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This is a question My most gullible moment

Someone once told me that gullible wasn't in the dictionary and I went, "yeah yeah ha ha" but when they were gone that didn't stop me checking. What was YOUR most gullible moment? Zero points for buying an icon on b3ta.

(, Thu 21 Aug 2008, 18:33)
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my friend was quite high up in the civil service
in his home country in Africa. He used to trick people into thinking that he was actually a conman in an internet cafe.
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 14:43, Reply)
Who's Who - Not me
I am a company director and as such, my name and business address are held at companies house and are available to anyone who wants them.

A few years ago, I got a letter from a company called "Who's Who Publications" saying that I had been specially selected to be in "Who's Who of Britains Young Business Elite 2004".

Now me being so gullible that I would happily buy some magic beans from someone in the street, thought that this was the same kind of Who's Who that people like Tony Blair might be in and was dead chuffed.

So I smugly sent off my £60 to have my own personal entry and get a copy of the book.

Turns out that it was a complete con and these guys just buy lists from Companies House and see who is gullible, or egotistical, enough to fall for it. My guess is the only people who have a copy are those stupid enough to pay for their own entry (like me).

I still have the book at home and it is there on the bookshelf as a reminder of what a spaz I can be.
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 14:34, 3 replies)
My tattoo
I have a tattoo on my right arm, it's of a very fierce look dragon drawn in a tribal style....

Well first time I was naked with Mrs Lip Up Fatty she asked me what it was, well I told her it was the ancient chinese symbol for mother in law...

Few days later she worked it out!
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 14:33, Reply)
Dr. Keating's Clamp
When my boyfriend was younger his Mum would deal with his, (and his siblings) reluctance to take medicine by threatening to get `Dr. Keating’s Clamp’ (Dr. Keating being the family doctor) to clamp their mouths open to force feed them the medicine.

Of course this was totally ficticious but the very thought of this contraption was enough to scare the pants of them thus working a treat and she was always successful in administering medicine when using this threat.

Clever Lady!
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 14:30, 2 replies)
Pedagogue prank
When I was a small boy of about seven it used to exasperate all the adults who knew me that I couldn't (or wouldn't) stop sucking my thumb.

My primary 3 teacher Mrs Ellor cracked it though. She showed me what happened to her when she couldn't stop sucking her thumb as a child. She showed me her two thumbs together in such a way that one looked about half an inch shorter than the other and told me that this was a result of her contracting cancer of the thumb from continuing to suck it into late childhood.

It worked .... to this day I still don't suck my thumb.
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 14:30, 2 replies)
There was an annoying American boy that lived over the road and as 11 year olds we'd play together.

Randomly he offered me a plastic sword and proclaimed "Let's have a duel!".

Thinking I could take the scrawny git in a sword battering contest I accepted so we took a few paces back and I held my sword ready for attack.

He raised a black widow catapault and fired a gravel stone at me which ripped a big cut in my ear lobe.

What a git. Who'd ever think an American would challenge some fairly defenceless person with minimal weapons then turn up with superior firepower?
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 14:01, 1 reply)
about 6 milion people believe Big Brother actually matters.

no, really.
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 13:59, 3 replies)
As a child,
everytime i fell over and cut my knee my dad would say my leg needed to come off - and that he was off to his shed to get a saw.

Queue a very frightened 5yr old lad screaming "no, no no" followed by me in tears and him laughing.

I now have a 5yr old son, and play this one everytime he does the same.

Its great fun.
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 13:55, 2 replies)
Celebrities and Cougars
Somehow I possess a special ability to lie and keep an absolutely straight face, no matter how bad the lie is, could be from my law training but hey ho.

My first most favouritest lie began with a 2 or 3 week long argument over what would win in a fight, a bear or a cougar (I may even have read the starting point of it on here)

One night, on MSN I decided to pitch the argument to a friend, who was steadfast in her belief that a bear would win. I then went on the convince her that a Cougar had evolved with elastic bands where their leg muscles would be, but that they are allergic to elastic and therefore are always in a bad mood and easily capable of over the top violence.

I left it at that for then.

