I am turning into a parent
and I can pinpoint the exact moment. It will be tomorrow, when I get my new baby. If you click 'I like this' I might call it B3ta.
( I have run out of coke is a little sweaty, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 15:04, 7 replies)

I had been wondering
why when I sit back on a sofa I put my arms behind my head, but off centre so one wrist or forearm is behind the head and the fingers are clasped together.

Then I saw my dad sat in exactly the same way....
( Vipros. clever got me this far, then tricky got me in, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 15:01, 2 replies)

I have no problem agreeing with the Telegraph
as they have a great photo gallery if nothing else. It's The Daily fail that fucks me off. Today...
www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-1174284/Sarah-Jessica-Parker-goes-toy-shopping--looking-remarkably-slim-woman-expecting-twins.html

And then in the first paragraph...
confirmed they are expecting twin girls by a surrogate mother.

FFS. I'm not even sure why I take such umbrage at this.
( fuck shit up the best you never had, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 15:01, 2 replies)

I get stressed
if someone comes into my house and doesn't take thier shoes off. I feel a bit stressed just thinking about it.
( Colonel Dracula Two manky hookers and a racist dwarf, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 14:56, 1 reply)

To mirror K2k6
I knew it was the beginning of the end when I bought a Volvo last month. By choice. And it's grey, and got an automatic gearbox.

At least it's not an estate.

I'm only 27 *cries*
( rubberduck should only be used after consulting with your GP, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 14:56, 9 replies)

My dad......
I never knew my dad. Sad story realy. I didn't find out I was adopted until I was pretty much grown up, and even then I only met him a few times, not under the best of circumstances I'm afraid.

Now I think of it, in many ways we are very similar people. We both went into very similar professions, and both share broadly similar spiritual beleifs. Also, following an epic lightsabre duel under cloud city I've now been fitted with a cybernetic hand, similar in many ways to the cybernetics that keep my father alive and give him pretty severe breathing problems. I guess it just goes to show how much is down to genetics.

(I'm so very very sorry)
(Fredz A graveyard of hopes, a dump of ambition, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 14:46, 5 replies)

This week I finally gave in
and bought a pair of elasticated waistband "jogging" (ha!) pants to wear around the house.

They're fantastic.

The part that makes me my parents is how much I want to tell people about how comfy they are. And very reasonably priced!
( The Light in Chains don't touch the Pope's boner, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 14:44, 5 replies)

A very angry complaint letter
To the head of Swalec's customer service after they disconnected me. Following a load of fuckups that I detailed in the letter (including the paragraph "I asked when I would be reconnected, and the lady on the phone said that the first time a reconnection could be scheduled was Tuesday. I believe "Are you serious?" were my first words.") I spent the last three paragraphs detailing exactly how angry I was:


This morning, I phoned up again from a call box, now extremely angry and fed up with being given information that was untrue as well as being continually inconvenienced through no fault of my own! I had spent around £15 in calls from my mobile phone, all the food in my fridge/freezer was ruined and I did not even have the ability to cook it before it went off because my flat is entirely electrically powered! The lady I spoke to said that an emergency reconnection had indeed been scheduled but was listed as "pending" - she then told me that Western Power Distribution could not reconnect me, that their only responsibility was during power cuts, and that the company you use for metering services including disconnection and reconnection did not work on Saturdays or Sundays! I will now have to phone up on Monday to get someone to call them then.

By the time I phone up on Monday morning I will have been without electricity for five days. I have been without the ability to cook, to wash or to even see properly in the evenings. I have been forced to spend money I cannot afford to spend, being a student on a budget. I am disgusted that it seems the only way to get your company to solve a problem is to constantly phone you, spending my own time and money on getting a solution to a problem that is not my fault. What is your customer service department there for, exactly? I have told them the problem, they are completely aware of it and yet still I personally will have to phone up again to get them to sort it out! Solving problems is their job, not mine! I am incredibly angry that I have to wait an extra three days for reconnection because the contractors you use apparently cannot understand the concept of an emergency happening on a weekend. I suggest you find new contractors to run your metering services.

I would like your personal assurance that I will receive some sort of compensation for the inconvenience you and your contractors have caused me and I would like you to carry out an investigation into your procedures for this sort of circumstance so that no others have to go through the farce that I have been through and continue to go through.

Yours,
cypherspace.

I got an apology and £100 off my next bill. Score one for the fogeys!
(cypherspace is not a toaster, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 14:38, 2 replies)

Crossing the rubicon
I, at the age of 33, can no longer get excited about the current state of music.

