Printer Installation
A few years ago back when I was doing proper IT I was installing a new printer at the reception desk. This necessitated asking the cute blonde receptionist to move from the desk so I could connect up the cabling under there.

There are few occasions before or since that have made me want to run and hide quite as much as turning to a young lady, network cable in hand and saying "Can I just get between your legs and plug something in"

I nearly died on the spot!
(bill, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 12:07, 2 replies)

I'm at a party
chatting, in a casual and genial way, with a few friends, and their friends.

There's a girl there who I haven't met before, but who seems to be quite chummy with a few of my good mates.

Somehow the issue of nationality comes up, most people are various mixtures of English and Welsh etc. This girl pipes up, "I'm half German and half Czech".

I respond (at the time wholly unaware of any lascivious connotations), "Oh, does that mean you can invade yourself then?".
(LickOutTheJamsMotherfuckers!, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 12:06, Reply)

Not sure how this happened...
About 5 years ago, a friend and I were picked to go on a college trip to Germany on a "Europa Macht Schuler" programme celebrating arts and culture etc.

We were given some free time to wander around the malls and do some shopping.

My friend and I were talking and walking at the same time (normally we can do this without problems).

SOMEHOW we walked into a brass band set up in the middle of the mall (instruments but no pepple), knocking over a drum. A woman came over to help us up, hissing "get up, get up, you're on live TV."

CRINGE. Multiple cringes, actually.

That's probably in some German Auntie's bloomers file now.

I'm still not really sure how it happened. Maybe the drums attacked.
(YayLady is cold, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 12:05, 1 reply)

Once when I was a teenager I discovered the delights of alcohol
fast forward a few months and I went to my best friend's house and we proceeded to watch some films and drink a few beers.

Cue my mate's older sister walking into his room to find out what all the loud talking was about.

Maybe it was the way that the harsh fluorescent light glimmered from her silk-like golden hair, or the way that she used to playfully bite the corner of her lower lip when she was deep in thought; I'll never know what it was that attracted me to her. I thought up a witty and mature reply to her questioning gaze, fully expecting her to see how urbane and charming I was and fall deeply in love with me...

"He's inebriated and I aren't".




Bugger.
( M3rx likes the Asian ladies, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 12:04, Reply)

The Kylie CD was still playing...
About 5 years ago living in Sydney at the time I was at a friends birthday party and introduced to a couple of her friends.

I got chatting with the 2 guys and as I worked for a car rental company they were telling me about a holiday they'd had a while back where they rented a 4x4 jeep. When offered fully comp insurance they questioned it and were essentially told that without it if you have an accident that's your fault you've just bought a crashed jeep.

So they took the advice and opted for the extra insurance, turns out it was a wise move as about 3 hours later they find themselves upside down in a ditch in the middle of nowhere, the new 4x4 totally trashed by the large rocks and where it's rolled in the ditch. Reflecting back they say "the most surreal thing was the whole time the CD player was still playing Kylie, even when the emergency services showed up".

Always one to try and find a silver lining to every cloud I say "Well it could have been worse...".
Intrigued they both gave their full attention as I continued "...I mean it could have been a really dodgy CD like the Village People or something!"

They looked at me a bit puzzled.

"I mean, 2 blokes alone in a jeep in the middle of nowhere might look a bit dodgy eh!?" I went on.

For some reason the conversation seemed to lose some of it's enthusiasm at that point. One of the guys went to talk to someone else and the conversation became laboured until they left about 20 mins later.

My friend came over and said "They're a great couple arn't they!?".

Oops.
(golddust QOTW now revolves around being a cunt, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 12:02, Reply)

Have you ever....
Have you and your missus ever been so overcome by the need to shag that you've disappeared into the spare bedroom while you believe that no-one else is paying attention?

Has the door slowly swung open while you're gently feeding your swollen meat into her from behind, biting your lip so ass to be quiet, and with your eyes closed tight...

Did 3 generations of her family noticed the open door before either of you did?

No? Well fucking Hooray for you then. :o(
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Fri 28 Nov 2008, 12:00, Reply)

I'll admit it
I often set myself up for a fall. I don't do it deliberately, but often enough I make an utter twat out of myself.

