The National Film Registry has accepted 'A Beautiful Mind' for preservation as a work of cultural significance.
However, rather than just archiving the film reels, this time the Board wants all the scenery, the props and the actors as well. It may seem a bit excessive now, but just think - in the far future when our distant ancestors dig down through all the layers of rock, they might discover the skeletal remains of Russell Crowe, or maybe even a fossily Connelly.
( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Thu 26 Jun 2014, 15:14, 1 reply)

Right.
I sculpted a self portrait behind a great river water drop, and claimed it was a likeness of someone else, and charged people to see it.

I think.

That was my falls-y con o'me.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 26 Jun 2014, 14:48, 6 replies)

I used to produce Honey commercially
Which was a sweet business (I expect at least one remonstration for that pun... and the rest), but my profits began to fall when my hives became a vandalism target for the local hoodlums. The little bastards has taken to leaping the admittedly flimsy and ineffectual fence that bordered my humble farm after hours and alternately setting fire to and pissing out the highly flammable wooden hives. Despite putting up signs about guard dogs, electric fences and closed circuit cameras, nothing could deter the vindictive shits. Finally, in desperation I hit on a plan, I would move the hives to a sympathetic friends farm and set up a 'sting' (BOOM NOW WE'RE TALKING) using actual CCTV and fake hives. Didn't work though.

So much for my false bee colony.
(RebelWithoutApplause My underestimation will almost be the death of me, Thu 26 Jun 2014, 14:40, Reply)

your all cunts.

( janet aylia y'all motherfuckers need jesus, Thu 26 Jun 2014, 13:25, 11 replies)

I love finding estuaries, but was skint
So my mates paid for me to go on holiday in Cornwall


Fal seek on homies
( A Rory Borealis here under duress, Thu 26 Jun 2014, 13:17, 3 replies)

Some of you may recall that, a few years ago, a lesbian disguised herself as a boy to find a girlfriend.
Her and her partner entered into a sexual relationship and using a cheap dildo managed to keep the truth hidden. It eventually came out after the girl realised what was going on and the woman who started the whole charade was arrested, put on trial and eventually spent some time inside.

The victim only ever issued one statement regarding the whole affair.

"I can't believe it was a falsie conning me."
( Muns, Thu 26 Jun 2014, 13:11, 4 replies)

A few of us were made redundant in May and the DWP have now got us doing unpaid work.
Still, at least it's varied. This last week I've been on a farm, looking for escaped chickens. And that was my fowl seek on no money.
( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Thu 26 Jun 2014, 12:12, 6 replies)

My friend - a deeply religious man called Gurdeep - was telling me about this time he went parachuting with a group, including our friend Tom, who is a a notorious coward.
He told it from the top - about the training they did the day before, the familiarisation with the aircraft, the various emergency procedures, etc etc.

On the day they flew, the weather wasn't actually that good - borderline for parachuting - and the group were quite nervous including, as Gurdeep masterfully put it, "One member, who did not have perhaps as much control over his bodily functions as he would have liked to have had."

Me: Let's face it - it was Tom, wasn't it?

Fall Sikh: Oh no - me!
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 26 Jun 2014, 10:19, 15 replies)

One for the geeks/techies.
Cheap (Altai brand IIRC) 12volt power suply, the type you use on CB radios etc. Had one which I used for fixing car radios back in the days when it was worth it. Mate's rather posh at the time Alpine head unit had a CD stuck in it, no problem says I, bring the car round and i'll sort it.

Head unit removed from car, on the bench stripped down. Jammed disc removed no problems so far but I couldn't see a reason for it jamming in the first place. Hook it up to said power supply to test and things went a bit (lot) tits-up. Turns out when the cheapo internal fine adjust preset goes open circuit it then fries the output transistors thus sending 30+ volts out. One fried head unit, one angry mate and a good few hours work and a bunch of fairly expensive components later and it was sorted. Worst thing was I could have bought a used and bit battered but shitloads better quality (as I now know) PSU in the same shop on the same day for a few quid more.

