Cunning Plans
I once devised a totally foolproof cunning plan to attract the attention of bikini-clad women, which - as you might imagine - failed miserably. Ever come up with a cunning plan for something? Did it work? What went wrong? Do you look back through the filter of the years with a burning sense of shame?
Suggested by Ring of Fire
( , Thu 5 Jul 2012, 11:57)
I once devised a totally foolproof cunning plan to attract the attention of bikini-clad women, which - as you might imagine - failed miserably. Ever come up with a cunning plan for something? Did it work? What went wrong? Do you look back through the filter of the years with a burning sense of shame?
Suggested by Ring of Fire
( , Thu 5 Jul 2012, 11:57)
This question is now closed.
1. Steal stuff
2. Sell it.
3. Profit!
Well it worked for the bankers!!!!! LOL!!!!!
( , Thu 12 Jul 2012, 10:46, Reply)
2. Sell it.
3. Profit!
Well it worked for the bankers!!!!! LOL!!!!!
( , Thu 12 Jul 2012, 10:46, Reply)
I will run local campaigns to get the BNP into parliament
Then when they get elected they will deport foreigners like myself, and I wont pay a dime. I will never see another chav again, earn twice what I do here, and never again have to put up with handymen arriving "some time between noon and six".
( , Thu 12 Jul 2012, 8:04, 43 replies)
Then when they get elected they will deport foreigners like myself, and I wont pay a dime. I will never see another chav again, earn twice what I do here, and never again have to put up with handymen arriving "some time between noon and six".
( , Thu 12 Jul 2012, 8:04, 43 replies)
Go on, then.
Next time a bunch of overpaid, incompetent wankers (bankers, local council chief executives, right-wing entertainers, I'm looking at you) tell us they'll leave the country if we cease to lavish them with public money and affection, I suggest we all agree just to smile quietly at them and say nothing.
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 22:39, 2 replies)
Next time a bunch of overpaid, incompetent wankers (bankers, local council chief executives, right-wing entertainers, I'm looking at you) tell us they'll leave the country if we cease to lavish them with public money and affection, I suggest we all agree just to smile quietly at them and say nothing.
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 22:39, 2 replies)
Instafruitonline
I have a plan to install a computer-targeted, hydraulic fruit-launching catapault on the top of BT tower in central London.
You could go online, put in your postcode then purchase the fruit of your choice. My fruit-launching catapault would calibrate your co-ordinates and deliver fresh fruit right to your doorstep in under 15 seconds of clicking the submit button, anywhere in central London. There's no way the big chains like Tesco could compete with our rapid customer service.
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 22:15, 5 replies)
I have a plan to install a computer-targeted, hydraulic fruit-launching catapault on the top of BT tower in central London.
You could go online, put in your postcode then purchase the fruit of your choice. My fruit-launching catapault would calibrate your co-ordinates and deliver fresh fruit right to your doorstep in under 15 seconds of clicking the submit button, anywhere in central London. There's no way the big chains like Tesco could compete with our rapid customer service.
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 22:15, 5 replies)
having a t-shirt printed..
with a text which would look as if it was written in sperm saying -
I'm In Love :)
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 21:52, 1 reply)
with a text which would look as if it was written in sperm saying -
I'm In Love :)
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 21:52, 1 reply)
Worked every time
1/ Purchase vanilla milkshake from leading burger chain
2/ Consume half of the milkshake
3/ Push a large volume of napkins into the bottom of the milkshake until it appears 'full'
4/ Take milkshake back to the counter claiming you asked for banana and got vanilla instead
5/ Receive full banana milkshake
Genius!
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 17:27, 9 replies)
1/ Purchase vanilla milkshake from leading burger chain
2/ Consume half of the milkshake
3/ Push a large volume of napkins into the bottom of the milkshake until it appears 'full'
4/ Take milkshake back to the counter claiming you asked for banana and got vanilla instead
5/ Receive full banana milkshake
Genius!
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 17:27, 9 replies)
Proper Cunning.
If only I could get off my butt and do something with these ideas, I'd surely be richer than Sugar. Or possibly slumped in a doorway, craving an entirely different white crystaline substance.
