My Biggest DisappointmentOften the things we look forward to the most turn out to be a huge let down. As Freddy Woo puts it, "High heels in bed? No fun at all. Porn has a lot to answer for."
Well, Freddy, you are supposed to get someone else to wear them.
What's disappointed you lot?
null points for 'This QOTW'
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chthonic, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 14:15)
This question is now closed.
my most recent disappointment is thatsome cunt just made me lose the Game.
It's been at least 6 months since that happened.
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Vipros. clever got me this far, then tricky got me in, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 8:47,
17 replies)
Bindun?Watcing 'Wife Swap' for the first time and realising that it actually involved spouses of the female variety going off to live with another family for a short time.
At the time I should have realised that a TV programme with wife swapping as the central premise wasa a bit too racy even for Channel 4.
(, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 8:40, Reply)
The Atomium in BrusselsIt's shit! End of!
It's not a tourist attraction, it's not "quite cool". There's nothing there! It's just ball-shaped rooms joined by escalators.
another dissapointment, while im talking about Brussels: The red light district... Get 'em out love.
(, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 8:38, 2 replies)
UK Garbage disappointment.www.nytimes.com/2008/06/27/world/europe/27garbage.html?_r=1&hp=&pagewanted=all
I'd have to say this story disappointed me a great deal.
Potentially installing microchips in your wheelie bins to measure the amount of garbage?
Will the city council be weighing your poos next to make sure you're eating properly and not too much?
Dear lord.
Sometimes a written constitution with specifically enumerated rights to prevent this sort of nonsense is a good thing.
Honestly, aren't you all on a little tiny island? Surely there could be some decent landfill/terraforming opportunities to make the place a little more spacious, rather than putting up with that sort of nonsense.
(, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 5:37, 4 replies)
OK, serious timeMy mum died when I was 21. That's 16 years ago, folks. And it's still a bit of a headfuck. And it disappoints me in varying degrees.
1: She never saw any of her children get married. My sister was engaged when she was ill, but she never made it to her wedding.
2: She never saw me get married the first time around. I did a eulogy and got everyone in the room to stand up and toast her. My exact words, after thanking the bridesmaids, and my best man (Sean, where the fuck are you?), and everyone for coming, were, "And raise your glasses to the one person who should be here, but isn't".
Not a dry eye in the house.
3: Never saw her grandchildren. She would have loved that.
4: Wasn't around to pick up the pieces after my sister's, and then my, marriages, went to fuck. Having gone through it herself I'm certain she could have offered some sage advice (but not in the vein of 'if I were you...')
5: Being able to cunt my brother's ex in the fuck.
6: Seeing how happy I am right now.
7: Seeing how well we have all turned out.
8: Being able to poke her doctor in the eye and say 'it's OK, it's just an infection'.
9: Just not being here, really.
Mum, I miss you.
Lots.
And that's not the Ouzo talking either
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Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Fri 27 Jun 2008, 2:49,
19 replies)
Selling; specifically: selling on eBay.Pre-appologies for length.
My story starts off with me building, or rather collecting, my own drum kit.
I buy the drums seperately because it's cheaper that way and easier to get what you want.
I go about collecting myself a monster kit. Nine drums in total (the usual is 5 or even 4)
I am very impressed with this drum kit, however it's not of the best quality and I find myself not using all I bought frequently enough.
So I decide I want a new, better drum kit.
I go browsing to make sure I know exactly what I want, checking out different makes and models; and I set my sights on a beauty (in my eyes).
Then good old procrastination sets in and long-sub-story-short: I end up waiting half a year before I finally get about selling.
For starters I put an ad in the local Trade-it - I didn't expect much response here, but it was worth the price: zilch.
Low and behold after my ad had had it's turn in the paper I got zero response. Nothing for nothing; seems fair enough I suppose.
So now I have a change of plan: eBay! That wonderous site which sells thousands of items for thousands of pounds a day. How could I loose?
I start to design my auction page. I have massive ammounts of details and pictures, I double check and then triple check everything to make sure it's perfect before the pre-arranged start so that it'll sell peak time on a Sunday evening.