TL;DR Don't buy cheap tools
(Outrun Is it the weekend yet?, Thu 26 Jun 2014, 0:15, 1 reply)

More Poundland Mayhem!
A large chunk of my now completed Community Service Order involved me having to assist a group of mentally-disadvantaged weirdos with their weekly shopping. Part of this exceptionally painful process included a trip to Poundland/PoundStretcher/PennyWise - or whatever the fuck it was called.

Once inside, my group would run amok, gleefully piling all manner of crap into their baskets, then rushing to the tills, they'd pull out handfuls of pound-coins from their cagoules, thrusting them at the frightened checkout girls.

One particular chap knew exactly what he wanted and each week he dragged me to the same corner of the shop, point repeatedly at the same sign and then proceed to wet himself with excitement (which wasn't as awkward as it sounds, as he wore adult diapers).

'Looooook...' He'd drawl at me, 'Here they are!'

And there they were:

- Broken Biscuits 10 Packs for £1 -

Underneath the sign, in a vast, bathtub sized bucket, there were hundreds of squished, half-opened and virtually inedible packets of biscuits. All the famous ones were there, bourbons, custard creams, chocolate fingers, the malt ones, the Nice ones. Our friend would gather up armfuls and dump them into his own basket-on-wheels thing (you know, the type old ladies drag from shop to shop).

Every now and then he'd stop, call me over and thrust a packet of biscuits in my face.

'Looook, perrrrfect!' He'd say, 'This one has NO brokens!'

And he was right, one or two out of every fifty packets was indeed perfect - a full, unopened and almost definitely, unbroken packet of biscuits.

'These are worth TWO POUNDS,' He'd yell, 'They're CADBURY.'

This scene was repeated every week - and probably still is - except for one day, when I decided to interrupt his Rainman-esque routine to question the logic of his purchases. You see, he'd buy at least £10 worth of broken biscuits each time, then return home, throw away the properly broken crap and just keep the 'No Brokens'.

'Do you know for the same money, you could buy at least five packets of brand-new biscuits?' I asked him, 'This would save you a fortune AND ensure you only had perfect biscuits.'

But he wasn't having any of it, launching into a twenty minute diatribe, he explained at extraordinary length and in extraordinary detail about this one time at the pound shop, when EVERY packet in the tub was completely, to a crumb, unbroken.

'Shut it!' I cried. 'Enough already! Can't you see that's just a fool's anomaly?'
( Albert Marshmallow is a completely irredeemable cunt, Wed 25 Jun 2014, 23:55, 9 replies)

We have two horses
and recently paid the GDP of a small country to have one of them covered (shagged, in other words) by a certified stallion. Clearly he was good, as the mare was soon pregnant, and a foal was duly delivered on time and healthy, or so we thought. She was fine whilst on mother's milk, but when introduced to solids developed a bad case of acid reflux. Rather a messy job for our Italian stable lad, who was heard to exclaim "Hey! this-a foal's sick onna me!"
(katie hopkins telling it where its at, Wed 25 Jun 2014, 18:55, 14 replies)

Generic drugs
I'm a pharmacist in real life, and I'm going to answer this question wrong.

Whatever you think of the morality and ethics of large drug companies (clue: they don't have any), they invest massive amounts of money in developing new drugs. Most drugs never make it to the market, and quite a few of those that do are withdrawn somewhere down the line when unfortunate side-effects come to light.

To protect that substantial investment in research & development, there is an extended patent on each successful drug, so the company that developed it is the only one allowed to market it. They make the most of that by charging as much as they like for it, so they can recoup those costs and make a tidy profit before the patent expires (after 7-10 years, usually). Then any drug company can manufacture it.

An example of a drug that recently came off patent is sildenafil. Until it came off patent, any pharmacy that dispensed a NHS prescription for sildenafil was reimbursed for the branded product, Viagra. When the patent expired, generics manufacturers started making it. Because they hadn't spent decades investing in research and development and clinical trials, they could charge a hell of a lot less for it than Pfizer does, and the price the NHS pays for sildenafil was substantially reduced as a result.