Anyway, I claim 'I thought of it first' rights on these awesome ideas:
1) Atheist burials. This idea is from a while back, but back then, they certainly didn't have any company offering alternative/atheistic burials in Bournemouth. You had dig out some holy guy who barely even knew the sadly deceased - at vast expensive - to say some generic fill-in-the-blanks words in a (frankly) embarassed fashion, while we all sat and craved ham rolls.
If you knew the newly deceased would rather die than be sent off by a priest (yeah, I know, haha) then it cheapens the whole ceremony. And what is a funeral but ceremonial closure for the living, after all?
If I could operate out of a populous enough area, I'd reckon there would be a decent turnover for the altenative burial scene. I suspect I've been beaten to it on this one, though. Pity I was too young to go for it.
2) Tinted hair gel. At last, a product to subtly dye while it styles, covering up that hint of grey and promoting firm hold!
I think this would have a good sell amongst those vile twits who feel the need to daily splurge their heads with gel; you know, the ones who have combed it back so ruthlessly you can see their greasy scalps. That kind of twit would surely be vain and stupid enough to buy hair-gel with a bit of food-dye in it, no?
3) Turn erotic slash fiction into a best-seller. Well, its making E L James rich: I'd find a couple of longish slash fiction stories on the net, change the names and pad them out with any other old slash fiction I could find, and sell it as a book. Some frustrated fat teen from Croydon is hardly going to claim copyright infringement over their porno writing. Profit!
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 16:51, 3 replies)
If only I could get off my butt and do something with these ideas, I'd surely be richer than Sugar. Or possibly slumped in a doorway, craving an entirely different white crystaline substance.
Anyway, I claim 'I thought of it first' rights on these awesome ideas:
1) Atheist burials. This idea is from a while back, but back then, they certainly didn't have any company offering alternative/atheistic burials in Bournemouth. You had dig out some holy guy who barely even knew the sadly deceased - at vast expensive - to say some generic fill-in-the-blanks words in a (frankly) embarassed fashion, while we all sat and craved ham rolls.
If you knew the newly deceased would rather die than be sent off by a priest (yeah, I know, haha) then it cheapens the whole ceremony. And what is a funeral but ceremonial closure for the living, after all?
If I could operate out of a populous enough area, I'd reckon there would be a decent turnover for the altenative burial scene. I suspect I've been beaten to it on this one, though. Pity I was too young to go for it.
2) Tinted hair gel. At last, a product to subtly dye while it styles, covering up that hint of grey and promoting firm hold!
I think this would have a good sell amongst those vile twits who feel the need to daily splurge their heads with gel; you know, the ones who have combed it back so ruthlessly you can see their greasy scalps. That kind of twit would surely be vain and stupid enough to buy hair-gel with a bit of food-dye in it, no?
3) Turn erotic slash fiction into a best-seller. Well, its making E L James rich: I'd find a couple of longish slash fiction stories on the net, change the names and pad them out with any other old slash fiction I could find, and sell it as a book. Some frustrated fat teen from Croydon is hardly going to claim copyright infringement over their porno writing. Profit!
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 16:51, 3 replies)
Considering that the FSA, SFO et al are completely fucking toothless...
I know we've all been affected by the recent financial crisis to some degree, and also upset by the shennanigans that they have been undertaking to line their own pockets at the expense of us (and, due to referring to B3tan's, must admit to typing these next words whilst whincing with mild discomfort..) ordinary folk.
My plan unfortunately will require having the vast majority of the nation onside regarding the execution of the scheme and I can also imagine the outcome being somewhat of a shitstorm, but it will remind the financial sector precisely who's in charge.
Everyone in the country should have accounts with at least four banks, these need to be the absolute basic facility accounts and completely free of charge. They conduct their financial affairs as they do on a day to day basis and completely in line with their needs.
This continues until someone fucks up, such as Barclays have done recently, or RBS have done before. The moment this happens, the country needs to strip all funds that are present in that particular bank and move them to any of their other accounts. I won't list all of the effects because mainly I can't possibly imagine how far reaching those consequences would be. To summarise however, those with a vested interest in making money through dodgy means will certainly receive a much more meaningful punishment than the current government method, which seems to involve fining them the equivalent of a mediochre proportion of their ill gotten gains. The reward most certainly wouldn't be worth the risk this way and they know that we can pull the trigger at any time we like.
