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This is a question I'm going to Hell...

...because I said the Lord's Prayer backwards at a funeral to summon up the Goat of Mendes, Freddie Woo tells us. Tell us why you're doomed.

Thanks to Kaol for the suggestion

(, Thu 11 Dec 2008, 13:09)
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This question is now closed.

I'm so going to hell.
Theres a number of reasons why I'm going to hell. As a child, I'd do some quite hurrendous things.

When we were kids, we'd point and laugh when we saw an ambulance go by with sirens blaring.

I used to have a fascination on who people would rather die. "Who would you rather die? Your mum or your dad?" I asked that question to many people hoping for a good explanation also.

We came back to Junior school after a holiday. Hadnt even got in the class room when some kid came up to me? "Guess what? Stephen Ward is dead" Poor kid got hit by a bus. And what was my response? Thats right? I laughed. I didnt want to smile, but my mouth muscles just moved and I couldnt control it. You can bet that made me popular.

I did have a morbid fasination with death. After watching Casualty on the TV, I'd ask my mum "who died?" It got to the end without seeing whether they died or not!

Recently my grandad has been having a series of mini strokes. I emailed my mum asking for some christmas gift ideas, and put "I was thinking of getting Grandad a cat so he could stroke it.. get it?" Umm. havnt had a reply yet.

Swearing in church? Yup all the time, in fact for some ungodly reason my profanities seem to increase the moment i'm insight of a church. I think the whole, "Youre not supposed to swear" thing makes me subconsciously swear more.

When i used to get told off I couldnt help but laugh. I'm still the same now. But back then I really really couldnt control it. Which would lead them to getting more angry at me and me laughing even more. It was just some wiered head thing. I didnt want to laugh, just couldnt help it.

See you on the train to hull guys.
(, Mon 15 Dec 2008, 19:08, Reply)
I am a very nasty person.

I was going to tell you about the lesson where I told a group of 11 year olds that the pictures on the screen were drawn by a little man who lived in the box (I am an ICT teacher.) I was also going to relate how, at the end of the lesson, I forgot to tell them it was a joke. I'm not going to tell you that one.

A small child at school today lost part of her finger when it was trapped. I was talking to the colleague who told me about it when I then remembered that I teach her.

"Well," I said. "I'll tell her to pull her finger out in my lesson tomorrow if she doesn't work hard enough."

That kid was still bleeding when I said that, they hadn't even gone to the hospital yet. Although the finger was on ice, it was still warm.

My colleague guffawed. I turned pale as I realised that I am now, irrevocably, destined for hell.

I deserve it.

Edit. (and while I wrote this she was probably undergoing surgery for it)
(, Mon 15 Dec 2008, 18:43, Reply)
I watched the Special Olympics
just to laugh!
(, Mon 15 Dec 2008, 17:54, 10 replies)
Not hell, but heaven
I stole appropriated a 6ft rubber devil that was attached to the wall in a goth pub*.

I subsequently left it on the tube on the way home so if anyone saw a 6ft devil sat in an empty tube carriage traveling towards Morden around a year ago, then I am eternally sorry for any distress caused.

* pub name omitted as I hear they're still a bit upset.
(, Mon 15 Dec 2008, 17:54, Reply)
My nephew, a b3tan, kidnapped Jesus
from outside a church.

Someone must've grassed him up because the Bill visited and found Mr Christ safe and well watching TV on Nephew's sofa, with a fag in his gob and a can of beer to hand.

It wasn't the actual Jesus, of course - just a lifesize statue. Still, bad enough. Made the local papers.
(, Mon 15 Dec 2008, 17:15, 2 replies)
I dont for one minute believe I'm going to hell for smiting God-botherers
but here is my story of having done so to join the many which have gone before -

Some context: my brother's web handle is DROC. He likes to walk around naked.

So, during one of my many sojourns in Paris with DROC when he was still a single (ish) man living in a 5th floor Parisian hovel where the dining space was the staging area for a stand off between the poo clouds from the seldom functioning toilet and the booty schtank from the Droc’sters pit, there came a knock-knock-knocking upon his door.

I said,

“DROC, pray tell me this and no more,
Who could be a-knock-knocking upon your door?”

And DROC he did answer,

“Not now nor before
did I know nor will I til I answer my door!”

Now the day it was hot and no amount of air
Nor water could temp DROC from walking round bare

Save for flimsy old pants that he wore so that I
Would not run the risk of losing an eye!

So he raised from his pit with his gonads a-dangle,

I said,

“Brother! Your modesty’s subject to scandal!