However, in the pub a few years later, sitting with a group of mates, Sky News comes on and one of the stories is about a cougar attack somewhere. She turns to the rest of us and with a slightly smarmy look says;

"Yeah, probably got sick of its elastic legs"

I cracked up, the others sat there about to ring the funny farm, then it dawned on her that it wasn't true and she had just made a stupendous tit of herself.

Secondly, a very recent one. A girl at my workplace/forced labour camp was convinced by yours truly that Rolf Harris was Calvin Harris's father. I further added to the lie by saying "If you listen really carefully during his hit 'Acceptable in the 80's', you can make out the wobble board".

A final one for now involved my youngest brother and sister, probably 5 and 7 at the time of the lie. I told them that I was an advanced robot, but had human features to stop them getting scared. To keep up the lie I endured a good hour of pinches, punches, kicks etc, all the while making out that the growing number of bruises were just "programming errors" or "data leaks" after hitting my circuits.

More will come as and when I can remember them
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 13:33, Reply)
Apple pip
Aged about 4. I decided, in my infinite wisdom, to sniff an apple pip to see whether that too smelled of apples.

I sniffed too hard and the pip became lodged up my nose, my playschool teacher (I love you Mrs Knott) shined a torch up there and couldn't see anything as it'd probably just taken the scenic route to my stomach. She patted me on the head and sent me on my way with a warning that I might wake up with an apple tree growing from my nose.

I believed her :( too much Enid Blyton methinks.

Que 3 nights of blind terror and ferocious nose picking. Despite reassurances from my parents sometimes I think it might still be lodged up there....

I can't remember if the apple pip smelled appley, BECAUSE I CAN'T SEE PAST THE BLIND TERROR!
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 13:24, 2 replies)
Cable tie boy
This is from an old post but is most definately my most guillable moment.
When I was about 12 I was sent on an errand to the shops and along the way came a cross a boy that I had quite an interest in. I had seen him around and was taken aback when he crossed the road to talk to me.
He showed me a long piece of plastic that he had arranged into a loupe and asked me to put my finger inside the loupe explaining that it `tingled'.
I guess I knew that it wasn't really going to tingle but curiousity (and obviously fancying this lad) led me to do as he asked.
And guess what? The second I put my finger into the loupe he tied the cable as hard as possible resulting in a very tightly trapped pinkie for me!
By the time I had arrived home my finger was blue. My exasperated Dad chopped the cable tie off with a kitchen knife and was less than impressed with his guillable daughter.
I now know what cable ties are and the lad who did that is now dead (nothing to do with me obviously but some kind of karma I 'spose).
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 12:49, 4 replies)
One does not care which way the wind blows
As a child, while listening to 'Bohemian Rhapsody' on the radio, my parents convinced me that the song was not written/performed by Queen, but by *THE* Queen (HM Lizzie).

For a while (due to its regular radio play) I figured that the Queen must have written it as a new national anthem or something.

Sadly realization dawned as I noted that, in the video, it was not Queen Lizzie herself playing the guitar, but a poodle-haired Brian May.

It did actually have me worried for a little while, as I thought that our old Queen had indeed 'Killed a Man'.

Long, stiff, and dead for 17 years.
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 12:31, 4 replies)
More non-existential items
Being in the army, theres the usual treatment towards new guys, including getting the youngest Gunner to go get something that doesnt exist.

"Batteries for the chem-lights"
"A left handed screwdriver"
"A new set of grid squares for a 1:25000 map"

and my initiation of being sent to another gun crew for something fairly heavy and thin - "err, actually, go see bravo gun, im pretty sure they have a long weight"

It would have appeared 25 minutes was a long enough wait for me.

The flying pig award surely goes to a young Gnr Phillips who went around an entire 8 gun battery, 2 command posts and made his way to rear echelon asking for some ovaries.
After losing the poor lad for the better part of the afternoon, he returned to his Gun Sgt, proudly reporting that Cpl George (the female mechanic) has a set but she was using them.
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 12:28, 1 reply)
Hmmm… most gullible moment?
I could tell a story about myself having a stupid moment, but I'd rather be a coward and drop someone else in it... so I'll use the one person who is more gullible than me... my sister! Ha!