I can absolutely guarantee after this happens two or three times (quite possibly having also taking out a major financial institution or two in the process) they'll understand precisely who is in charge and be a hell of a lot more socially minded. Just like in Mary Poppins!
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 16:35, Reply)
I know we've all been affected by the recent financial crisis to some degree, and also upset by the shennanigans that they have been undertaking to line their own pockets at the expense of us (and, due to referring to B3tan's, must admit to typing these next words whilst whincing with mild discomfort..) ordinary folk.
My plan unfortunately will require having the vast majority of the nation onside regarding the execution of the scheme and I can also imagine the outcome being somewhat of a shitstorm, but it will remind the financial sector precisely who's in charge.
Everyone in the country should have accounts with at least four banks, these need to be the absolute basic facility accounts and completely free of charge. They conduct their financial affairs as they do on a day to day basis and completely in line with their needs.
This continues until someone fucks up, such as Barclays have done recently, or RBS have done before. The moment this happens, the country needs to strip all funds that are present in that particular bank and move them to any of their other accounts. I won't list all of the effects because mainly I can't possibly imagine how far reaching those consequences would be. To summarise however, those with a vested interest in making money through dodgy means will certainly receive a much more meaningful punishment than the current government method, which seems to involve fining them the equivalent of a mediochre proportion of their ill gotten gains. The reward most certainly wouldn't be worth the risk this way and they know that we can pull the trigger at any time we like.
I can absolutely guarantee after this happens two or three times (quite possibly having also taking out a major financial institution or two in the process) they'll understand precisely who is in charge and be a hell of a lot more socially minded. Just like in Mary Poppins!
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 16:35, Reply)
Shoplifting masterplan!
1. Steal power pack for Grandstand electronic game.
2. Use it.
3. Return to store for refund on `free` item.
4. Get caught because they figured this out.
5. Bring shame to family.
True story, hey don't judge me it was the 80's.
;)
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 16:04, Reply)
1. Steal power pack for Grandstand electronic game.
2. Use it.
3. Return to store for refund on `free` item.
4. Get caught because they figured this out.
5. Bring shame to family.
True story, hey don't judge me it was the 80's.
;)
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 16:04, Reply)
Dammit
Like a lot of fellow B3tans I work in a job that I hate. I work in the creative department for a pretty well known agency that was at one time the best in its field (Will not name it on here as I know a few of the higher ups definitely check up on this sort of thing). Few years back we had a bit of an internal dispute, seriously it looked like there was going to be an internal takeover but that never happened. After the restructure I was labeled as one that would be likely to back the losing team (despite being one of the bystanders that did sod all) and was demoted into a position I hate immensely, seriously the place I’m at hasn’t got any air conditioning installed and that’s not what you need when you are a guy like me (Yes I know man the hell up etc etc).
After a brief period of time I decided that I wanted out but this place has a pretty nasty policy of making sure you have virtually no chance of doing anything in the same industry should you leave. I wanted to get out and thankfully I saw a way that may help. I contacted two guys who were ex employees and therefore were looking for a way back into the industry and using my persuasive skills managed to get them to find a way to easily reapply and successfully attain jobs at our firm and therefore ruin the bosses hiring and firing policy- hopefully showing anyone else out there that they shouldn’t take our companies word as gospel.
Naturally I didn’t want to be the caught anywhere near the two when this whole thing went off so sent them the info anonymously and spoke to them about keeping it under their hats when I did see them in passing (I mentioned that I had heard something about it from some of the lads at work when they asked me about how I knew of it).
Everything seemed to be going ok, the only thing I didn’t realise was that I underestimated the people that didn’t like me and I got my ass handed to me by that fat git with a blessed golf club. I blame the fact that I was concentrating on the stripper with no genitals that looked like Salma Hayek. She was a cow, hot but still a cow.