The auction starts and within hours I have my first 50 visits and my first watcher! Wonderful methinks to myself! A watcher is more likely to buy than a regular visiter right?
However, after 100 visits, nothing much seemed to be happening... This just built up tension towards the final end.
Within the last couple of days my visit counter had shot up to 200! Then 250! Then 300!
I had accumulated 3 watchers, which I thought was pretty good.
I found myself checking the auction more and more frequently just in case I had another watcher or if I had achieved a bid.
I found myself counting from days to hours to minutes before it ended. Still nothing - but only smart people bid at the end of the auction anyway.
Minutes left and still nothing.
Then just a single minute.
Then just seconds.
Only one second left - jeeze these people are leaving it tight!
One hit of F5 and...
Drat.
Time passes me by and I decide to prick up that last shimmer of hope and enter an ad into the trade-it again. As if to hit my hopes with an anvil, only to have it only just stand again and then hit it with a hammer the ad closed with nothing.
I'll keep trying, though. Someone will want it. Afterall, I did.
*runs off to put an ad in trade-it*
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xihpete A neutrino walks straight through a bar, with v>c., Fri 27 Jun 2008, 2:26,
3 replies)
Superhero!Yep that's me. Except it isn't.
Wanderlust's earlier post and a reply I gave has encouraged me to expand...
I was a geeky kid. Not many friends, withdrawn, and with a propensity to live in my own little bubble. My escape mechanisms were Marvel and DC comics. Off to the newsagent every week, to pay 12p for some glossy, escapist fantasy. Superman, Spider-Man, Batman, Hulk, Captain America, Justice League, Avengers... Oh, yeeeeeeah.
I'd devour the lot and wonder what it would be like to have amazing powers and cunt my enemies in the fuck...
Movies and TV series featuring these characters were lapped up whenever possible. The Captain America TV movie was crap, the Incredible Hulk TV series was must see viewing, I stayed up late to watch Dr Strange - and it was strange, to say the least. Batman was unknowingly camp at the time...
But the movies... When Superman came out I was hyper. My gran took me to see it and I was hooked. It all seemed so believable. You'll believe a man can fly? God, yeah... I went into the manager's office after the film and came out with a promo poster, which stayed on my bedroom wall for years.
Therein started my disappointment. These people were doing stuff on the telly and in the cinema that looked effortless. Flying? Pah - easy. Holding a bridge up? Piece of piss. Making the words 'Kapow' and 'Biff' fly out of my gloved fist? No bother...
Now to put it into practice...
Oh...
I came out of seeing Superman the Movie and being convinced that I could run really fucking fast (not fly, cos that's patently ridiculous)... Not as fast, as it transpired, as a Robin Reliant.
Same with the god-awful Spider-Man TV series in the seventies. They edited episodes together and released them as movies in UK cinemas. My wall-crawling ability resembled me trying to dry-hump various brick walls in Berwick upon Tweed.
I don't turn green when I get angry either. However I have popped the buttons on my boxers once or twice as a result of getting bigger...
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Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Fri 27 Jun 2008, 2:08,
12 replies)
My kidsWill be disappointed when they realise i'm there real dad.
(, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 2:00, 1 reply)
Rio De JaneiroMy g/f took me there for my 40th - for two weeks. This was a week too long.
Once you've done the beach, seen a football game, The Jesus and Sugar-loaf Mountain, it gets pretty boring very quickly. The museums, galleries and nightclubs (lots of which are full of prostitutes) are crap. No samba to speak of most of the year.
The Air France flights were the worst I've been on and we had the rudest Italian in the world behind us for a good 11 hours on the way back - think Austin Power's Fat Barsteward in both looks and behaviour.
And when it rains?, Well, my g/f put it best: "It's like Blackpool minus the amusements!".
Still, at least I didn't get mugged or robbed, but the pathetic attempts to scam us wore pretty thin.
Holiday of a lifetime, it was supposed to be . . .
(, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 1:16, 2 replies)
BirthIf anyone says its a magical experience, they were lying or not there..
(, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 0:17, 1 reply)
Bill BaileyTinsleworm Tour, 2007.
That is all
....ok should add more I guess. Basically from the top of my head I can only remember two decent leagnth funny songs, one of which was the Love Song from his older DVD as an encore. The other was his emo one.
The rest was bog-standard stand-up...something he is not actually that good at!
(, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 0:09, 6 replies)
the british "summer" 2007..and 2008 the way things are going
bindun? surely bindun in the minds of every british in the land.
(, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 23:46, 5 replies)
Sex on a beachGreat in theory. But getting rid of the sand for hours afterwards can be a real pain in the arse, no pun intended.
(, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 22:56, 5 replies)
RollerballThe original of this film captivated me as a child. The melding of classical music with ultra-violence, the visuals (except the 'super' computer - that was crap) and the plot. I mean who would have thought that someone could come up with an idea like corporations taking over the world and distracting the population with pageantry - it could never happen.
So when I heard there was to be a remake I couldn't wait. Now some remakes are shit but surely the great Jean Reno wouldn't be in something that wasn't worth it. Besides, it was such a great film it couldn't be bad could it?
It could, oh my god it could. I've never seen such a steaming pile of poo in my life. How can the film be set in the present? Why does LL Cool J think he can act? And how in the name of all that's holy could they have made Rebecca Romijn Stamos unsexy? That's two hours of my life I want back please.
(, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 22:25, 4 replies)
My love life.is like something out of Some Mothers Do Have Em.
I had naively assumed, during my awkward teenage years, that when I got older things would be better.
Thank you god, you bastard, for mocking me so.
(, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 22:25, 2 replies)
Strangely enough my biggest disappointment was yesterday....Hi all, long time lurker, first time QOTW poster. All aboard for a rollercoaster ride of crushing disappointment. It’s a big’un.
My most recent (and possibly biggest) disappointment happened yesterday, as the title somewhat suggests.
Our beloved cat, Ernie, has been missing for a while. He's one of the coolest cats around, shimmering white and ginger in colour, has been repeatedly described by many as a "champagne" hue. A big hulking fluffeh awesome chap he was. Lazy like you wouldn’t believe, ate like a sumo-wrestler with a food fetish and would beat down a door to sit on your chest.
He'd been part of the family for 8 years and we rescued him from a stray cat center when he was only about one year old, brought him home along with his cell mate, Eric. He was so scared he didn’t come out of the basket for two days. We lost Eric inside of the first year due to “feline AIDS”….. yep it exists.
Anyways, he went missing about 4 weeks ago, very unlike him, he had the grace of a drunken rhino and normally struggled to get up a fence, let alone walk along one, so consequently he never often left the back garden. However, it was a balmy day down on the Sussex Riviera and he'd been lying about in the garden for hours - as fat cats do.
"He'll be back when he’s hungry" we told ourselves.
"He'll be back when it’s dark" we told ourselves later
"He'll be back in the morning" we told ourselves that evening
"I hope he comes back....." we said later that week.
We did the usual, made posters, walked around the neighborhood calling "ERNIE" while waving tins of tuna about like all sane people do.
The days went by and there was no body, no-one came to us. But he wasn’t flat at the side of any of the roads nearby... there was hope.
About 2 weeks later we had a knock on our door from a neighbor at the other end of our road "Have you found your cat?" qouth they. "Ney" we replied. "Then come quickly, I think he’s down near our house" we ran like the wind down to the end of the road. We could see a cat sitting in the distance. He was white! He was ginger!! He was Ernie!!!....... About 5 years ago.
Strange how it happens but this cat was his exact double, except a bit thinner and a lot smaller, couldn’t have been more than 2 years old, we had never seen it before and now he's there every day, mocking us in Ernie-like imitation. "Bugger" is about the correct word for that situation.
All was quiet on the feline-front for another two weeks.
Then yesterday, what do we hear but a knock on the door, we open it and it’s the lady from a few doors down, again he hear those Ill fated words “Have you found your cat yet?” To which we answer in the negative.