Whilst lazing around at my parent’s house for a weekend of free food and generally being waited on me, my mum, sister and fiancé settled down to watch some crap telly. Flicking through the channels we came across the end of Three Men and a Little Lady and decided to watch the last few minutes.

My sister decided to confess that she had always had a crush on Tom Selleck, which we all had a good laugh about. She told us that when she was little she thought Tom was really manly because of his hairy chest and big tash. It’s at this moment I noticed a sparkling glimmer of evil in my fiancés eye and out comes his response...

' Yes I suppose you're right, it’s weird though, I still have trouble believing that he’s gay'.

I immediately bit my lip and tired to suppress my sniggers while my sister’s eyes opened wide and her mouth opened wider. 'What do you mean he's gay, he's not gay, don't be stupid'. I noticed that she was looking at me to confirm the announcement. I stared back at her (with the most serious face I could pull) and agreed, 'yeah he's gay, he came out years ago, I can't believe you didn't you know that?'.

This went on for about 10 minutes and we had managed to convince my sister and mother that Tom Selleck was gay. It wasn't until my father came in and my mum told him about it that he laughed out loud and said 'don't be stupid, who told you that?'... Then we fell about laughing and confessed. I'm never seen my sister looked so angry and confused at the same time! Mwah ha haaa!

Now I feel guilty about being mean to my sister so I’ll confess my most gullible moment too…

When I was about 7 my mother convinced me that there was a goldfish in a really deep puddle outside the front out our house. I was so stupid that I waited outside in the rain for over an hour trying to spot the fish and catch it as my pet… bless!
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 12:19, 3 replies)
Masturbation, chanting, and sweetcorn don’t mix… (or ‘The Time Pooflake Joined a Cult’)

Way back in the late 70’s when it seemed almost a pre-requisite to join one band of fruitloops or another, I decided to focus my lack of interest from the ladies into something productive. I therefore looked for something local that could offer divination, cheap food and cheaper (maybe even free) love

I didn’t get to join a famous ‘cool’ cult like ‘The Family’ or the ‘Branch Davidians’ – Nope, I wisely decided that all the really hot chicks would already be spoken for at those places so I went for the lesser known “High-Spirit Verde Gargantua” cult of Cheswick.

Their fundamental code of the group was based on their belief in the ‘holy scrolls of ευχάριστα’ which state that any day now, the Jolly Green Giant from the tinned sweetcorn adverts would return from his 7000 year frozen state and stamp across the land, smiting anybody that wasn’t showing him the blessed ’two finger salute of sweetcorny goodness-a-plenty’

At the recruitment centre I was shown a presentation by Aackbar Endemol, the cult leader (although he didn’t like the word ‘Leader’ as only the Giant himself was our true leader…Aackbar insisted on being called simply ‘The Host’)

Despite the fact the Aackbar had decided that the usage of speech was below him, and he only communicated through the medium of mime, he still managed to wow my young imagination with demonstrations on how I would become a general of the New Giant World Order, and if I played my cards right I might be able to squat at the throne of the JGG for him to rest one of his giant bare stampy green feet on my back…

Of course, I signed over ownership of my parent’s house straight away, and after initial introductions I adapted to the communal life very well (although the diet of tinned sweetcorn for breakfast, dinner and tea every day certainly didn’t do my digestive system much cop…I was squitting out entire solid cobs after about 4 days).

I must admit however I certainly did ‘cut a dash’ in my Hessian robes and flowery print headband…I felt it was only a matter of time before I would be beating off a bevy of brainwashed beauties with the sacred ‘Shitty Stick of Telesphoros’.

After a week, the day of my Indoctrination ceremony finally arrived and I was informed that it would consist of a 24 hour non-stop masturbation-fest until the penis turns green in honour of the JGG. I had arrived!

The thought of this marathon meat-beating session didn’t put me off at all – many was the times I have fwapped myself blurrilly into the next day.