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 15:18, 9 replies)
Like a lot of fellow B3tans I work in a job that I hate. I work in the creative department for a pretty well known agency that was at one time the best in its field (Will not name it on here as I know a few of the higher ups definitely check up on this sort of thing). Few years back we had a bit of an internal dispute, seriously it looked like there was going to be an internal takeover but that never happened. After the restructure I was labeled as one that would be likely to back the losing team (despite being one of the bystanders that did sod all) and was demoted into a position I hate immensely, seriously the place I’m at hasn’t got any air conditioning installed and that’s not what you need when you are a guy like me (Yes I know man the hell up etc etc).
After a brief period of time I decided that I wanted out but this place has a pretty nasty policy of making sure you have virtually no chance of doing anything in the same industry should you leave. I wanted to get out and thankfully I saw a way that may help. I contacted two guys who were ex employees and therefore were looking for a way back into the industry and using my persuasive skills managed to get them to find a way to easily reapply and successfully attain jobs at our firm and therefore ruin the bosses hiring and firing policy- hopefully showing anyone else out there that they shouldn’t take our companies word as gospel.
Naturally I didn’t want to be the caught anywhere near the two when this whole thing went off so sent them the info anonymously and spoke to them about keeping it under their hats when I did see them in passing (I mentioned that I had heard something about it from some of the lads at work when they asked me about how I knew of it).
Everything seemed to be going ok, the only thing I didn’t realise was that I underestimated the people that didn’t like me and I got my ass handed to me by that fat git with a blessed golf club. I blame the fact that I was concentrating on the stripper with no genitals that looked like Salma Hayek. She was a cow, hot but still a cow.
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 15:18, 9 replies)
I had planned to simply walk into Mordor.
Turns out, they have a really good Park & Ride service. Which was nice.
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 14:57, 10 replies)
Turns out, they have a really good Park & Ride service. Which was nice.
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 14:57, 10 replies)
Book Plan
I had a plan to write a story about a bloke who was caught doing some sort of crime and as punishment was put in complete isolation in a small stone-walled cell. All that’s in the cell is a big barrel of drinking water in one corner and a bucket in another for use as a makeshift toilet.
Once he is put in the cell the criminal is made to swallow the small key to his cell door and given a bag filled with bread, the door then slams shut and he’s left in the cell until he passes the key and can let himself out.
Eventually, after a lonely day or two of nothing but bread, water and sleeping on the cold floor he shits the key out into the bucket, which he then has to rummage through to retrieve the key.
As the keys details are clogged with shit, the criminal washes the key and his turd smeared hands in his barrel of drinking water and then goes to let himself out - only to find the key isn’t the correct one for the lock on the cell door.
The criminal then has to eat stale bread and drink his own shitty water until he is either let out or dies.
The problems with this story plan are as obvious as they are numerous.
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 14:30, 1 reply)
I had a plan to write a story about a bloke who was caught doing some sort of crime and as punishment was put in complete isolation in a small stone-walled cell. All that’s in the cell is a big barrel of drinking water in one corner and a bucket in another for use as a makeshift toilet.
Once he is put in the cell the criminal is made to swallow the small key to his cell door and given a bag filled with bread, the door then slams shut and he’s left in the cell until he passes the key and can let himself out.
Eventually, after a lonely day or two of nothing but bread, water and sleeping on the cold floor he shits the key out into the bucket, which he then has to rummage through to retrieve the key.
As the keys details are clogged with shit, the criminal washes the key and his turd smeared hands in his barrel of drinking water and then goes to let himself out - only to find the key isn’t the correct one for the lock on the cell door.
The criminal then has to eat stale bread and drink his own shitty water until he is either let out or dies.
The problems with this story plan are as obvious as they are numerous.
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 14:30, 1 reply)
When
I was a child I found a lot of money lying around the house in a box at home. There was so much money there that I thought nobody would miss one of the crisp twenties that festooned this vessel, so I took one and ran out of the house……This was 1982, so £20 seemed like a fortune in those days, especially as a six year old. Now how to spend my new found wealth….hmm I have a cunning plan I thought, I’ll go to the shops at the top of the road and spend it all on sweets. In reality this was a terrible idea but I didn’t let logic get in the way of this genius plan. So I put on my boots and hat, grabbed my pet dog and made the short journey to the nearest shop.