Last Saturday is a prime example. Me and the Mother are masive Rich Hall fans and went to see him doing some stand up and some songs as his alter ego. Afterwards he came out and I managed to pluck up the courage to ask him to sign my CD. 'What's your name?' he asks.

Uhhhhh.

Name. My name. What the hell is it again? 'Urrrmm, Missc' I stammer at him. He signs it, I thank him and stumble out the hall. But the one thing I wanted was my photo with him, I dreamed of it. The embarassment was still strong from the name forgetting debacle, but my Mother ended up shoving me back in for the photo I wanted so badly.

I was cool until he put his arm around me. As soon as his hand touched me, I turned bright red, started shaking, lost the power of speech and have a look on my face like I'm standing with Jesus.

So uncool *cringes*
(missc, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 11:59, 2 replies)

My old man
is a complicated soul. His main problem is he's very shy, which is a problem for everyone else as they miss out on the white-knuckle levels of genius of which he is capable.

However, this was not one of these moments. It is 1993 and I am in Blackpool, on holiday, keeping it real. Finding ourselves in need of a piss, my father, brother and I retire to a public convenience of some Victorian splendour. Probably mid-way between my dad's eventually successful search of Blackpool's tourist haunts to find "one of them pens".

The Crystal Maze was a big thing at the time. It was this, rather than anything else, which caused my father to jokingly make an achingly hip pop-cultural reference over his shoulder to my brother and I, whilst stood at the urinal. "I don't understand what I am supposed to do!", quoth he. Sadly, youthful of bladder, we'd both long since shaken the drips off and were already waiting outside. Our places taken by some other children. Oh, lord.

He finished his dad-sized wee as quickly as possible and snuck out to tell us his tale of woe. Had the ground opened up to swallow him, we'd have all jumped in as well, I should think. Still, it could have been worse. If it had happened today, he'd probably have been banged up for being a paedo. Simpler times!
( dotmund .co.uk, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 11:53, Reply)

Oh fuck, remembered another at work.
I was outside talking with our Vice President about some project I was involved in - very dry conversation, but basically "well done Dixon old chap, glad to have you on board" "Thank you VP madame, I'm looking forward to the challenges ahead this year"

When a colleague runs behind me and pokes me with both hands on either side of my ribcage in a playful way.

The unexpected shock of this caused me to let out a massive fart. The VP kept eye contact with me and simply said "keep up the good work" and walked away before my bright red face exploded.

My colleague had already fled the scene howling with laughter.
( Dixipoos Bye Bye Blackbird, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 11:52, 4 replies)

Wank Wank Wank
About a year ago whilst coming out of the shower i suddenly felt rather horny.

So i sat bollock naked and dripping wet (mostly from the shower + some sweat) tugging away.

After a good 15 mins of flicking through different porno's i blurted out my mini children.

Then with my tired post-cum face looked up to see the blinds were fully open, with it being the middle of the day, and a large group of neighbours in the block of flats opposite staring at me in (i would like to say pleasure) utter disgist.

That would have been manageable if not for the fact i had to see then every fuckin day on the way to work

I have never cirnged so much in my entire life.
(NuffMuff fucks shrubbery, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 11:49, Reply)

cringeworthy?
how about your best mate's drunken father trying to ram his tongue down your throat, at the same time as groping your tits, while his wife is right there, glaring at him.

i have NEVER given him any indication that i'd want this kind of thing(i wouldn't, he's an ugly psycho), i didn't do anything wrong, but it was still hideously embarrassing.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 11:47, 2 replies)

My Dentist Shame
Mugwump's excellent tale reminds me of my own moment of cringe in a dentist's chair.

I had a complicated bit of dental work done in my teens, the result of which means I've got -to all intents and purposes - a dead tooth cemented in my mouth.

After a few years it became complete agony. It turned out that it had become infected, and there were what appeared to be gallons of pus behind the horrible grey thing in my mouth.

I was sent to a very nice middle-aged dentist, who drilled through the dead tooth and slurped all the pus out. This took several appointments, which I rather looked forward to on account of her *cough* enormous bosom, the eighth and ninth wonders of the world, all in a tight lab coat. Geek heaven.