This time however, she mentions that the people who live in the road over from her, whose gardens backs on to hers, have found a cat in their garden and passed her a poster over then fence, which she then produced before us along with one of our posters like a shining ray of hope.
“Cat Lost” coupled with “Cat Found” a match made in heaven. There was a picture on it.
White, check
Ginger, check
Hulking Fluffeh Fatness, check.
It was HIM!! No doubt about it, our hearts leapt. Excitement building, we read the poster over and over and there was one line that jumped out at us.
“He is a little poorly so has been taken to the *local vet* as of Friday” Our neighbor commented on this and said that apparently he had been going back and forth to the poster-producers house over the last few days so couldn’t have been that bad.
It’s true, he’ll be fine. Vets are miracle workers, they’ll give him some food and a cool cat-bandage and he’ll be right as rain.
I bundled out the door and flew down to the vet. All was well again, by the end of the week he’ll be happily snoozing on my chest as I watch QI and it’ll be like he was never gone. I bounce in and up to the reception both the lost and found posters clutched in hand like the matching pair of keys to the treasure that will bring our Ernie back home.
“I believe someone has brought our cat in to you, he’s been missing for some time. We were so worried” I happily say to the lovely lady behind the desk as I hand over the posters.
“Oh isn’t he pretty” she smiles, “I’ve been away for a few days but I’ll go see what we have in stock” chuckling as she went to fetch my buddy.
One, Two, Five minutes go by and she hasn’t returned. Happy optimism begins to dampen… maybe he’s more than a little poorly….. He’ll still be fine though. He’s only 8, positively middle-aged in cat years.
She shuffles, back into the room. She doesn’t look quite as bubbly as 5 minutes ago.
“I’m ever so sorry” she whispers. “Yes we do have him; he was brought in on Friday. We kept him in over the weekend but he kept fitting. We weren’t sure what was causing it but suspect it may have been epilepsy, there was nothing we could do and it was getting worse and more frequent as time was going on. Unfortunately we had to put him down last night.”
*Enter sound of world collapsing, stage left*
“We still have the body if you want to say goodbye”
I follow her into a small, silver, sterile room with a towel unceremoniously covering a lump on the table. “Are you ready?” I nod, and with that she pulls back the towel like a sick Paul Daniels trick and there was my friend, alone and unmoving on the soulless metallic slab. Clenched, still and scared.
I reached out to stroke him one last time… dead cats are cold.
I don’t know where he was in those four weeks he was missing, whether he was having these fits before, where he was sleeping, where he was eating. All I know was that those 30 minutes between thinking he was coming home to realizing I would never see him again where the biggest high and most disappointing, crushing low I have ever known.
And I can’t help thinking that if I’d known just one day earlier I could have been there and he wouldn’t have made his, no doubt painful, exit from this world alone.
Rest in Peace Ernie… Ernest…. Ern. You were my buddy, my friend and my companion and I’ll miss you always. I’m sorry I wasn’t there.
Length... About 20 inches… and far far too cold.
(, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 22:17, 27 replies)
Misleading names...The Art on Deviant Art wasn't "deviant" as much as it was full of catpeople.
And even worse than that, the first time I tuned in expecting to see "Desperate Housewives"...
(, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 22:11, 1 reply)
Hmm.. my whole life?Well, lets begin at the start, shall we?
Back when I was a young'un, about 5 or 6, I was constnatly told I am a "bright" child, it's the one memory I have, always being told i'm "bright" and that I can do anything I want.
Now all through primary school I was also bullied a fair amount, nothing like getting beaten up, but I can remember the first disappointment ever in my life, where at one point I just thought to myself "Why does no one else want to play with me" While the bullying wasn't that bad, with my lack of friends and already wondering why people don't like me, what people said really got to me and destroyed my self confidence at an early age, but I got through it, I went to high school, where the second disappointment begins.
Looking back, academically everything was fine, while my grades were never the best (mainly due to a lack of effort) I got by, chose my subjects, bullying continued, self confidence destroyed, my so called "friends" insulted me and generally saw me as a tag along and knew I wouldn't fight back due to me not wanting to be alone.