The shop at the top of the hill I lived on was a big red building and on entering I was greeted by the shopkeeper who looked a bit taken a back at how young I was, never the less he asked how he could help. I asked the shopkeeper for twenty quids worth of cough candy and other different assortments of sugary goodness. He looked a little concerned that one so young had twenty pounds in the first place and enquired whether I had the money to pay for all this stuff. Quick as a flash I proudly whipped at the crisp twenty and placed it on the counter, rather than accept the note he slowly walked up to the phone and this is what he said –
‘Is that Mr. Arrow, great because your son has raided your monopoly set again, could you come and pick him up please!?’
Old man wasn’t best pleased, didn’t get to pass go, didn’t collect 200 pounds and went straight to jail/bed. :(
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 13:41, 8 replies)
I was a child I found a lot of money lying around the house in a box at home. There was so much money there that I thought nobody would miss one of the crisp twenties that festooned this vessel, so I took one and ran out of the house……This was 1982, so £20 seemed like a fortune in those days, especially as a six year old. Now how to spend my new found wealth….hmm I have a cunning plan I thought, I’ll go to the shops at the top of the road and spend it all on sweets. In reality this was a terrible idea but I didn’t let logic get in the way of this genius plan. So I put on my boots and hat, grabbed my pet dog and made the short journey to the nearest shop.
The shop at the top of the hill I lived on was a big red building and on entering I was greeted by the shopkeeper who looked a bit taken a back at how young I was, never the less he asked how he could help. I asked the shopkeeper for twenty quids worth of cough candy and other different assortments of sugary goodness. He looked a little concerned that one so young had twenty pounds in the first place and enquired whether I had the money to pay for all this stuff. Quick as a flash I proudly whipped at the crisp twenty and placed it on the counter, rather than accept the note he slowly walked up to the phone and this is what he said –
‘Is that Mr. Arrow, great because your son has raided your monopoly set again, could you come and pick him up please!?’
Old man wasn’t best pleased, didn’t get to pass go, didn’t collect 200 pounds and went straight to jail/bed. :(
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 13:41, 8 replies)
Flavoured juice...
Gentleman juice, that is.
I had an entertaining conversation with my g/f and one of her mates regarding the taste of a certain fluid that had recently been exchanged. G/f observed that when I'd had a full English with lots of bacon, she could tell because it was saltier than usual, and when I'd been eaten pineapples she could also tell because it had a flavour she could recognise but not describe and which I had no intention of finding out about first hand.
Her mate then observed that if I could find some way of making it taste like Bacardi and coke, she for one would be more than willing to arrange it so that I'd walking round with wobbly knees all day, every day. (G/f was somewhat put out by this, but given that I couldn't find any way of making it taste like Bacardi and coke and probably never would, it seemed reasonably safe).
Conversation moved on to the fact that not all women like Bacardi and coke, so whatever method you used to affect the flavour would need to be available in different varieties (vodka and orange, Diamond white and Malibu were all mentioned, just to give you an idea of the level of lady we're on about (I'm from an age before Bacardi Breezers, can you tell?)). I suggested that whatever it was - a drink, a foodstuff or even an injection - that achieved this effect could be sold with a sticker or badge that you could wear advertising to your targets what flavour you were packing.
It's a couple of decades on from that conversation now, and I'm disappointed that the medical profession has so far apparently been wasting its time sequencing the human genome, developing anti-retroviral drugs to control the spread of AIDS and researching cancer, and STILL hasn't come up with a way to produce flavoured spunk that women actively want to swallow. Wasters.
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 8:57, 19 replies)
Gentleman juice, that is.
I had an entertaining conversation with my g/f and one of her mates regarding the taste of a certain fluid that had recently been exchanged. G/f observed that when I'd had a full English with lots of bacon, she could tell because it was saltier than usual, and when I'd been eaten pineapples she could also tell because it had a flavour she could recognise but not describe and which I had no intention of finding out about first hand.
Her mate then observed that if I could find some way of making it taste like Bacardi and coke, she for one would be more than willing to arrange it so that I'd walking round with wobbly knees all day, every day. (G/f was somewhat put out by this, but given that I couldn't find any way of making it taste like Bacardi and coke and probably never would, it seemed reasonably safe).
