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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)
Pages: Latest, 22, 21, 20, 19, 18, ... 1

This question is now closed.

I think my "religion is bullshit" tshirt
might have done the trick
(, Thu 18 Dec 2008, 6:33, 1 reply)
i'm going to hell because that's where all the sane, sensible, fun people are.
my morals are very much in opposition to a great deal of what the big three monotheistic religions teach, so i'd rather go to their hells than simper around in their paradises with the witless sycophants and obsequious toadies who follow all the rules that generally just undermine the human spirit and my idea of goodness.
(, Thu 18 Dec 2008, 6:17, 1 reply)
I'm probably going to offend victims of the Nazis, opponents of the Nazis, and Nazis.
A US bakery has refused to decorate a three-year-old's birthday cake with his name - Adolf Hitler Campbell.

The trouble, the New Jersey shop said, was that it was "inappropriate" to put such a name on the cake.

But the little boy's father, Heath Campbell, said it was unfair of ShopRite supermarket to turn down his request.

Heath Campbell said he named his son after Adolf Hitler because he liked the name and because "no one else in the world would have that name".

Referring to the baker's decision, he said: "They need to accept a name. A name's a name.

"The kid isn't going to grow up and do what Hitler did."

But the problem does not stop there.

The shop has also refused to make a cake for Mr Campbell's second child, who turns two next February.

Her name is JoyceLynn Aryan Nation Campbell.

Heath and Deborah Campbell's third child will probably not get a cake from that shop either.

The eight-month-old baby has been named Honszlynn Hinler Jeannie Campbell, apparently a reference to one of the Nazi's most monstrous leaders, SS head Heinrich Himmler.

For the time being, the matter has been settled - the Campbells had their cake made by Wal-Mart.

The father should just make his own cake.

He'd need some WHITE FLOUR!

Although he'd probably deny it had gone in the oven.
(, Thu 18 Dec 2008, 4:01, 1 reply)
A couple of years ago..
I was in Waterstones and found a sheet of those 'signed by the author' stickers. I stole it and proceeded to stick it on every copy of the Bible that they had in there.

And also - using the idea taken from Ross Noble - when in London last year there was a copy of the Bible in the bedside drawer at the hotel I was staying at. So, on the inside of the cover I wrote "Enjoy the read. All the best, love God xx".
(, Thu 18 Dec 2008, 1:15, 4 replies)
They're not fans of The Killers.
In 2003, I had a large e-business project to complete for college. I was the only one in class who cared about it, and as such, devoted each Wednesday morning (day off) to writing out a large evaluation of e-business platform usage within contemporary England.

So one Wednesday morning I'm sitting at home typing up this assignment while reading my notes from an A4-sized pad. The doorbell chimes and I wander downstairs and look through the spyhole in the door.

I see two men in black wearing name badges. I immediately think the police have arrived for some reason and open the door. Thankfully, it was just a couple of Mor(m)ons. Now, I'm very polite towards most people and don't feel annoyed at them for interrupting my college coursework. They're just trying to make everyone as happy as they are. Aww.

"Hi there. Do you have five minutes to talk about God?"

At this point I gesture towards the stairs. "Sorry folks. I'm a little busy with college work at the moment." I said. I held my A4 pad to my chest for effect. When they saw the pad they became a little flustered. One wanted to leave a pamphlet, but the other just tried to make him leave as soon as possible. I thought it was a strange reaction, but said goodbye and went to the kitchen for a drink. When I put the pad on the countertop I realised the reason for their consternation.

You see, at college I had absent-mindedly written the word KILL in huge black letters on the front of the pad and held it up for them to see while telling them that I was otherwise engaged.

(, Wed 17 Dec 2008, 23:19, 1 reply)
this happened today
Ok here goes. Theres this teacher in my college, shes really fine .
For a joke my mate changed my bluetooth name to her name , saying miss arnott (name changed) is really fit.

I was playing some rnb tune on my phone , and she wanted me to send it to her, I told her what I thought my bluetooth name was. Then when she said she couldnt find it, we both clocked what it had been changed to.

There was this shocked look on her face, she stopped drinking her mineral water, and carried on like nothing happened. But she held me back after class.

After class, she made me wait for her to finish her salmon sandwich before she would talk to me. Then she said it was very innapropiate, and if it happened again, she would inform the deputy head.

Then I realised.

She was drinking mineral water.
She had been eating a salmon sandwich.

Miss arnott, was in fact, a bear.

She roared and lunged for me with her right paw, snarling at me as she jumped over the table.

The front of my jacket was torn to shreds as i scrambled backwards for the door. I only survived because, as she was standing over me, spittle covering her face, my mate ran in , distracted her with honey, then plunged his biro into her heart.