The pain disappeared almost immediatedly, and I lay there in an almost blissful trance, her enormous cleavage pressed against the side of my head.

"How's that feel?" she asked.

Who knows how the male brain works? I was only supposed to nod my head to indicate I was fine. But no. Dr Freud took over.

"Nice," I replied. "Nice tits."

She sent me to have my enamel scraped in the most painful way imaginable. That was my final appointment.

Still, nice tits.
( Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 11:45, 3 replies)

Hmmm
I believe it was Rakky's post that reminded me of this.

This was quite recent actually, maybe less than a month ago.

I teach EFL English for a living - I do company classes most days in the morning/lunchtimes, then academy stuff with children and teenagers in the evenings.

One day, having been companying first, I was dressed fairly smart (shirt and black trousers, rather than jeans/T-shirt). In my first class (children) I bent down to pick up my board pen, and heard what sounded like a fart. No one commented or laughed or anything (Knew it wasn't me, so they didn't hear themselves over their inane chatter). Didn't realise what had happened until my fourth class of the day - when the loveliest of the lovely ladies in the group mentioned (before anyone else arrived luckily) that there was a large hole in my trousers, and she could see everything. I looked, and the damn things had split from the crotch almost to the knee down the seams. (before you ask - I normally sit down in my classes, which would be why no one else noticed before).
(bamboozled Can hear you getting fatter, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 11:41, Reply)

Mother.
My mother was the cause of intense embarrassment to me as a child. She seemed oblivious of the cringeworthy damage she could inflict on her only son. If I had arranged to go into the city when I was about 15, she would insist that she had to call all my friend’s mothers to make sure that everything was kosher. I would stall and delay with the phone numbers, but she had to call or I wouldn’t be able to go.

It was desperately awful listening to her call the parents when she had a few glasses of wine in her. Worst of all was the time when I got a chance to go with the cool kids at school.

“Hello? This is Powervator’s mum. Powervator. Yes, your Charlie’s friend Powervator.”

(Whispers to me, “are you sure you are friends with this chap Charlie?”) (“YES,” I hiss).

“Oh, so they are going into the city tomorrow? Yes, are you sure? And you are ok with that? I wouldn’t know what to do if Powervator went missing. Could I have an emergency contact number for you please?...”

Next call.

“Oh hello, this is Powervator’s mother. Yes, Powervator. Oh your daughter is going? Powervator didn’t tell me that girls were going. Is your daughter sweet on my Powervator? Oh you don’t know? Perhaps you could ask, I need to know about any romance! No, he’s a good clean boy. Oh you’ve just asked her, and she’s already got a boyfriend? I wonder why my Powervator needs to go with her then…”

Next call.

“Oh hello, this is Powervator’s mother. I am making sure that everything is alright for my boy to go into the city centre tomorrow with your son. Oh you didn’t know Jon was going? Well aren’t you glad I called to tell you! They probably lie. Yes I know, aren’t they awful? Oh yes, I search for drugs and porn in Powervator’s bedroom everyday when he is at school. No, just a Razzle last year….”

My face is red even now. I made friends easily when I lived at home but strangely I didn’t keep many.
(powervator and NONE SHALL PASS, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 11:35, 1 reply)

The wife was cringing more than me
I have a number of incidents that are cringe worthy and if I get the time I will hopefully add them up later this week. Thought I will kick mine off with one that the wife is sick of hearing when we meet my family.

Around 5 years ago we were at my brothers 21st birthday party, a bbq at my parents house with a shitload of alcohol. My wife has never known when she has had enough to drink and over the course of the evening she became monumentally wasted. I have seen her badly drunk but this has to be the worst she has ever been, so bad that we couldn’t make the 10 -15 minute walk home and had to stay at my parents house for the night (She passed out in the spare bedroom fully clothed so I just thought it would be the best option).

Sometime in the early hours I felt her stumble out of bed and make her way to the loo, I then stayed awake to hear her flush the toilet take a few steps and.....nothing. I jumped out of bed and ran to see if she was ok. The bathroom and the landing were empty, not a good sign. I then systematically checked the downstairs rooms to see if she had wandered down there for some reason.