Better tuck in those fellas! Maybe chuck on a shirt!”
When from under the door came a-sliding a certain

Publication entitled ‘The Watchtower’. Yes!
The odious, God bothering proselyte wretches

Had found us quite drunk and yet resolute.
DROC opened the door to a black girl, quite cute

With a few words of English and a devilish smile.
She appeared undaunted by DROC’s cavalier style.

She told him she’d seen his name on the bell
and smiling, revealed, that from this she could tell

he was English, when suddenly, up from his stupor,
did bazman arise and acquire powers super!

Baz’ spidey sense knew there was evil a-lurking.
His beloved brother was in danger of church-ing!

So baz grabbed ‘The Watchtower’ from his poor brothers hand
And jammed it back into the claws of those damned

Pretty churchgoing zealots who flatter to please
But unaided by clamps will not open their knees!

Nor will they ever be first at the bar!
baz invoked the spirit and cast them afar

From DROC’s door and then slammed it and here I conclude.
DROC told me I shouldn’t have been quite so rude.

I said,

“Dude, are you joking, standing there in your keks?
At least when I smote them, I was fully dressed!”.

(, Mon 15 Dec 2008, 16:56, 2 replies)
Not only am I on the books for a trip to hell but my kids are also on their way thanks to me.
Thanks to my sick sense of humour my kids have followed suit and until this weekend I didn’t realise how much they were like me. We were in the living room setting up the Christmas tree and other tacky decorations associated with the season when the music channel put the video for Fairytale of New York on (The one sung by the Pogues and Kirsty MacColl).

Midway through the song my son (The eldest 7 years and a one most like me) looked at me and said “what this song needs is a speedboat….just about now Vrooooom (The moment Kirsty MacColl appeared onscreen).

The wife sat there in silence, I was pissing myself and was later banned from telling my son of any more amusing deaths.
(, Mon 15 Dec 2008, 16:55, Reply)
My youth
A few times in my youth I would tell mom I was going to youth club at the church. then I'd meet at the park with all my mates and we'd spend all evening doing boys stuff in the neighborhood. Stealing hubcaps, breaking off mercedes emblems and we once managed to rip off the porche emblems off the bonnet of two different cars. You really have a bit more respect for car builders when you realise how hard they are to pull apart. I also recall pouring some flammable substance onto the motorway and lighting it so we had a wall of flames across the road 2 metres high. It didn't burn for very long so that was a very time consuming past-time so we soon gave that up.

The little pellet gun we had also came in handy and together with our bicycles we became a surprisingly mobile crack shooter squad in our neighbourhood. We were the defenders and saviour in our rough part of town. Yeah right, in reality we just rode around and shot people in the arses and then sped off on our bikes while laughing our heads off. These happy days eventually ended when we became complacent and started shooting people from my friends garden and some brainy victims were able to trace our location by the sight of us climbing out of the tree and running into the house.

Can you believe I'm actually a responsible citizen now?
(, Mon 15 Dec 2008, 16:45, Reply)
Hell for biccies
I liked the iced shortie biscuits at Sunday school so licked them when all the other good little childers were praying. Mwah ha ha ha haaaa!
(, Mon 15 Dec 2008, 16:44, Reply)
I was confirmed
when i was 13. I said this joke to the person next to me in Guildford cathedral, who was next in line to be done:

"What's this"?
*stick arms out to sides and bend backwards and forwards*
"Jesus on a bendy cross".

He didn't find it funny and I doubt God did either.
(, Mon 15 Dec 2008, 16:30, 5 replies)
Small little lie
Said to the girl I worked with while I was convincing her to have sex with me, "Of course we'll still be friends afterwards".

The friendship lasted for another handjob before I realised I missed her as a friend and we'd ruined it all. NOT. Haha...I didn't really like her much anyway and her English was rubbish so it would never have worked.

Later God punished me and I was forced into a 7 yr relationship of which 3 included an actual marriage.
(, Mon 15 Dec 2008, 16:20, Reply)
I've covered the bases...
By all rights - if you believe in such things - I'm probably going to hell. However - I have a plan =)

I used to, on a regular basis, make bets for or just generally trick, bully, or mess with people until they signed little slips of paper which, according to the power of the ever binding contract - signed over their souls.

I have a pile of little slips where people signed possession of their souls over to me in return for...

a beer
a magic card
access to the loo
me not bothering them about it anymore
a good back rub
to prove they didn't believe in souls
evidence of their undying love
as protection (satan can't take their soul - I have prior claim!)
a laugh
dibs on the hot girl
just cause it was something to do
as part of a party game ("it's like charades, here - first you sign over your soul...")