So yeah, we killed an endangered animal.
(, Wed 17 Dec 2008, 23:19, 13 replies)
United 93, AKA the September 11th film.
The passengers have overpowered the hijackers, but it's too late. The plane is heading into a nose dive from five thousand feet.

"This is it!" they scream.

Expectant mothers, crying husbands and wives desperately punching numbers for one last phone call, grown men wimpering and hugging, the torrent of children's screams as the plane hurtles towards the ground.


And just like that, it ends with a mighty crunch, a fireball, and the stench of burning flesh.


Now who let's out a Counterstrike-esque "Terrorists win!" at this point, in a packed theater of teary-eyed New Yorkers?

Go on, guess.
(, Wed 17 Dec 2008, 22:54, 9 replies)
I was talking about operations when at a friend's house
I was saying how I always use emla cream (that numbs your hand) before having the needle put in.

He asked if I'd thought about getting the mask.

'No', replies I, 'I feel like a Jew when they gas me.'

Then I remembered he was a Jew. Oops.
(, Wed 17 Dec 2008, 22:51, Reply)
In my defense, the bibles were better off in their new sections of the bookstore.
Indigo is Canada's most prominent bookstore chain, akin to stateside purveyors such as Barnes and Noble, selling everything from political treatises to new-age acupuncture schlock. The bookstore has always represented - at least to me - the democratic marketplace of ideas, where thoughts and arguments rise and fall on their merits. These arguments were very well classified by shelf: politics, business, inspirational stories, and the rest. But something was out of place, that my friends and I couldn't help but correct. The bibles, which span so many topics in the course of their thousands of pages, were relegated to a shelf of their own, separate from all the composite sub-topics that comprise their entirety.

Whether out of civic responsibility, or out of the resolute boredom of university students with nothing but time to kill during the summer, we took it upon ourselves to rectify this error. Surely it was an error.

To make a long story short, bibles that once filled a row found their respective ways to the shelves of such relevant topics as Fiction, Humour, Sexuality, Erotica, Cuisine, Parenting, Mental Disorder, Parapsychology and the Occult. In the bibles' place, the Bibles and Bible Studies section now holds one solitary copy of Sam Harris's treatise, Letter to a Christian Nation.

The whole thing ended up on PZ Myers' "Pharyngula" blog, as well as on the blog of one of the bookstore employees who had to clean my mess up

Basically; If there's a hell, I'll see you all there. BYOB.

(, Wed 17 Dec 2008, 22:33, Reply)
preparing for a night out with another deviant friend
we printed up a couple of photoshopped "JESUS SAYS, PAPA DON'T PREACH" pics with the beardy fella on the cross dying for our sins.

and some blu-tac

because the route home, after 10 pints each, involved a Luther-esque gesture of sticking them to every church door on the way home. How it didn't make the newspaper of the village I lived in I'll never know.
(, Wed 17 Dec 2008, 21:42, Reply)
Don’t have an Aneucardioepi
A couple of weeks back, me and a friend were chatting online via MSN. The topic was about computers as she and her bloke are on a mission to collect most types of console and computer system. She was hoping to win her bloke a Spectrum +3 for Xmas on eBay but was outbid at the last minute. Their place is full of consoles and computers of various systems old and new and is quite a collection.

We also stumbled across a site that was full of discontinued computer systems of days gone by (weirdly, we discovered there was a Commodore 65 that was never released, and a portable colour screen Commodore 64 which I think is called the SX64). A look on a certain popular video streaming website revealed old adverts for computer systems from back in the day. We discover a video of an American advertisement by a very excitable Steve Ballmer selling Windows 1.0.

The IM conversation went like this:

Me: Wow, he’s a bit excitable!
R: Yeah, just a bit
Me: He will give himself an aneurysm…
R: Or possibly a heart attack…
Me: Or maybe a aneurysm and a heart attack…
R: Or a heart attack and epileptic fit
Me: Maybe all three of them.
R: Yeah, he could have an Aneucardioepi

She rang up and we had tears in our eyes laughing at the portmanteau that she created from aneurysm, cardiac arrest, and epileptic fit. I had pains in my stomach from laughing at the combination she created, and sniggered about it for hours. It was one of those daft humourous things that if you thought about it a few days later in public walking around somewhere would make you snigger and get strange stares from strangers as you would look like a total mentalist sniggering at what the casual observer would assume was nothing.

Fast forward to this week.