I was a little taken aback however, when I was told that it was not actually going to be myself I would be ‘jiggling the wiggler’ with…

‘Get in there!’ I proclaimed as I imagined some lithe lovely squirming on the end of my over-eager digits.

Unfortunately it was at this point that I was introduced to Delroy, a strapping six-footer who used to play scrum half for the Exeter Chiefs Rugby Club. As he walked into the room and de-bagged his dunghampers, I realised it was going to be a long day…in every sense of the word.

Aackbar mimed instructions at me in a frenzy, insisting that I was to get cracking straight away, because although Delroy wasn’t actually a full member of the cult, he had paid his £100 for the day-long five-knuckle shuffle up front.

The hours passed by slowly as the gathering throngs murmered the chant ‘Ho-ho-ho Green Giant’ as I endlessly tugged on Delroy’s pud until it turned the exact shade of ‘Opulent Olive’ from the Dulux summer gardens catalogue.

After my experience was over I was rinsed off with the ‘Fire hose of Splash-ma-tron’ and informed that I was finally being taken to view the Cult’s ‘higher purpose’. I was then led into a room packed with sophisticated technology and radar equipment

The Host then mimed to me that the higher Giant worshippers had been attempting for the last few years to take over control of the Hubble telescope, so they could convert it into a massive projector, which could cover the night sky over Western Europe with detail’s of the sweetcorn-in-a-can Lord’s teachings…and also some competitively priced advertising space (with the right product placement contracts).

I was then introduced to Mosesolina (or Mo for short). She was a techie working on the project and was fist-bitingly beautiful. I instantly fell in love and asked what I could do to assist her work. As she popped her hand up my smock and tickled my gentlemen’s vegetables she calmly replied ‘Nowt just yet…maybe later’.

Although I was entranced by her beauty, I was distracted by a little red flashing light above the console panel and I enquired to Mo what it meant. Mo immediately leapt over and shut the machine down. She then explained as she thanked me profusely that the warning light meant that they were being tracked by NASA…and if I hadn’t alerted her our whole operation would have been discovered.

That would have resulted in her expulsion from the order; following her punishment of the ‘Biblical bum rape by Blood Orange’ which is an experience few have survived…and even fewer enjoyed.

As a ‘thank you’ for my sharp eyed chivalry, Mo reached into her pocket and presented me with a present…

It was a Polo…Her blessed ‘last Polo in the packet’ in fact – and it was her most treasured possession…her one sacred memory from the outside world and her escapism from constant sweetcorn. As she handed it to me I realised once and for all that I should leave the cult and try and re-integrate into the general public again.

So I made good my escape…but sadly...I never saw Mo again…

The experience is now just a distant memory, but I have the Polo mounted in a trophy cabinet to this day, (although it’s gone a bit dusty and rank), and it will always remembered as:

‘Mime-host Gaul-Hubble Mo-mint’

I’ll never look at sweetcorn the same way again I can tell you…
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 12:06, 11 replies)
When I was but a little Spimf there were only 3 terrestrial TV channels in the UK. Late night and breakfast television only existed in a space age ‘Tomorrows World’ future where we would all wear shiny white jumpsuits and drive around in hover our cars chomping on space food.

Saturday morning TV was a big deal in the 70’s – on Auntie Beeb you had the safe and dull Mulitcoloured Swap Shop with the towering cuntage of Noel Edmonds – well as much as a bearded proto Beadle midget in stack heels can tower. However on the ‘other side’ you had the unbridled chaos that was Tiswas. For kids that grew up in the seventies Tiswas was the nuts – parents feared it’s anarchic pie flinging tomfoolery, while school playgrounds across the length and breadth of the nation rang with cries of ‘Compost Corner’ and kids writhed on the floor doing the ‘Dying Fly’.

I wont bother trying to explain the format of the show, if you don’t know it:


One day a letter arrived addressed to 'Master Spimf Esq.' – immediately I knew this was from my rather exotic aunt from ‘down south’ who worked ‘in TV’, inside was an invite to join the audience of Tiswas!

Fuck. Me.