Roll on to college, (i've just finished my first year, at 16 and im rather supple compared to many) but it totally fell apart, I am lost, i'm not sure what I want to do, if I can achieve anything, I've given up, been dragged through to scrape grades and I still just don't care.
No matter what's happened in my life, no matter how bad things have got, and while me and my parents aren't exactly close, I know they would do anything for me to get me into a career I want, and they have supported me through all this.
So where is the big disappointment? Well my biggest disappointment is that i'm myself, and that anyone else in my shoes would have taken advantage of the chances I got, of having parents who'd do anything, but not me, and I honestly can't say why, but the one disappointment I have is that i'm myself, when other people who are less well off deserve far more.
I'm not lookking for pity, or for you to feel sorry for me, I know everything is brought about by myself, but at the end of the day I can't change that, no matter how much I wish I could. I recognise how my life isn't that bad, I like to think I have friends, I have a nice family, practically everything I could want, but because of who I am none of that matters.
P.S. Don't think i'm a whiney emo cnut, but even though I will never know any of you, I will never see you or hear you or do anything with you, except share stories on a forum, it's nice to be able to tell someone who I am, without fear of being judged or any pain.
(Obligitory length joke)
(, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 22:03, 18 replies)
SexIt's not worth the hype.
And ceratinly not the bullshit they write about in romance novels.
Never seen them mention it hurting to wipe after you pee for the next three days.
And porn stars are faking it. ALL OF THEM. ALL THE TIME.
(walks away muttering to herself)
(, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 21:50, 13 replies)
Last monthThe wife and I had a lovely holiday up in the Scottish Highlands.
A local cafe had a map of the world on the wall. Glad we didn't choose to go here: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cape_Disappointment_%28South_Georgia%29
Next year we've rented a cottage on the little known island of Greater Letdown which is just off the Indifferent Peninsula.
.
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sir_spicious2000 Crap I've watched: www.filmplop.blogspot.com/, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 21:34,
Reply)
The Year AbroadAs most of you know, I've just finished four years of uni studying French and Italian, a course I was perfectly happy to take and enjoyed most of (bar studying Garibaldi a lot and La Haine far too many times).
Anyway. As part of the course, we were expected to spend the third year shipped off to various parts of Europe and the world to study at universities there or be language assistants. At first I was reluctant to do this, because I wasn't sure I'd cope.
I was even more reluctant when Stalker Girl got a place in Lausanne, the same as me.
I was reluctant right up until I got to the airport to fly to Geneva a couple of years ago, wanting to throw the boarding pass away and run.
I was even more reluctant when I landed in Geneva, turned my phone on and was immediately pounced on by Stalker Girl, wanting to "meet up and explore the city together".
I was even more reluctant when, three months later, I wanted to stab her in the face every time she even said "hi" to me, knowing that if I even said hello to anyone else the suicide threats and stamping would start again. I prayed to get Lausanne over with and move to Siena.
I was even more reluctant when I arrived in Siena, to be immediately perved on by a man old enough to be my grandad, a pattern that was quickly established and carried on until the day I left.
I was even more reluctant when the uni had no idea who I was, why I was meant to be there and the woman in charge of Erasmus had a go at me for not being Italian.
I was even more reluctant when I saw my halls, realised that I had to share a room with a girl who spoke Italian in a thick Cypriot accent and I couldn't understand a word she said, and when the window got broken and my friend's bag got nicked.
I was even more reluctant when I realised the halls had no internets.
I was even more reluctant than that when some old dude flashed his length and girth at me in the street.
Ultimately, I spent 6 months in alternately boiling heat and torrential rain, wandering the streets of Siena, homesick as a very homesick thing in spite of the few friends I made there (none of them were Italian, the Italian girls were all up themselves), and cursing anyone who'd told me before I left "you'll have an amazing time, it's the best year ever, you'll make so many friends, you won't have time to be homesick!", all as if they were brainwashed.
Anyone who tells you Erasmus is AMAZING and FANTASTIC and THE BEST THING EVER is a liar. Fact.
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Maladicta, Thu 26 Jun 2008, 21:14,
11 replies)
This question is now closed.