Conversation moved on to the fact that not all women like Bacardi and coke, so whatever method you used to affect the flavour would need to be available in different varieties (vodka and orange, Diamond white and Malibu were all mentioned, just to give you an idea of the level of lady we're on about (I'm from an age before Bacardi Breezers, can you tell?)). I suggested that whatever it was - a drink, a foodstuff or even an injection - that achieved this effect could be sold with a sticker or badge that you could wear advertising to your targets what flavour you were packing.
It's a couple of decades on from that conversation now, and I'm disappointed that the medical profession has so far apparently been wasting its time sequencing the human genome, developing anti-retroviral drugs to control the spread of AIDS and researching cancer, and STILL hasn't come up with a way to produce flavoured spunk that women actively want to swallow. Wasters.
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 8:57, 19 replies)
I had this idea a while ago
and put it on the internet.
Unfortunately I didn't put my name on it, and so it gets reposted around and I don't get the credit :(
(click the picture for a bigger version)
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 8:05, 7 replies)
and put it on the internet.
Unfortunately I didn't put my name on it, and so it gets reposted around and I don't get the credit :(
(click the picture for a bigger version)
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 8:05, 7 replies)
A friend of mine...
once shared a house with a Dutchman who was in Sydney studying some fairly intensive branch of cancer research. While he was here, he discovered, and became slightly addicted to, potato wedges with sour cream and sweet chilli sauce, saying that nobody made them back in Holland. He hatched a plan.
Step One: Study very hard and discover the final cure for cancer.
Step Two: Patent the creation.
Step Three: Open a potato wedges empire, in Holland, selling wedges secretly laced with cancer causing chemicals.
Step Four: Retire for good...
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 8:02, Reply)
once shared a house with a Dutchman who was in Sydney studying some fairly intensive branch of cancer research. While he was here, he discovered, and became slightly addicted to, potato wedges with sour cream and sweet chilli sauce, saying that nobody made them back in Holland. He hatched a plan.
Step One: Study very hard and discover the final cure for cancer.
Step Two: Patent the creation.
Step Three: Open a potato wedges empire, in Holland, selling wedges secretly laced with cancer causing chemicals.
Step Four: Retire for good...
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 8:02, Reply)
A cunning plan
I had a cunning plan.
Step 1: set up a premium rate phone line. Have a recording on the end with a bit of hold music, some platitudes about how you're in a queue and to please hold on we'll get to you in just a minute, and some more music etc., designed to keep the caller on hold for as long as possible.
Step 2: buy a van.
Step 3: across the back of the van, plaster a sign saying "How's my driving?", and under that, the phone number of the premium rate line.
Step 4: drive around like a complete twunt.
Step 5: Profit!
I considered this plan to be genius, and shared it with a few friends on an internet message board.
Unfortunately, a year or three after I'd posted this idea online, someone else had a cunning plan, which went like this:
1. Copy my idea almost word for word.
2. Send it in to Dave Gorman's Radio 4 comedy show "Genius".
3. Get invited to be on the radio describing MY idea to my favourite comedian. Bastard.
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 7:16, 8 replies)
I had a cunning plan.
Step 1: set up a premium rate phone line. Have a recording on the end with a bit of hold music, some platitudes about how you're in a queue and to please hold on we'll get to you in just a minute, and some more music etc., designed to keep the caller on hold for as long as possible.
Step 2: buy a van.
Step 3: across the back of the van, plaster a sign saying "How's my driving?", and under that, the phone number of the premium rate line.
Step 4: drive around like a complete twunt.
Step 5: Profit!
I considered this plan to be genius, and shared it with a few friends on an internet message board.
Unfortunately, a year or three after I'd posted this idea online, someone else had a cunning plan, which went like this:
1. Copy my idea almost word for word.
2. Send it in to Dave Gorman's Radio 4 comedy show "Genius".
3. Get invited to be on the radio describing MY idea to my favourite comedian. Bastard.
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 7:16, 8 replies)
I had a hankering for some chocolate
The shops were closed and the only chocolate in the flat was the Kit Kat i had baited the mouse trap with.
My plan was simple to carefully remove the tasty treat without setting off the trap.
I moved my hand slowley and cautiously over the trap not daring to breathe.
I then pinched the Peice of kit kat between my fingers and quickly snapped them back.
I had suceeded and held aloft in a victorious gesture, reminiscent of Zelda .