For two weeks I ran around my school telling EVERYONE I would be on the show. I could barely sleep at night. Finally the day came. To be on ‘the set’ was fantastic. I nearly fell over when Sally James ruffled my hair and said I was a ‘nutter’. That was my cue – I did my level best to show off and act up as much as possible in front any camera I could - shouting random stuff and generally being a cocky little shit. The producer asked if I wanted to ‘take part in a link’. I had no clue what that was but boy was I up for it. Basically they wanted to have me stand on a small podium and deliver the line ‘and now it's time more rubbish’ while they pelted me with.. well, rubbish. For reason unknown they also wanted me to put on this ridiculous foam seagull costume – which I still remember the foul smell of to this day. It was also a complete bastard to move about in.

So there I am – little Mr Cocky Kickers standing on my podium waiting on my big moment. I could envisage all my little mates: lime green with envy as they saw me, live on the coolest thing on telly. I would easily be the coolest kid in school.

Then it came – I got the nod to deliver my line straight to camera.

Naturally my arse collapsed and I froze like a deer in the headlamps. Dead air.

A small silent twat in a seagull suit was beamed to a bewildered nation.

Suddenly, some cunt throwing a bucket of freezing cold water straight in my face broke the spell – such was the nature of the show. I was so shocked I started to cry. I tried to wipe my face, but couldn’t move in the stupid fucking bird suit, lost my footing, wobbled and flailed in a vain attempt to stay upright on the wet podium - then fell flat on my arse. The whole studio fell apart, as no doubt did 8 million viewers. Humiliation was not the word, in fact - Tiswas, my moist gull wobble moment!
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 11:54, 4 replies)
Daddy or chips?
When I was a kid, whenever we had chips, my dad would look out the window and shout "hey look, a tiger!". Every damn time, I would run to the window, only to have him says "it saw you move and ran away". When I got back to the table, there would mysteriously be less chips on my plate. fell for that for years.

And I genuinely believed that my nan gave away her evil old cat, Boris, to an old lady who was very lonely. Every time I thought about this over the 20 years or so I believed it, I became quite sad about the whole thing. Not because I missed the psycho ginger cat, but because of the fact that there were people that lonely in the world. It was only the episode of Friends where they talk about dogs "going to a farm" that made me realise I had been duped for decades.
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 11:36, 1 reply)
The Princess Bride
The Princess Bride is one of my absolute favourite films. I love it. I was really excited to pick up a copy of the book and read it.

It's one of those books that have the author talking about his real life in between telling us the story. So Goldman told us about his wife and his son and how he wrote the book and took it to Hollywood etc.

Part of the way through all this he began to mention the two countries from the film a lot, Florin and Guilder, as if they were real countries. For instance, he said that he had ancestors in one of the countries and later in the book he had a research trip to Florin.

Instead of then doing a double take and realising that the allegedly non-fiction parts of the book were as made up as the story, my mind took the other route and wondered at how I had managed to reach the age of thirty something without ever hearing of these two countries. I think I may have mentioned this to a few of my friends.

It was some while after I finished the book before I read something on the web that showed me the error in my thinking.
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 11:33, Reply)
Around Easter 2006, my grandmother began to lose her marbles, and by the autumn of that year she was in secure kennels, having lost all contact with the world around her.

Like my mother (qv), she had been vulnerable to the odd wind-up while she was compos mentis, and I saw no reason why her mental degeneration should get in the way of that.

My parents and I were going to spend Christmas at my brother's, and we popped in to see her en route. While we were there, the carers told the residents that they'd be having a Christmas meal downstairs soon. On the whole, this was met with blank looks. But something twigged with my grandmother. "Downstairs?" she asked, puzzled.
I confirmed that this was to be the case, and that they'd be able to get downstairs because the first floor of the home was on hydrulics; the whole thing'd be lowered down to ground level.

My grandmother looked me in the eye. For just a second, she was stone-cold sane, and was having none of this.
"You are a daft bugger," she said.

They were her first coherent words for 18 months, and, as far as I know, the last sensible thing she said before she died.