I've done this to friends, to people I've just met on a night out, and - my favorite - often tried it (with some success) with the people I sit next to on an airplane. I'm not particularly evil looking - but I hope some of them, in later years, wondered about the young man who asked them what it'd take for them to sign over their soul...

I figure - when I arrive in hell - I'll either have some souls to use as servants, or - with luck - they'll be worth something and I'll have a little bargaining power.

Wonder what the going rate for a nice beach front property in hell is?

Alternately - may I recommend:

I always have about 50 on me in a coat pocket, I like to give them to people I see having a really horrible day - a store clerk who just got bitched out, the waitress at the end of a double shift - whenever someone's in a bad spot - sometimes it cheers them up a bit =)

Others look at me like they're worried I'm a loon who's gonna ask them about their plans for the afterlife =)
(, Mon 15 Dec 2008, 16:02, 4 replies)
christmas eve, many years ago.
we were all at the pub in stockport, happily drinking. not wanting to end the festive festivities when the pub threw us out at midnight, we carried on carousing all the way up the road to my friend sam's house, which was about a 2 mile walk. it was freezing and wet, but we had cold beer in our hands and warm beer coats on our backs, and so we didn't really notice. we were all pretty leathered, but as always, sam was the most spectacularly leathered of all.

suddenly, sam froze. like a pointer dog, she homed in on the massive church opposite us, which was clearly in the throes of midnight mass.

"i want to go to mass!" she announced, and shot off across the a6.

we all looked at each other, suddenly feeling more sober. it was already 12:30am and clearly midnight mass was halfway through. we were not going to be popular. we headed after sam, shouting loudly after her, until we realised just how loudly the words "get your arse back here you drunken twat" ring around a graveyard. by the time we caught up with her, she was jumping up and down, trying to see through the window. as the windows were quite far above her head, anyone lucky enough to have been looking out of them would have been treated to the sight of her woolly hat bobbling in and out of sight.

giving it up as a bad job, but managing to elude capture, sam then ran round to the front of the church. she hammered on the huge wooden double doors, and then realised that she could just push them open. which she did, flinging them open with a massive clattering sound and a: "fuck me that was heavy" followed by a pointless: "ssssssh mustn't swear in church!"

the entire congregation turned around to peer at the untimely interruption that had appeared in the doorway, the vicar frozen with the heavenly host wafers suspended in mid air. everyone glared at us as we followed sam sheepishly to creep around to an empty standing space at the back of the church. how quietly can several very drunken girls in high heels on a tiled floor manage this? not at all, you may be surprised to hear. nor can they sing in tune, nor stand properly upright.

of course, 2 mins later, sam decided that she had had enough religious culture for one year and wanted to clatter out again...
(, Mon 15 Dec 2008, 15:48, 4 replies)
I'm actually looking forward to going to Hell...
After all, with all these reality TV shows going on literally 24/7 the change of scenery with boiling lava and a white hot poker up the ass* would be bliss.

*not meant in a gay way I hasten to add.
(, Mon 15 Dec 2008, 15:45, 2 replies)
A recent one...
On Friday night I was out in the pub with a friend, having a good few drinks and a laugh.

He's not a smoker, so I popped out-side for a quick one while he got some more drinks in.
Just as I leaned against the wall, my phone started ringing, so I answered it.

It was my rubbish ex, who I had no desire to talk to, for various reasons.
Being a bit drunk I defaulted to being pissed off at this intrusion to an otherwise enjoyable evening.

"What is it?" I said.

"Where are you, can you talk now?" She replied.

"I'm having a cigarette. Before you go on about it, I don't give a fuck if I get lung cancer, everyone has to die of something."

"I just phoned to tell you that my Mum has been diagnosed with terminal lung cancer..."
And with that she hung up.

I felt pretty bad about that for a while.
Then I had another cigarette and some more alcohol, and all was well with the world again.
(, Mon 15 Dec 2008, 15:36, 3 replies)
In my early 20's (again) I was a bit mental!
So much so that a couple of "friends" tried to get me sectioned, for the fun of it!

I got my own back by giving the police a tip that there was going to be a big drugs deal happening at one of they're houses at a time I knew they were both going to be there!

The police turned up, searched the house, found their drugs and arrested them! The each got two years suspended!
(, Mon 15 Dec 2008, 15:30, 5 replies)
Many years ago
on christmas eve, did a few cheeky lines on a gravestone in the church next to the pub. My mate asked 'What's that noise?'. I listened and thought I heard singing. Turns out it was Midnight Mass.
(, Mon 15 Dec 2008, 15:13, 2 replies)
I’m still remorseful over this.