I arrive at work one morning this week, and discovered that a work colleague had passed out in the warehouse before clocking off. He was discovered by another member of staff who tried to bring him around with CPR. It was too late, and the poor guy had passed away. If its your time to shuffle off the mortal coil, as always, The Reaper doesn’t give a stuff where you are, who you are, or what you are doing – if your number is up, then it’s, well…up.

I rang my friend this week for a natter after work, and conversation turns around to the unfortunate passing of said work colleague and what had happened. The guy in question was in his early 50’s, and was a big guy – a bit like Brian Blessed crossed with Rab C Nesbitt or something. He had epilepsy and was barred from driving due to having regular fits (he did have a nice burly 4x4 with chrome bull bars and spotlights on the top of the roof rack like some form of jungle safari wagon or something).
My work colleagues believe at this moment in time believe that he probably had an epileptic fit, which probably sparked off a heart attack at the same time, which seems highly likely. After explaining this to my friend, we suddenly realise a horrible thought:

The guy quite literally had what we had joked about a couple of weeks ago: An Aneucardioepi

We now feel quite horrible about laughing at the combination we created that probably did cause the guys death. I feel upset about the poor guy’s demise, and how his family are going to cope with what will be an awful Christmas for them.

This is probably on the top ten list of wrong things I am worthy of going to hell for,

RIP Arthur Sixpence (as he was referred to in jest by his work mates).
(, Wed 17 Dec 2008, 21:34, 7 replies)
the corruption of the sippy cup
recently on a holiday in florida i was on hol with my husband and our two friends both male.
we ventured out in our huge car for a trip to watch the shuttle launch at the kennedy space station.I opened the door just as a gust of wind hit the door and blew it into a car next door denting it(this is not the reason for writing this story but its kinda of naughty).
Alot of drinking was done by us not so much for the driver accept tons of grape soda.Shuttle launched we ran back to the car to get out before crowd also so driver of car i dented would not know it was us (told you it was naughty)

We head out but little did we know the road is one road in and out so we are stuck in traffic 1 hour into the journey one of the guys is starting to need the toilet the other quite drunk now also needs it there is nowhere to stop.
They have no choice but to look for a vessel to go in the only thing they can find is the childs sippy cup that they have been using to put grape soda in which they found in the villa we were renting.

Both of them took it in turns to fill the cup and throw the contents out the window the potent liquid hitting cars as we went by the cup was left in the car unwashed with some urine left in for another week.
no one would take it out on the last day its was dried with some toilet roll and placed carefully back in the cupboard from which it came.

So sorry to the sippy cup or newly dubbed pissy cup and to all who drink from her

RIP sippy cup we knew you well.

length :short but very drippy.
(, Wed 17 Dec 2008, 21:22, 5 replies)
if this guy isn't going to hell for doing this to his children, who is?! what a total and utter bellend.

it can be summarised as this:

3 year old - adolf hitler campbell
2 year old - joycelynn aryan nation campbell
baby - honszlynn hinler jeannie campbell

so far, the local bakery has refused to make little adolf a birthday cake. imagine what is going to happen to him when he gets to school!!

A US bakery has refused to decorate a three-year-old's birthday cake with his name - Adolf Hitler Campbell.

The trouble, the New Jersey shop said, was that it was "inappropriate" to put such a name on the cake.

But the little boy's father, Heath Campbell, said it was unfair of ShopRite supermarket to turn down his request.

Heath Campbell said he named his son after Adolf Hitler because he liked the name and because "no one else in the world would have that name".

Referring to the baker's decision, he said: "They need to accept a name. A name's a name.

"The kid isn't going to grow up and do what Hitler did."

But the problem does not stop there.

The shop has also refused to make a cake for Mr Campbell's second child, who turns two next February.

Her name is JoyceLynn Aryan Nation Campbell.

Heath and Deborah Campbell's third child will probably not get a cake from that shop either.

The eight-month-old baby has been named Honszlynn Hinler Jeannie Campbell, apparently a reference to one of the Nazi's most monstrous leaders, SS head Heinrich Himmler.

For the time being, the matter has been settled - the Campbells had their cake made by Wal-Mart.

(, Wed 17 Dec 2008, 20:04, 17 replies)
I let a man suck on my willy once.

(, Wed 17 Dec 2008, 20:02, 3 replies)
Call Centre
I work in a call centre and I pride myself on delivering the best service I can manage. As we are a good company, my fellow call centre monkeys and I are silent monitored every month, on five random telephone calls.

On my November monitoring, I scored 97% (forgot to check the packaging for a Boots order and forgot to offer another customer an order number). One of my colleagues then IMed me and asked me what my score was. When she asked what the other 3% was for, so I started to reply to her, then I stopped.