There, I've said it.

I can't pin-point exactly when I stopped caring, but it only happened recently; 12 months ago I was fine. I'm hoping to god it's all the re-hashed 80s stuff that's leaving me so meh, but what if it isn't? What if it's my age?

*sobs*
(Go on , touch it, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 14:37, 9 replies)

Many years ago
When I was about 18 and my little brother was about 5 I was taking him to the shops. We stopped at the side of the road before crossing. I took his hand in mine and, without thinking, said "Quick March!"

He looked at me and said "That's what Mummy says."

Dammit.
(Mork, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 14:37, Reply)

This QOTW does not apply to me
OK, so I can't really help looking, talking and walking like my father. But while I love and respect my dad, I have spent my entire life trying to avoid following in his footsteps in the following ways:

- not becoming an accountant
- actually having something to do with my life outside work
- having some friends

So let's see:

- I'm a computer programmer
- I enjoy, er, programming computers
- I do have friends, but have moved so far away from them that I only see them a couple of times a year

So as you can see, I am completely different from my father. Right, I'm just off to read my newspaper for an entire day while muttering about the state of the country.
( reallywittyname veraciously conspues lexiphanicism on, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 14:36, Reply)

A shameful admission
I have a stick in my shed (I have a shed!)

It has one purpose and can not be used for anything else.

It's my special paint-stirring stick.
( SpikeyPickle wishes he was mabazaritchie, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 14:33, 11 replies)

When I see a young, skinny blonde
walking down the street in nothing but a skimpy skirt and the tiniest of tops my immediate thought usually is, "She must be cold in that!"
I'm 18.
My dad's immediate thought, on the other hand, is usually an erection; I've got some way to go, yet!
(Frozen_Banana Shaved against the grain; thoroughly unrewarding., Thu 30 Apr 2009, 14:32, 4 replies)

I'm just glad
That I'm not turning into my parents. My Father is as deaf as a post, but won't accept the fact, and my mother is aflicted with dementia. Both of them have dodgy hearts and lungs.

I'm just glad that most of my friends are younger than me, they're doing a good job of keeping me youthful.
(Herr Doktor Lemminge Is bored, so cheer me up!, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 14:32, Reply)

LOL-ita
There's a pretty and blonde receptionist at my local gym with whom I occasionally have a mildly flirtatious little conversation as she swipes my card.

I joked to myself that this was silly, because she's probably about half my age. Then I stopped, realising that the joke probably wasn't all that inaccurate. And then I felt very sordid indeed.

I'm off to the grubby mac shop now. See you later.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 14:30, 9 replies)

Seeming to have, at some point, inadvertently...
...memorised most of the motorway map of the UK.

I am my father.

Next stop, estate vehicle and carrying a box of spanners and an old towel in the boot of the car just in case. That and Phil Collins CD's...
(Super Oaf Petit filous?, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 14:29, 2 replies)

Pun of my father
Someone offered me a biscuit at work the other day.

I replied:

'Oh, well I "bis-cuit" one in while there's some left'

Then slapped my thigh and chuckled.

I've got the shit puns, I've got the right build, and I've even got a hint of the dress sense... if I just grow a 'tache, I will actually be indistinguishable from a 27 year old version of my dad.
(SnowyTheWereRabbit the Leporid from Hell, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 14:27, Reply)

Sometimes I forget I'm old.
Then I'll catch sight of some old lady walking past in the mirrors in Boots and realise it's actually me.

I have one of those lightweight hiking jackets that all middle-aged women seem to wear.

Ever time I get suddenly hot or cold I think I've started the menopause.

I could go on and on and on.
( girlinthehole, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 14:25, 2 replies)

staying in
used to be (as recently as a year or two ago) i would have to go out every weekend. friday and saturday night, regardless of how skint i was, where i was going or who i was with. i'd just have to get out of the house and find a pub/club/party to get drunk or otherwise in until i'd forgotten how to walk and behave myself. afterall you can't stay in on a friday night, can you. what kind of loser does that?

of late however i've found myself much preferring to just stay on weekends. few beers, a pizza and a film is my idea of a perfect friday night now. it's becoming more and more of an effort to motivate myself to go out anywhere.

i'm also slightly terrified of nightclubs these days and haven't been to one in well over a year, in contrast to my clubbing days when i would be out all weekend, every weekend, taking as many drugs as i could fit up my nose/in my mouth/up my arse (well, once).

i'm 24 by the way.
(TheManWithThePlan cussed your mum on, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 14:21, 1 reply)

So Far, So Good

I promised myself that I'd never turn into my father. So far, so good.