I then dropped it and in my haste fumbled to catch it before taking a step forward for balance, which of course meant I stood in the mouse trap.
Didn't bleed but it left one hell of a red mark.
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 4:00, 2 replies)
The shops were closed and the only chocolate in the flat was the Kit Kat i had baited the mouse trap with.
My plan was simple to carefully remove the tasty treat without setting off the trap.
I moved my hand slowley and cautiously over the trap not daring to breathe.
I then pinched the Peice of kit kat between my fingers and quickly snapped them back.
I had suceeded and held aloft in a victorious gesture, reminiscent of Zelda .
I then dropped it and in my haste fumbled to catch it before taking a step forward for balance, which of course meant I stood in the mouse trap.
Didn't bleed but it left one hell of a red mark.
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 4:00, 2 replies)
Casino
Play the thirds. Bet e.g. 5 quid on two of the three thirds (1-12, 13-24,25-36). You get 2-1 plus winning stake back. Therefore, you have a 2/3 chance of going from 10 pounds to 15 pounds.
I trained as a croupier, which means lots of taking turns playing roulette while others dealt, and I found this the only GUARANTEED* winner.
*not guaranteed
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 3:57, 9 replies)
Play the thirds. Bet e.g. 5 quid on two of the three thirds (1-12, 13-24,25-36). You get 2-1 plus winning stake back. Therefore, you have a 2/3 chance of going from 10 pounds to 15 pounds.
I trained as a croupier, which means lots of taking turns playing roulette while others dealt, and I found this the only GUARANTEED* winner.
*not guaranteed
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 3:57, 9 replies)
Cunning Plan from the mists of time
This morning I woke thinking about the 'virgin sacrifice' thing, which was odd.
Then I realised that it was B3TA's fault.
Let's face it, the whole 'God will be pleased' is a stretch.
*But*, stuck in the middle of a jungle, 1000 miles/years away from a TV/Beer/Internet connection, what do men spend much of their time thinking about?
Ah-ha - what if some ancient tribe of ugly spuds came up with this as a chat-up?
"Did you know we sacrifice virgins around here"?
"Are you a virgin"?... "You LOOK like a virgin"...
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 0:37, 1 reply)
This morning I woke thinking about the 'virgin sacrifice' thing, which was odd.
Then I realised that it was B3TA's fault.
Let's face it, the whole 'God will be pleased' is a stretch.
*But*, stuck in the middle of a jungle, 1000 miles/years away from a TV/Beer/Internet connection, what do men spend much of their time thinking about?
Ah-ha - what if some ancient tribe of ugly spuds came up with this as a chat-up?
"Did you know we sacrifice virgins around here"?
"Are you a virgin"?... "You LOOK like a virgin"...
( , Wed 11 Jul 2012, 0:37, 1 reply)
Recently I came up with this cruel 'prank'
You take a spoon and a sharpening stone and sharpen the upward curving edges of the spoon. Make soup. Watch how someone cuts their lips off.
( , Tue 10 Jul 2012, 21:22, 5 replies)
You take a spoon and a sharpening stone and sharpen the upward curving edges of the spoon. Make soup. Watch how someone cuts their lips off.
( , Tue 10 Jul 2012, 21:22, 5 replies)
I had a simple plan to annexe the sudetenland and create some lebenstraum for my people in the east
It didn't work out due to factors beyond my control, but plans are afoot to give it another try. I have the right people in place, the organisation and the iron will to succeed. But this time, no more Mr Nice Guy!
( , Tue 10 Jul 2012, 20:59, 3 replies)
It didn't work out due to factors beyond my control, but plans are afoot to give it another try. I have the right people in place, the organisation and the iron will to succeed. But this time, no more Mr Nice Guy!
( , Tue 10 Jul 2012, 20:59, 3 replies)
I once attempted to stop my friend being ejected from a pub
by telling the staff that he wasn't droolingly collapsingly drunk but rather that he had severe cerebral palsy.
( , Tue 10 Jul 2012, 18:52, 7 replies)
by telling the staff that he wasn't droolingly collapsingly drunk but rather that he had severe cerebral palsy.
( , Tue 10 Jul 2012, 18:52, 7 replies)
This question is now closed.