Not so gullible, after all.
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 11:28, 3 replies)
Out drinking bourbon with friends one night, under a huge moreton bay fig tree, i spot what looks like bourbon spatters on the back of my hand. I ask my mate Rab what does she think it looks like. "Bourbon" she replies, "just lick it off the back of your hand." So I do. I then ask "Rab why does this taste like tree sap???" sniggering bitch then lets me know we're sitting right under where bats are feeding, and I"ve just eaten batshit. Nice. I got her back, though. I convinced her that a huge bathroomplug-shaped anchor in the harbour was a real plug, and if you managed to pull it out, all the water in the ocean would drain into it. She went and told her family, and they still bring it up 7 years on!
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 11:06, Reply)
Not my most gullible moment but worth a mention
I used to be a bit of a Trekkie but gradually my attention started to wane after a few lacklustre episodes of DS9 and the fact that I now had a girlfriend that hated the series. Some of my friends stuck with it and I would usually arrange to meet them at the pub once a week to hear what happened (A bit like I do nowadays with football).

As the entire series drew to a close a few mates were talking about what they thought would happen as a show finale . Amongst my mates was a bloke called Rob. He is a guy that QOTW was made for as I have an endless number of stories about him and his habits (He moved in with me for a few months and it was a few months I will never forget). Rob was never the sharpest knife in the drawer and would never take anyone else's opinion at hand in an argument (The Michael Jackson invented dance argument is still a nasty topic of conversation 4 years later).

Anywhoo, we were sat round the table and Ben (another mate of mine) casually mentions that he has heard from a decent source that they were planning on having an old minor part character called Gul ible coming back and killing off the cardassian Dukat.

We laughed at the joke and carried on our conversation.

A few months later and DS9 has ended, I pop down the local a little late for once and find my mates pissing themselves at Rob. This is nothing unusual but for once Rob seemed genuinely angry. I couldn't get nothing from anyone else as they were too busy laughing at him so I asked Rob. Turns out that he believed Bens story a while back and refused to believe that it was a pun, even after I had explained it to him. Rob then left the pub, went home and searched through all available resources he knew to find the character called Gul ible (Just to prove his point).

I still dont know if he gets the joke to this day. Some people are permanently gullible.
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 10:35, Reply)
I believed Iraq had WOMD that could launch in 45 mins.
So much so that I stayed home when everyone else marched to stop us going to war. I also bought a selection of short films that were under 45 mins so I'd have something to watch before we all get killed.
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 10:25, 1 reply)
My mum
I asked her if she'd like to see my new magic trick and as per usual she was willing to partake.
It involved filling two pint glasses with water and getting her to place her hands up on top of the fridge.
I then balanced each glass on the back of her hands and walked out the door with a cheery "See you later, have fun!"
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 10:24, Reply)
My girlfriend is rather gullible but adorable. We were lucky enough to be comped free tickets to Wimbledon, centre court, this July just gone - corporate hospitaility, the works.

Sitting in our seats waiting for play to begin, we were reading the programme for the day's play. All the best known players were listed with their stats - height, weight ranking, etc. A few players also has "2HB" listed next to their names. My girlfriend asked what this was - I said it was their favourite pencil - a trivia question they have historically asked all Wimbledon players. She simply nodded and read on.

I still don't think I've told her it stands for two-handed backhand.
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 10:23, Reply)
For many years
I laboured under the misapprehension that Ted Heath the bandleader and Ted Heath the politician were one and the same person, because I'd been told this was the case at a young age.

In fact, it was only a couple of years back that I found out the truth. From my mother.

Suckered for 30 years. Bah.
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 10:17, 3 replies)
When I was a young \'un
My mother always told me that when the ice cream van played music it meant that it had run out of ice cream.

I can forgive her though as she also made me believe that the cats eyes in the road are operated by dwarfs in tunnels who run in front of your car at night and shine torches up through small holes in the road. I don\'t mind falling for this one as I think the world would be a better plac if it was true.
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 10:15, 1 reply)
most gullible
first posting, so please be gentle with me..

I was told, when at school, that if you fed pepper to pigeons that they would blow up if they flew above a certain height. Limewater had the same effect but they didn't need to take off, all they had to do was move. I believed that for years.