At least I've never come back from the pub, dragged a child out of bed and punched him with all my strength because he'd thought I'd broken the new, colour telly.

But you have to laugh. Turned out that he didn't know how to use the remote control.

You have to laugh - don't you?
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 14:21, 2 replies)

I am becoming more like my dad with every day that passes
I am losing all inhibitions with things electrical and/or dangerous. Most recent prime example of this being when I was down at my parents over the Easter break, and agreed to sort out the porch. Cue me at one point holding an active metal-grinder in between my legs whilst I have one hand holding my phone to my ear, and my other hand holding a can of coke, whilst my mum looked on in horror and my dad looked on in amusement. Said metal-grinder also had no safety edge thingy on it because of various accidents and stuff that had happened to it. How I did not end up lopping my balls off, I do not know.

I've also developed a thing for torches lately. My mum finds me weird. My dad finds me cool, because once again, I've inherited this from my dad. I now have four different torches, one massive bastard which could also double up as a runway landing strip light, a smaller handheld one for indoors, one torch that I use for airsofting, and a small keyring torch, and relish any opportunity to use them.

We also have a special relationship (no, not in that sense, you perverts!) in the form of me taking an interest in his work. He is one of the top risk managers in the country, and is slowly passing on all his knowledge to me. Amusingly though, both me and him won't actually assess the risks of doing DIY, so at times we end up injured with various other relatives screeching at my dad, "But you're a risk manager!" when we wander in bleeding profusely after realising that grinding nails off a piece of trellis can cause them to fly off with a lot of force. I now have nifty scars from many a DIY accident.

I also now look forward to doing the washing up. Ten minutes of peace and tranquility at the end of the day and my mind doesn't need to work any more. I also look forward to mowing the lawn over the summer.

I'm only 21, someone shoot me now.
(Ghost Atreides enjoying incontestable health benefits on, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 14:20, 7 replies)

Mmm, they look comfy
It rained the other day down here in that London.

I actually, in all seriousness, contemplated buying one of those plastic rain hoods from the chemist.

I might as well just book a blue rinse and a Saga holiday now.
(Rakky (forgot her password) The muffin maverick, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 14:17, 3 replies)

Well for starters
Watching some teen hoodie with his trousers hanging down off his arse, monging along the street.
Turned to my friend, tutted and said
"Look at the state of that"


its a slippery slope down from now on I fear
(insomniac-surfer oh go on then, just this once, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 14:17, Reply)

Following CHCB and Rakky...
I wrote my first letter of complaint last summer. With every keystroke, I could feel the arthritis gnawing further into my joints.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 14:14, 2 replies)

Well, let's see.
I pay about as much attention to what I'm wearing as my father does.

I work at IBM, as a network techie. He works in pretty much the same position as I do at a bank down the street. In fact, sometime he'll call me in an official capacity for hardware support at a datacentre we look after for his bank.

We have the same industry qualifications and are currently racing each other to get the next one first.

Until I grew a beard we were sometimes mistaken for each other if the lights were dim.

Oh dear. Maybe I should go over differences.

He's... older?

Shit.

At least the music I listen to is better than his.


Edit - I like the vidja-gaming. HA!
(Scritty Bakerman., Thu 30 Apr 2009, 14:13, Reply)

I have *nothing* for this.
I shall come up with *something*.
(Poppet some assembly required., Thu 30 Apr 2009, 14:12, Reply)

I drive
an estate car. By choice.

Edit - although it's not a Volvo...
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 14:12, 3 replies)

Disgusted of N1
I regularly write to newspapers (I once got the phrase “tofu-weaving drivel” published in the Guardian on Saturday magazine section) and the BBC to point out mistakes and complain about various aspects of their coverage, particularly of science and health issues.
This does not turn me into my parents (*), but exposes me for the sad, whiny little pedant that I’ve clearly turned into.

And that makes me happy.

(*) turning me into my parents would require me to either become a much nicer person with a better social life or to become dead.
(Rakky (forgot her password) The muffin maverick, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 14:12, 3 replies)

No dead
After years of working in electronics & IT I recently got into playing with old barn engines & stuff, and bought a lathe last Xmas. My dad was a turner which I always sort of looked down on, but now I get my hands dirty for fun. Hell, I even look like my dad now! Apart from not being dead, that is...

Not funny - sorry :(
(Mister_E_Meat was caught sniffing bike saddles at, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 14:11, Reply)