So, the generic version of a drug is a lot cheaper than the branded version. The NHS likes generic versions to be prescribed, so that it costs a lot less to pay for drugs prescribed to patients. The generics are identical, and subject to the same tests and quality assurance. They're just cheaper.

Sometimes, patients insist that they have to be given the brand.

Very occasionally, there might be a clinical reason why someone needs one particular brand of their medication. Perhaps they have an adverse reaction to one of the other ingredients, or the formulation (e.g. they can't swallow one brand which comes in round tablets, but they can cope with another brand which comes in oval tablets). This, however, is true in a vanishingly small number of cases.

Usually, it's some cunt with a massively inflated sense of entitlement - who is almost invariably very well-off - who insists that they have to get a particular brand of medication because they've twigged that the other one is cheaper, and therefore doesn't work.

They're wrong.
(Plague Hedgehog 'posting crap', Wed 25 Jun 2014, 18:37, 44 replies)

The correct answer is decorating
The hall needs decorating says the missus.

My thought process is like this:

I could pay a guy £500 and he'll get it done in two days

or

I could do it myself in a week and pay £50 on materials and spend the rest on beer

I obviously go for the latter. It starts well enough, but as soon as I start to tackle the stairwell it all goes to shit and I realise I've bitten off more than I can chew and don't have the correct tools for the job. After a week I surrender and pay a guy £500 to tidy up my mess.
(BinDipper, Wed 25 Jun 2014, 18:09, 3 replies)

I wanted to learn to dance to impress a posh bird
the waltz at a Society wedding to be specific, so I had a series of lessons. In Vienna. Yes I know, but I was smitten.

At the big event the bride, groom and guests took to the floor. Before long I realised that there were titters and sniggers and muttered comments directed at me. It was my terrible attempt at doing the waltz that attracted their derision. All that money on dance lessons wasted.

That's the story of my Valtz ignominy.



_{Hey, I tried, OK?}
( MisterPunch did it that way on, Wed 25 Jun 2014, 18:05, Reply)

Maplin own brand headphones
I had a pair of those sports headphones by JVC. Last week, they packed up after two years of everyday use. I went to Maplin and looked for similar headphones. The cheapest branded pair was about 30 quid, but they had their own brand for eight quid.

"They're only for running," I thought, as I took the eight quid pair to the till and paid the man.

Getting them to wrap snugly around my ears was as difficult as keeping Savile away from a children's ward. In the process, I nearly snapped the plastic prong that goes behind the ear. So now, I have a pair of shit headphones and I need to spend even more on a decent pair.

Never give own brands a chance...
(Sutcliffe's Ball Pein, Wed 25 Jun 2014, 17:24, 1 reply)

I didn't want to pay the $10 to join the SA forums.

( Happy Phantom has been to Hastings, Brighton, and Eastbourne too, Wed 25 Jun 2014, 16:47, 1 reply)

Bought my daughter an inexpensive pair
of roller boots from Aldi. All the wheels fell off within a week
Damn cheap skates
(andythepieman Is surfing the waves of indifference on, Wed 25 Jun 2014, 15:46, 4 replies)

Baby alarms
We bought one of these. It didn't work - she still got pregnant.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Wed 25 Jun 2014, 15:16, 2 replies)

British Gas called me last month and asked if I wanted to take a homecare plan out.
Yeah, OK. £24/month, all my water and electrical systems covered. Why not?

On Sunday the coil in my hot water tank split.

£1,000 to replace it.

Thanks British gas. Only another 4 years and you'll be back on top.
(username failed moderation, Wed 25 Jun 2014, 14:15, 19 replies)

I have calculated every purchase with extreme accuracy
and as such have never experienced a false economy, and always get the best value for money possible on any product I aquire.
( Glovington, Wed 25 Jun 2014, 14:02, 15 replies)

Years ago...
...I invested in a massive, yet utterly fictional, property portfolio. Fucking enormous it was, despite existing entirely within the confines of my own imagination.