It was after I checked the kitchen that I realised where she was. My wife and I had dated once before when we were 18 and when we were going out then I had the larger bedroom with my brother, but now I had left home there had been a bit of a switchover of rooms and now the large room was the bedroom where my parents slept. Think this is cringe worthy its about to get worse.

I crept into the big bedroom and sure enough there were three outlines in the bed. I thought I could make the embarrassing situation a bit well less widespread by quietly waking up my missus and sneaking her back to the guest bedroom. Wrong.

Me: Come on get up you’re in the wrong bed

Wife: (Loudly) No I’m not what are you on about?

My Mum: He’s right Monswife, this is the wrong bed

Wife: (still way too loud) Ah its ok they love me anyway don’t you Tony (My Dad)

(Wife turns over in bed and hugs my dad)

Dad: (While laughing) Yes but I think you may want to get back in your own bed now

(At this point I think my wife’s sober side must have kicked in as she suddenly said ok then night and went back to bed)

The next morning my wife couldn’t get out of bed, not because of the hangover or anything (That was pretty bad) but because of the fact that she couldn’t find her clothes. My mum found them in a pile next to their bed, which means she got totally undressed before getting in with my parents.

My missus has never lived this incident down and it was even mentioned in the best mans speech at our wedding a year later.
(mon bison powered by magnets, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 11:34, 1 reply)

Went to a party a few years ago and sidled up to a girl I hadn't seen for years
and due to being slightly inebriated I said "glad to see you've taken all of that metal shit out of your face", referring to her nose and lip rings.

She then turned towards me properly and showed me the other side of her face. The one with all of the "metal shit" still in it.

Whoops.
( M3rx likes the Asian ladies, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 11:33, 1 reply)

Ooooo just remembered this one
We had a gig in the Star Inn and were sposed to meet someone called Greg there.

Bloke walks through the door and I say "Hi are you Greg"

"No I'm Kate"

The best I could come up with was to laugh hysterically and go to the bar.
( Peej, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 11:32, Reply)

Enzyme's story below could not have come at a better time
Not five minutes ago, the rather strident german student in my office announced that she was only available to go for beer till "eighteen hundred hours" this evening. On being asked whether she was doing somthing particularly military after that, I piped up from the corner...

"like invading Poland?"

Does anyone have a gag I can borrow?
(Rakky (forgot her password) The muffin maverick, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 11:30, 2 replies)

Told my friend the below joke:

Q: What's funnier than a blind, deaf and dumb clown?

A: A blind, deaf and dumb clown with downs syndrome.


Totally forgot his brother is downs. I wish I'd fucking died. RIGHT. THEN.

He's never really spoken to me properly since. It's a shame, he was a good mate who normally has a great sense of humour and he knows I love his bro to bits... I'll try apologising again soon.
(Colonel Santiago Introduced surprised kitty to the world., Fri 28 Nov 2008, 11:28, 4 replies)

Company Bike.
Picture the scene:-

A deserted Head Office at 5.30pm on a Friday, just me and a colleague, Stuart, having a chat - everyone else gone home. It was a big open plan office with those little dividers between desks that come up to chin height when you're sat down.

Stuart asks me if I saw what Sue was wearing today?
"You mean little Sue the Company Bike?" says I.
"Company Bike?"
"Yeah, you know, everyones had a ride! She's being knobbed by the General Manager at the moment, bet she goes like a belt fed wombat!"

Cue very loud laughter.

Then Sue stands up 5 yards away where she'd been doing some filing.

We ducked down and didn't dare leave the office for half an hour.

I nearly didn't go into work on the Monday. She never spoke to me again - can't imagine why not.
( Blackdogmanguitar is out with Fat Larry's Jazz Band on, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 11:27, 2 replies)

Spanner in the works...
Again, The regulars will know me as a bloke who enjoys his local pub in Sweden... And ends up chatting to many ladies of an evening.

Some are inane boring nightmares, others are of interest. Every now and then I get the two confused - as you do.

Last night was pub quiz-night, and as usual there is the "beer" questions. Half time true/false things, two correct answers pulled out of the had, two people get beer. Sorted.

Question.. "True of False, Elephants are the only animal that can't jump"....

Duh. Ever seen a jumping jellyfish? Me neither.