My Mum told me that the chicken we ate on Sunday was not the same chicken that ran about in a farmyard, it was grown specially in a field.
No wonder is there I ended up like I did....
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 10:12, 2 replies)
Mortal Kombaaaaaat
When this game first come out, everyone seemed to be woo'ed by it's awesome graphics (for the time) and violence not seen this side of a Ukraine minefield. The Megadrive version is released and there's deathmoves galore and bucketfulls of the red stuff per fight. Us saps who owned the politically correct SNES however were not so lucky. The SNES game loads up and instead of blood we had grey coloured blood splat out of them instead. What...what was that, spit? Wtf? I've spent good money on this? Damn cotton-wool console, I despair at times.
So for weeks we played this and was subjugated to abuse from people who owned the far superior Megadrive edition. Damn them....
A computer magazine at the time called "NMS" (Nintendo Magazine System) was running, and they knew our frustration. They shared our pain. One of the coolest games on the planet is out and SNES owners have not got the good stuff. So they contacted Midway and then....result! In one month's edition there was a 2 page spread showing the official cheat and screenshots of the cheat in action. As well as showing the normal death moves it also shows a screenshot of the two bosses being used (Goro and Shang Tsung) and Goro ripping Shang Tsung in half. Oh yes, fuck you Sonic-bummers, we got the bollocks right here.
So the code was read and I learnt the button presses. I power up the cartridge, slam in the buttons with a feeling of pride, and nothing. Wtf? I restart the cartridge, wait for the correct screen to load up, hammer in the buttons again, nout. Nada. Bugger all. I check the buttons. Nope, I'm doing it correctly. I read the article again and then come across a strange thing written on it. "If the cheat does not work, you may have a 2nd batch copy of the game. What you will need to do is to cellotape a 1p piece to the side of the cartridge, plus fooling the game into thinking it is a 1st edition." That was when the penny dropped. Oh you fuckers. You utter utter fuckers. Those Sonicers are going to be laughing now. I read the full article and at the end was a small note saying "If you have any problems, please contact us on this number on the first Thursday of next month". A quick glance at the calendar and my fears were confirmed. April the fucking 1st. Bastards.
I part-exed the game the next day and got Final Fight instead. Damn fine.
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 10:07, 4 replies)
Anyone who has worked with a YTS'er would understand this.
One of the most important lessons of experience within a work environment is the ability to learn to think rationally and act upon it with good judgement ie "thinking on your feet". This one skill is primarily paramount to one's progression through life, let alone your career in question. It is to us, "The Experienced"tm to guide them through their first 2 weeks of the rest of their lives and we do this through the use of sheer abuse and gullibility.
An old shop I used to work in did lots of these, plus also took part in helping out other workplaces in their efforts to educate too.
For example we organized the YTS (Youth Training Scheme for non-Britannias) agent in Halfords to answer the phone and we had him running around their warehouse looking for brakes for a jetski. He needed to learn that life is cruel and was thus taught.
In our old workplace though, YTS'ers were put through what we liked to call "The Gullibility Factor". We had him fixing a one-entrance window display at the front of the store and he didn't twig when everyone else left the window and stood there smiling on the shop floor that we weree obviously going to lock him in there for a good 1/2 hour. And stick signs on the window outside asking not to feed the animals. It's now an obviously dangerous sitution and the YTS'er is now aware.
It probably didn't help that we sent him to the OAP woman chemist next door and asked him to pick up the suppositories, but ask for the extra-large ones. He come back in 5 minutes later with a look on his face that said it all. Thus the flock was educated.
So if you have ever been the victim of the work-related practical joke, do not despair. They are not bullying you, oh no. They are simply teaching you lessons in life. One day you will learn that they are not targeting you because they don't like you, it's just because you are there. Once you can identify the clues as to a gullibility prank beforehand, then you are able to spread the teachings yourself and can join the ranks of "The Experienced".

NB This is not to be confused with office-rape though, that can never be justified. Unless of course she was asking for it :p
(, Tue 26 Aug 2008, 9:10, Reply)

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