I’m pretty sure that it’s the most despicable thing that I’ve ever done.

I was about 17, pissed as a fart and walking *see staggering* home around 2am one Monday morning when me and my boyfriend at the time decided to have some `fun’.

We both lived with our respective parents so heading home for some wasn’t an option. We stumbled into a doorway en route and I remembered that it was that time of the month and I was wearing a tampax.

Ashamedly, I was so battered that I just discarded it in the doorway and we got down to a bit of mucky business. I think I meant to put it in a tissue and bin it after we had finished but in my drunken stupor I forgot.

All of this dawned on the next morning as I caught the bus into town and saw the building/doorway where we got down and dirty.

It was a Kindergarten centre and not just any kindergarten centre….it was a Christian one!

I’m definitely going to HELL!

I’m not sorry to God at all (that would be silly as I don't believe in him) but I am sorry to whoever opened the kindergarten that Monday morning!
(, Mon 15 Dec 2008, 15:01, 4 replies)
Yeah, I'm hellbound.
This weekend my daughter and I took my elderly Siamese cat to the vet because he's been clawing at a spot on his neck and has opened up a raw area there. We took him to the office who has seen him before- a veterinary office that's apparently staffed entirely by women.

The vet's assistant who was interviewing me about the cat was in her late forties, I would guess- around my age or a little older. I gave her what info I could about the cat, but admitted ignorance on a few issues as I had only had the cat for less than two years. "He belonged to the woman who lived with me, but when she moved downtown I agreed to keep him at my house."

The assistant gave me an odd look and gave my daughter an even stranger look, then went out to consult with the vet.

My daughter looked at me. "Dad? Why did she smile at me like that?"

"I have no idea."

A few minutes later the assistant entered with the vet, a small woman of about the same age. She looked up at me through her glasses and looked at my daughter and said, "Matching metal!"

I looked blankly at her. "Huh?"

She looked more closely at us, then said, "Oh, yours is in your ear and hers is in her lip. Nevermind."

Piercings. Suddenly something clicked in my mind.

She went on to tell us how the cat apparently had an allergy that was causing him to scratch like this, addressing my daughter as much as me, and told her how to treat the cat. When she finished I said in my driest voice, "By the way, that's not my girlfriend, that's my daughter."

The vet looked a little flummoxed for a moment, but then recovered and said, "Nice to meet you." She then finished discussing the cat with me, and I noticed that the assistant looked a little uncomfortable.

The hell-worthy part? My daughter later told me that she found this to be incredibly creepy. I replied that I thought it rather flattering, and laughed. Apparently it's thought that I could pull a very young one.

I don't think my daughter saw the humor.
(, Mon 15 Dec 2008, 15:00, 6 replies)
I am going to hell
Because I impregnated your dad.
Yeah that shut you up.
(, Mon 15 Dec 2008, 14:44, Reply)
I am going to hell.

I just used the word 'frolleague' in a serious context. Thankfully the 'frolleague' in question wasn't a 'frupervisor'.
(, Mon 15 Dec 2008, 14:29, 5 replies)
'and i say to ye that any man,who does not hate his father and mother,and his siblings,and his fellow man,and yea,even himself,can be no disciple of mine.'
- luke,14:26

I like to think i'm doing the lord's work.
(, Mon 15 Dec 2008, 14:21, Reply)
For asking this question...
"Has a woman ever actually enjoyed being raped? As in, she was taken by surprise- but it had been a while, and she found herself getting into a little bit...suddenly she finds herself on top and really going for it, much to the bemusement of her attacker...?"

It must have happened once, right?
(, Mon 15 Dec 2008, 14:18, 14 replies)
The Matthews family
I happened to have half an eye on the news when the Karen Matthews verdict was reported a couple of weeks ago.

It was at lunchtime; I spent the rest of the day trying to figure out how I'd have done it better. I couldn't see a way for the child to survive.

Oh, come on. I'm not the only one.
(, Mon 15 Dec 2008, 14:08, 7 replies)
Cashing in on Jonny
I once killed a man in Reno just to see him die...

... also I tells lies
(, Mon 15 Dec 2008, 13:58, 5 replies)
Biblical precedent for human cloning
I'm going to Hell for explaining that as you could clone someone from a cell from your ribs, you could consider the Adam and Eve story as just an example of human cloning.

Explaining this to a Vicar and having him umm and err about his own beliefs is probably a pretty bad thing to do in the eyes of the subject of those beliefs...
(, Mon 15 Dec 2008, 13:50, 3 replies)

This question is now closed.

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