Later on we swapped answer sheets with some lovely lasses nearby, and we ended up chatting. They started to prove themselves to be totally daft as the conversation went on, until Per-Ola was making "Let's get out of here" faces at me.

The topic of "Elephant Aerobics" came up, turns out they all thought it was true.... then one lass said "Well, *giggle* I thought about disabled people not being able to jump, but they're not really people, let alone animals"

Per-Ola visibly froze and looked at me... He knows my mum's wheel-chair status... he relaxed when I smiled and said "Really? My mum's in a wheelchair...

3 daft lasses cringing and trying to hide behind pint glasses is great sight. Could have heard a pin drop. We turned back to our table and resumed Guinness consumption.

Anyhoo... That's my standard response to people who degrade the disabled. Jokes I can deal with; Humour should never be punished, but when it's downright offensive ... Make them suffer :)
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Fri 28 Nov 2008, 11:26, Reply)

Well, he is a knob
About a year ago I went on a training course for work. It was a series of 7 or 8 weekly sessions in the evening on a Wednesday. The timing was a bit annoying but it was pretty relaxed and always finished with an hour long workshop and plenty of free booze going around.

About the 4th session we'd started settling into groups and there was one guy I'd been getting on with called Rob (don't actually remember his first name but that'll do) who was less of a media wanker than everyone else. He was a quite posh but like me he resented giving up his Champion's League nights for training and we used to compete to see how many free beers we could smuggle out of the venue.

Then came the magazine task. We were given an hour to come up with a new magazine (concept, title, features etc). There was some debate but eventually we were torn between doing 'Chav Weekly' (my preference) and some upmarket, 'Review' for people in London.

I was very much against this latter idea as it wasn't very original and Chav Weekly was funnier (Knife of the Week feature etc.). Rob, being posh and urbane, was pushing for the Review.

Resolving to end the discussion with a witty yet comprehensive putdown I spent several minutes extolling both the virtues of my idea and the limitations of his. I ended by saying:

"And the only people you'd get reading it would be wanky stuck-up tossers like AA Gill"



"He's my uncle!"



"Oh"



Absolutely no way back from that. He was visibly quite upset.

(I looked on the roster afterwards. There he was - Robert Gill)

The irony is we ended up going with Chav Weekly and won. I got a years free subscription to Empire out of it.
(Milo Minderbinder, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 11:25, 2 replies)

My mum......
is no longer with us after losing out to the Big C but I always have the memory of how she made made me and my sister cringe like a nun watching Roy Chubby Brown. Whenever we went out to the shops and she would see someone she knew she would let out an unbelievable YYYYYYYYooooooooooooooHHHHHHHHHHoooooooooo at the volume of concorde at take off. I swear silence reigned all around us as everyone stopped and stared.

[It is cringeworthy and was also very embarassing!!]
(Studentken is looking for motivation on, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 11:24, Reply)

I'm not very sporty
In fact, up until the age of nearly 30 I was a fat lazy bastard*. I hated PE at school and devised all manner of means to get out of it or at least minimise the pain and effort associated with exercise.

And so it came to pass that teenage K2k6, aged 16 or so, was playing football during games period one Wednesday afternoon, and to my horror I ended up with the ball at one point. So I went to do what I usually did, booting it away before someone came along and challenged me or whatever, when the teacher informed me that I had no need for such urgent action, and that I could actually hang on to the ball for a bit.

He conveyed this message by the footballer's standard means of doing so, which was by yelling at me, "Time, you got time!"

Whereupon I stopped, looked at my watch and replied, "25 past 3, sir".

The game stopped as the other 21 lads on the pitch collapsed in laughter.


*I'm quite thin and fit these days!
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 11:21, 2 replies)

Look before you speak.
"...always fucking asking me to do too much fucking work." The gratuitous swearing highlighted a serious point. His boss is a knob-jockey and doesn't understand that not everyone wants to work every waking hour.

"Only this morning I get another fucking email telling, not asking mind, but telling me to write a report that's going to take a whole cunting day. Fucking cock-end, what am I supposed to do?"

"It's quite simple, Jim" I speculate, "just respond with: Dear [boss's name], why don't you lick my wrinkly love bags."