I thought to myself, "she's only 16, and game for a laugh but also a teensy bit gullible". This is a rough approximation of the IM transcript...

Me: [colleague doing the monitoring] caught me swearing at one of the customers.
16yo colleague: Really?
Me: Yup. I also told another one of them to fuck off, cut someone else off and told a third that we didn’t make the product she wanted, when we did.
16yoc: OMG.
Me: I know. I just couldn’t be bothered to help them. Feeling tired this afternoon really.
16yoc: What swear words did you use?
Me: I told the first one that they were a bit of a cunt, and said her colleagues were bitches too.
16yoc: Why?
Me: Because I felt like it. I was dragged upstairs to see HR too.
16yoc: What did they say?
Me: I got a written warning. I’m already on my last warning anyway.
16yoc: Why?
Me: I keep getting caught swearing at various customers.
16yoc: Wow.

Some time elapses then I start the IM up again.

Me: I was reading on the BBC website earlier that the word gullible is being removed from the next issue of the OED.
16yoc: Really?
Me: Yup.

More time passes.

Me: Do you really think I would score 97% if I even let one curse pass my lips on the ‘phone to a customer?
16yoc: Eh?
Me: Of course I wasn’t swearing at the customers! I just naffed up a Boots order a bit and forgot an order number!
16yoc: So none of that was true then?
Me: Of course not!
16yoc: You’re so horrible!
Me: I couldn’t resist it! You’re so easy to wind up! I tried to give you a clue with the gullible line as well! That’s an old joke to catch really gullible people out!
16yoc: I’m not talking to you anymore.

A short while later.

Me: Do you still hate me?
16yoc: No.
Me: Bless.

Ladies and gentlemen: I am going to burn in hell for this one and countless others. I can’t resist winding people up. Now get busy with the clicky!
(, Wed 17 Dec 2008, 19:18, 7 replies)
Hygiene and sex. Part II.
Earlier this year I was in a relationship that was... fleeting, shall we say. The sex was non-existent and in an attempt to add some flavour to our bedroom activities, I planted the seed of inquiry into her mind regarding anal sex. I'd done it before and found it to be most enjoyable. The women I've buggered? Not so much.

She agrees and a couple of weeks later we both run to bed very excited because she's really enjoying being anally violated. I skipped using protection this time (we were quite excited) and a good time was had by all.

After finishing this most sinful act sans condom, I have to wash myself. So I walk into her family bathroom and turn the light on to discover that I'm rather unclean downstairs and unfortunately, my knob won't reach the tap. I can't use the bath taps as it's 1AM and it would wake the rest of her family up. Thinking quickly, I realise that if I can't go to the water, then the water should come to me.

You know the small beaker people use to rinse their mouths out after brushing their teeth? I located it, removed the toothbrushes and filled it with water. After thoroughly rinsing my soiled apparatus in said cup I look at the water to discover that it resembles a weak beef broth replete with little pieces of shit. A faecal aquarium, if you will.

After which I tip the water into the sink, replace the toothbrushes and conveniently forget to wash / rinse / burn the cup.

It still makes me giggle to think of her parents brushing their teeth with some of their daughter's anal additive. They had a good sense of humour, so they wouldn't have minded so much.

And like most people here, I have defaced a copy of Gideon's Bible in school. It's a rite-of-passage thing, I think.
(, Wed 17 Dec 2008, 19:14, 6 replies)
I punch
(, Wed 17 Dec 2008, 18:57, 3 replies)
Many years ago, in a church hall far, far away...
... a friend of mine was setting up the sound system. All he needed to do to finish up was play a tape through it and adjust the speakers. So, he fished in his pocket, pulled out his Walkman, ejected his new AC/DC tape and popped it in the tape deck. The title track of the album boomed from the speakers, and said mate was pleased with the result.

Did he realise it as soon as he hit play? No, he realised when the minister appeared, somewhat irate.

I suspect he's well and truly on the Highway to Hell...
(, Wed 17 Dec 2008, 18:45, Reply)
Nobody done this yet?
Hell would be OK, but I like paradise better...
(, Wed 17 Dec 2008, 18:12, Reply)
So bad, so wrong
You have to laugh to make it go away.

A few years ago, Scope was running it's campaign to see the person before the disability. Quite right too.

So I'm on the train, roll in to Leeds, look across at the hoarding, which reads "Jimmy loves football, and is a Manchester Utd fan. He also has cerebral palsy" under which someone had written:

'Serves him fucking right.'

I laughed harder than I ever thought possible, made all the worse because I was on a trip with the kids from the special school I work at. Although, two of them found it funny too.

