A Mass panic starts in my head, do I emphasize the fact I just fucked up? Start appologising? Or do I just quickly change the subject? Oh god what to change the subject to? Mind is blank. Or.. lets just make out its not such a big deal after all! Yes that'll do it!

"Tho personally I think thats quite a nasty way of doing it. Apparantly it can be really painful. The best way is the leaving your car running in a garage. You just fall asleep hehehehehehe"

Yeah, I'll just get my coat.
(Miggyman, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 8:04, Reply)

Tact & Diplomacy
I can't claim this one, but still cringed, it was bad.

During A -levels, I had a mate Simon who was a Septic and a group of us used to hang out between lessons, drinking coffee etc etc.

The group regularly included Diane, the then girlfriend of one of my mates. At one stage it was apparent that Diane had, shall we say, a downy upper lip. We aren't talking porn-tash, but at one stage it was noticeable & I'm sure a 16/17 year-old girl wasn't at all sensitive about it, oh no....

So it was nice of Simon one day to sit down at the table with his coffee, point to Diane & say "Nice moustache!!".

For some reason Diane needed the toilet....
(Worthless wishes he had the brains of a pigeon, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 8:02, Reply)

Oooh...ever tried drinking firewater?
Probably a pearoast, but what the hey...

T'was a balmy summer's evening and I was in my favourite watering hole, sinking back cheap Carlsberg like it was, well, coloured water.

The Czech bar manager comes up to me and asks "Do you want to try Czech firewater?"
Now, growing up with a French parent, I was quite used to having the odd sip of the French variety at various weddings etc., so I sadi "Why not..."

3 shots later, and several pints, I bade my farewells and went on my way home - this is where things get vague and I rely on third party accounts to fill in the details.

In the morning, a hungover snee prises his eyes open, groans and falls out of his bed. Looking around the room, I can't see my clothes - must have gotten undressed downstairs think I and wander down to check and put coffee on.

As I get down the stairs, I notice the front door wide open, my keys still in the lock and in clear view, 3 boxed computers I was sorting out for someone.

"Phew, that's a bit of luck." I think, closing the door.

Wandering into the lounge I still can't find my clothes, and, puzzled, wander into the kitchen to put the kettle on. Idly glancing into the back garden, I spot my (neatly folded) clothes on the bench.

Scratching my head, I retrieve them thinking I must have - for whatever reason - got undressed out there.

A few hours later, having bathed, shaved and made myself almost human again, I decide to go get 'hair of the dog'. This is when I bumped into a neighbour...

"Hi snee, I saw you walking home with your clothes folded in your arms last night." she said with a huge grin.

* CRINGE *

Alas for me, no hole opened up for me to disappear into, I stood there doing a great goldfish impression for a few seconds, then fled.

Now, anytime firewater is requested by friends in the Tudor Rose, this story is told with gusto, but hey, like I said - it was a hot summer evening so length wasn't an issue.
( snee held his breath since, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 7:59, 2 replies)

I, as some know, am a Nursey
I went staright into ICU from qualifying, full of my own piss and importance and ready to heal the world.

One day my patient needed to have a chest Xray, a regular thing to be done in ICU. The portable Xray machine arrived and I said to the obviously blossoming and pregnant daughter of the patient "Better stand back, the radiation is'nt good for the baby!".

To which she replied "But I'm not pregnant"


Yeah she was just a fatty.
( Beejay Proper old bastard, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 7:54, 1 reply)

My brother's missus...
... is a Merkin (as some of your old-timers might remember) and has a childhood friend who lives in the US: Nina.

Nina is pretty much a sister to my brother's wife, but only gets to visit the UK with maddening rarity. This apparently is due to the land of the free having only a week of holiday per year... or something or other.

The Scene: 10 or so of My brothers best mates and respective missuses. Party at his house, Nina is in the UK and visiting, and brother's wife - 2 glasses of wine down - has realised that Nina has to leave the next day. Floooods of tears, much sobbing etc.

Both disappear upstairs to talk quietly. A few minutes later Nina pops her head round the door, and gives us an update. I was in awe that one person's departure could cause so much grief, so I decide to make this point known...

"So to sum up Nina, you're leaving, and She's so upset about this that she can't stop crying?"

"Yup"

..... Now.. I MEANT to say It must be nice to know that you mean so much to her

Instead I said "You must be so proud of yourself"

A total and utter brain-fart.

The room went quiet, and I became the centre of scornful attention. :o(

I had to chase a crying Nina down and explain what the hell I'd meant to say, but the scars remain.
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Fri 28 Nov 2008, 7:53, 2 replies)

Car.
Wow, just remembered this.

My first serious girlfriend. I was 17.

Her Mum had died about a year previous. She was driving her late Mum's car around once she got her "P" plates (Provisional licence).

We were discussing the fact that she no longer had her Mum in her life at a fairly important time of life.

"Well, at least you got a car out of it." I cheerfully said.

I felt like Josef Fritzl at a fatherhood convention at that moment.
(David CopAFeel Used to be The_Elcat - Spouting crap since 1970., Fri 28 Nov 2008, 7:35, 1 reply)

oops!
Many years ago used to work in a factory in North Nottingham

Shitty job, Shitty place, look at BNP list, says it all.

Standing outside with the guys having a break, bacon sandwich,fag etc.

One of the guys only about 16 yrs old and a thinks he's a bit smart, (gobbie shite).

Boss walks in, gob shite on form, "Hey Chris, nice suit, been to a funeral!"......

No helping 'em sometimes.

length...about the rest of the week.
(ducttape, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 7:23, Reply)

Time to speak
When I was a young un (probably 7 or 8) I was at my sisters flat with my mum and my sister's boyfriend.
They were in a conversation and I wanted to say something. As I was a result of the Thatcher education system I showed my family how well trained I was. I put my hand up like I was in class.
(muzzvsworld, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 5:59, Reply)

epic fail redefined
a long while ago when i was a much more volatile loaf, i was dating a girl whose favourite thing in the world was winding me up.
i was walking beside her on a road, in the middle of a blazing row, pushing my bike.. finally, i'd had enough. i shouted something final-sounding like 'yeah? well you can fuck right off, i'm gone' leapt onto my trusty steed, and tore off into the middle distance in a cloud of dust.

ok.
what ACTUALLY happened.

i leapt onto my bike, span the pedals, gave it a little TOO much welly, span the rear wheel, came off the pedals, my testicles described a perfact arc onto my stem, which i rode triumphantly like some kind of hellish mechanical bull, across the grassy bit, into and across a gravel driveway, and straight into a filthy, stinking, stagnant pond in some old person's front garden, where i lay, incredulously clutching my hairy sack of magic and wondering which of the many deities i've offended over the years decided to smite me in such an underhanded manner.
all to the soundtrack of my girl laughing like a hyena on nitrous oxide.
the worst bit was i managed to render the bike unrideable, and had to walk home, dejected, smelling like a tramp's gusset, and covered in green, stinking slime.
massive, biblical fail.
(UppityDamnPrimate LET'S OPEN THIS F*CKING PIT UP, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 5:54, 9 replies)