"Lick your what, Gunther?" Asks the object of Jim's bile, appearing in the doorway just in time to witness my genius solution.

"Um, I, uuuum, it's not... I mean, I didn't... um, the thing is... Ah, Jim has something he wants to say to you..." I sputter as I grab my coffee and make good with my legs through the open door.

I cope well under pressure, I'm sure you'll agree.
( Moey, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 11:21, Reply)

Ve haf kom for your tea.
You'd've thought that the staff common room of a humanities department in a large university'd be a haven for PC liberals, wouldn't you?

Not completely.

Our SCR consists of a large main room with chairs and pigeonholes, and a smaller room leading off it with a sink, fridge, kettle and so on.

I was in there making a cup of tea a couple of months ago at the same time as a couple of our PhD students. They happen to be German. I don't know them well, but we're on nodding terms.

Another person joined us. We're a fairly sizeable department, and I still don't know who he was - academic, PG, admin, permanent, temporary or what. Anyway, he noticed that the little kitchenette was full of Germans, tutted, said, "Was Poland not enough?" and smiled sweetly.

He genuinely thought he'd made a joke.

The three of us just looked aghast.
"Oh," he added. "That'll be the famous German sense of humour, then..."

Nice way to rescue the situation, eh? I can still feel my vertebrae crawling out of my skin when I think about it.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 11:19, Reply)

When I were a lad
I was a talkative sort. You've probably met the kind of child - never shuts up, always chattering on about something or asking lots of inane questions. "Where does the water go when you let it out of the bath?", or "why is the sky blue?" or "where did I come from?". You know the type.

One day, when I must have been around 5 or 6, I was out doing the Friday big shop with my parents at the local Carrefour (and whatever happened to them, I don't hear you ask.) I believe I had wondered off to look at something while my parents waited. My curiosity satisfied I toddled back over to them.

It's difficult to remember what it's like being a kid, but having kids of my own now you do notice that their whole world is knee-height, and they sometimes don't notice things that are going on above their heads.

So, when I reached my parent's trolley I immediately started chattering away like I did, talking about this and that and generally just going on and on. At some point in the monologue I must have suspected something was amiss because I suddenly looked up, expecting to see good old Mum and Dad, and instead saw a youngish guy in his twenties staring wide-eyed at me, obviously thinking "why the fuck is this kid talking to me and what the fuck can I do to get him to go away?".

I looked around and ten feet behind me were my parents doubled up with laughter. I went very, very red and walked stiff legged over to them. I would say that this was my first taste of genuine embarrassment and I still remember the hot flush to my face and the feeling of wanting to run and hide and not be seen.

These days I don't embarrass easily, reasoning that most people really don't give a toss, but for a long while I avoided potentially embarrassing situations because I never wanted to feel that sting again.

Long post, crap story, but it's interesting to me as it set me up for almost a lifetime of avoiding moments like this, sometimes to the detriment of my social life. Sigh.
(MrC. Having the most boring username on b3ta since 2004, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 11:18, Reply)

My dad...
Does this thing where we'll be walking down the street or in a pub, and he'll start humming a tune, or whistling.

Like "bombobommm bombabommmm"

Aaarrgg (covers ears).

I wish the ground would swallow me up when he does that.

(I think it's when he feels socially uncomfortable, so I should sympathise I suppose)
(Strangechap I look normal on the outside..., Fri 28 Nov 2008, 11:13, Reply)

Go Ringo, Go Ringo
I am fortunate enough to work in an office with a raft of very attractive women.

I am unfortunate enough to often find myself a bit flustered when talking to women that I find attractive.

Work is a minefield.

I was recently discussing a project that I was working on for a stunning blonde. She’s a sweet as anything, a lovely, lovely person. But for some reason, she intimidates me. I get tongue tied and cold sweaty when I talk to her.

She was, actually, thanking me for getting something done for her, saying that the press had picked up on it and it was getting lots of good publicity.

Instead of graciously accepting her thanks in a calm and adult manner, for some reason that I still don’t understand…

...loudly and obviously enough for the people I sit with to notice and merciless rip the piss out of me for the rest of the afternoon

I raised both thumbs aloft and said

‘Faaaaab’

What a cunt.
( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 11:09, 5 replies)