Length? They never complained.
(, Wed 17 Dec 2008, 17:26, 2 replies)
I have found that my tragic and ultimately fatal addiction to hard core drugs has helped me to kick my previous dependency on born again christianity.

On a serious note i save my worship for Thor. I figure he's as valid as the next god and if i get to go to Valhalla even better.
(, Wed 17 Dec 2008, 16:54, 3 replies)
You'd Think I'd Know Better
On the way back home from a particularly fine evening out I meet a couple of pals coming back from the boozer and club. Simon is a bit wasted and not going to make it to his place. Sure, he can crash at mine.

Reeking of booze, smoke and whatever else goes on at certain seedy nightclubs, Simon stinks the lift out. There is evidence of a Doner kebab.

Blaspheming and coughing loudly, we fall out of the lift and go into my flat. In my best Callan voice I say...

"You stink. You really do. Throw your clothes over there and get in that shower! Raus! Raus!"

As the Star Of David pendant shows through his shirt.

First class ticket to Hull please. Private car, free food and drink.
(, Wed 17 Dec 2008, 16:45, Reply)
A couple of years ago Kirsty mania was gripping Manchester, the appeal being reported in the news almost every week, especially around our way as that’s where she was based. Now being the lovely young ladies me and my housemate were we’d started wondering just what her appeal was and why exactly she was being photographed with everyone from David Beckham to Cherie Blair. The obvious answer being to raise awareness for her heart condition and the Hospice, but no, this was not good enough for us.

We simply branded her a tart and decided that to raise all that cash in such a short space of time she must be pimping herself out to make some money. We not only laughed so much our sides hurt at the thought, hint or mention of this to each other but started to cut out all the pictures in the paper and eventually made what can only be described as a “Kirsty Wall”.

We spotted her outside of the cinema, and in Sainsbury’s once or twice, this would usually be accompanied by a stealth photo being sent and a caption such as “free entrance to the cinema? She’ll be round the back with the Manager in five minutes”.

So laughing at a poor little girl who was born with her heart backwards is pretty much why I’m going to hell. Well that and using pages from my Mum’s old bible when I ran out of skins at an after party.
(, Wed 17 Dec 2008, 16:43, Reply)
I'm going because of this:
*sung to the tune of "Away In A Manger*

Away in a manger on somebody's lawn
the 40 watt Jesus glows through until dawn.
The soft glowing Santa looked down where he lay
the 40 watt Jesus ablaze in the hay.

Away in a manger in somebody's shed
the 40 watt Jesus still rests his glass head.
The tinfoil stars and the plastic reindeer
keep watch over Jesus the rest of the year.
(, Wed 17 Dec 2008, 16:27, 1 reply)
The Birthday Card
I was spending an evening in the company of a good friend of mine, Boris.

For some reason, we were debating what the best Birthday card ever would be.
In an uncharacteristic display of un-PC-ness, we decided that a picture of a gentleman afflicted with Downs syndrome, dropping a birthday cake, with the words "Happy Retard Day, You Fucking Loser", would be the pinnacle of Birthday greetings.

In an attempt to remember the text, Boris saved it to his phone, and we vowed to put them into production.

A few weeks later, we'd forgotten all about out multi-million-pound idea.
I got a call from Boris.

"Kaol, I've done something really stupid."

"Right... What is it this time?"

"Well, you know that card idea we had? I kinda sent the message with it saved in to someone."

"Oh... Who was it?"

"A client of mine."

"Nice work... So, you've just sent a message to him saying "Happy Retard Day, You Fucking Loser"... See you in Hell."
(, Wed 17 Dec 2008, 16:24, 1 reply)
'Argos Cenotaph'
Every time I pass some dead joyriders memorial I wind down the window and shout the above quote - thank you PicketyWitchFinder General for coming up with the quote of the year and making suburban driving so much more pleasurable.
(, Wed 17 Dec 2008, 16:23, Reply)
Not sure Hell's the destination, but it's halfway there...
I remember being on a bus once and with the exception of me and an old lady behind me, the bus was empty. I was sat at the front minding my own business rolling a cig when the bony finger starts prodding me.

Oldie: "You can't smoke on the buses, you know!"
Me: "Don't worry, I'm not going to smoke it, I'm just rolling it here cause it's hard to roll in the wind"

All was well, she seemed to shut up after that. Then, as she was getting off the bus she turned and gave me such a look, like I was Hitler incarnate and said with enough venom to kill an elephant "SCUM".

So on that basis I'm on the way to Hell. Then again, going off her reaction it sounded like I just escaped there.
(, Wed 17 Dec 2008, 16:14, 3 replies)

This question is now closed.

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