In the short term it was far cheaper than a real one, but in the long run it turned out to be substantially less lucrative.
(Joy Division Oven Gloves Death to false metal, Wed 25 Jun 2014, 13:50, 3 replies)

That shop
Air pumps that wont. Cycle mirrors that dont fit the handle bar. Toilet paper so soft your fingers go thru. Shampoo that gives meaning to the words 'Sham' and 'Poo'. Stereo headphones with an obscure jack plug. Clothing line pegs that break after 5 minutes on the line. The false economy of Poundland should be obvious to everyone by now. Buying a £1 pack of condoms and presenting them to the Burka'd cashier is definitely worth the money tho ho ho.
(luckylife , 0 guests and 3 bots are online, Wed 25 Jun 2014, 12:24, 20 replies)

Petrol
My father in law will happily drive an extra 5 miles to a garage just so he can pay 1p less per litre than the garage closest to his home. Given that cars do around 9 miles per litre he's spending a lot more on petrol to drive to the garage than he is saving. But it's ok because he is getting a cheaper price.

This is the same man who will buy dozens of packets of toilet paper or toothpaste when there is a 2 for 1 offer or equivalent. I haven't worked out the opportunity cost of having all your money tied up in toilet paper but I'm pretty sure it's not that big a saving. Mind you, when he does the same for offers on beer or wine I always help him drink it.
(Smale is stuffed, Wed 25 Jun 2014, 11:54, 6 replies)

Getting married is a false economy when it comes to sex on tap. Much better off with sex workers
then you can avoid costly divorces and having to shag the same cardboard box once a month. Want kids, pay for a surrogate.
( d.r._and_quinch when will you be famous?, Wed 25 Jun 2014, 11:28, 2 replies)

Gyms.
If you want to get a good body - get paid for it - become a scaffolder.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Wed 25 Jun 2014, 11:18, 3 replies)

And another thing...Parking at gyms
It's kind of a false economy: why do so many people circle car parks at Gyms looking to park close to the entrance. Driver spends 3 minutes of his life circling car park with spaces to get 20 yards closer than he could have parked 3 minutes ago. Then goes to the gym to run 5 miles on a machine... But that 20 yards he saved makes all the difference.
(Gusofnavarone always makes a map of france from sarnies, Wed 25 Jun 2014, 10:57, 20 replies)

prsnlly spkng, my kybrd hs n vwls. nlss y ncld Y.

( Muns, Wed 25 Jun 2014, 9:37, 9 replies)

The older generation...
My father-in-law is very practically minded - he can build and repair pretty much anything having worked as a mechanic, engineer and carpenter. He has a small flat that he rents out about 30 miles from our home town and his tenant is a lovely lady who had just had a baby. The washing machine broke down so he very quickly ordered one online from Currys or somesuch.

It arrived at my father in laws the next day and he volunteered me to help fit it. I took an afternoon off work and borrowed a trolley from my neighbour who had to spend 20 minutes getting it from the back of his shed. We cleared out f-I-l's car, folded down the seats, heaved the washing machine into the back, drove 30 miles, unloaded it, carried it over soft ground, lugged it up 4 flights of narrow stairs, removed plinths from the kitchen units, spent 15 minutes trying to unscrew the hoses which were really awkward to reach, removed the old machine, lined up then shuffled the new machine into place over 30 minutes, improvised extended hoses, screwed in new hoses which took even longer than removing them, cleaned kitchen of detritus, swear, dirty water, etc, lugged the old machine back down 4 flights of stairs, carried it over the soft ground and heaved it into the back of the car before driving 30 miles home 4 hours later.

In the car on the way back I mentioned that a lot of companies now will deliver to the correct address, install and remove the old machine. Apparently, f-I-l was very aware of this but he chose not to take that option because, "the cheeky buggers wanted £10 to install it and £10 to take the old machine away".

Oh, that's OK then!
(Gusofnavarone always makes a map of france from sarnies, Wed 25 Jun 2014, 9:03, 8 replies)