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This is a question Hypocrisy

Overheard the other day: "I've told you before - stop swearing in front of the kids, for fuck's sake." Your tales of double standards please.

(, Thu 19 Feb 2009, 12:21)
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This question is now closed.

who is morbidly obese who orders a big-mac-whopper-family-bucket meal with a diet drink.



Just have a normal full-leaded drink. You're a fat fucker, be proud of it.
(, Mon 23 Feb 2009, 13:39, 19 replies)
Not Veggies, but....
Carnivores that have salad with their burgers

(, Mon 23 Feb 2009, 13:29, 4 replies)
Birds n Bees

Show a class of kids a dvd of animals fucking - its educational.

Show the same class of kids a Red Hot Dutch dvd - its criminal.

(Personally, I've learned shitloads through watching porn. Especially how not to decorate a bedroom - have you seen some of the wallpaper in those movies, not to mention the dodgy lampshades and lava lamps???)
(, Mon 23 Feb 2009, 13:06, 5 replies)
Kids eh?
The first instance of hypocrisy that I can remember happened back when I was at primary school and around the age of 7 – 8 years old.

The school had received funding for essential repairs and everywhere was looking pretty nice. After the paint and decorating was finished the caretaker was tasked to go around and attach a number of signs to remind us where the fire exits were etc etc. One of these was a ‘no smoking’ sign.

The hypocrisy wasn’t in the idea of a bunch of primary school kids from a pretty isolated village lighting up in school time, but by the fact that the caretaker did the entire job with a lit Marlborough in the corner of his mouth.
(, Mon 23 Feb 2009, 13:04, 1 reply)
Inspired by spankyhanky to remember one of my (few) run-ins with the police.

We used to play football every evening on the playing field of our old primary school. When I was 18, my parents bought me a car. This was ridiculous as I didn't need a car, but dammit my sister (7 years older than I) got one when she was 18, so the grabbing-get in me wanted a piece of that action.

So I drive to the field, it would probably have taken me less time to run there than drive there, the shame of it. The school had recently changed the entrance from a road at the front of the school to a road at the back. At the same time, the old entrance was given a low kerb to signify that it probably shouldn't be driven over, but had a dipped portion such that if someone really wanted to drive up to the front gates and park their car on a piece of grass that did not block anyone's throughfare or endanger anyone, they could.

So that was what I did, had a couple of hours of footy and returned to find a copper giving me a ticket, accompanied by a gang of young children. 'There he is' they all shout and I was presented with my ticket. A heated debate with said copper ensued where I suggested I wasn't endangering anybody or inconveniencing anybody. Copper wasn't having it though and as far as he was concerned that was the end of it.

Where is the hypocrisy, you all ask...

His fucking panda car was parked next to my car.

Additional: not hypocrital but deliciously ironic: The police station in my home town of St Ives (pronounced snives) is on PIG LANE.
(, Mon 23 Feb 2009, 13:01, 5 replies)
Sexual equality
How come that woman want sexual equality but then complain when you hit them?

eh? eh?

(disclaimer: I don;t hit people, this is just a flaw I have noticed in sexual equality)
(, Mon 23 Feb 2009, 12:58, 7 replies)
So I got to the door first…

“You don’t have the hold the door for me!” snorted the burly, flat-shoe wearing feminist as she huffed and puffed towards me.

All I was doing was attempting to cling to some good, 'old-fashioned' values, and display a bit of simple, harmless chivalry in these troubled times.

“Ok then” I said, and I slammed it in her face.

Not really hypocrisy…I’m just a cunt.
(, Mon 23 Feb 2009, 12:51, 4 replies)
More ‘Battle of the sexes’…

Why is it that when a beautiful woman struts around with her succulent arse jutting out, and her shoulders back, blatantly displaying her nipples poking through her flimsy top with such ferocity that you think they might pierce the fabric like fleshy bullets to give me something to hang my coat on, it’s not only allowed, but considered ‘desirable’ and ‘alluring’, and women can do it with pride…

Yet when I am spotted with the resultant whopping great stonk-bulge busting in my trollies, as I shuffle off through the office towards the toilet, I am vilified, fixed with vengeful grimaces and howls of derision from the entire female office population; before being dragged into HR for a disciplinary and put on a formal warning?

I feel that in my defence, I was only responding to the visual stimulation provided, which necessitated the rather urgent and frenzied clouting of a quick one off the wrist...

I don’t understand it…surely that was the objective she was trying to achieve?
(, Mon 23 Feb 2009, 12:32, 4 replies)
I said the old....
'Would you jump off a bridge if they told you to?' to my little brother

two days after i'd been forced into a charity bungee jump by workmates that i didnt even like.
(, Mon 23 Feb 2009, 12:13, 1 reply)
At dinner yesterday I sat there extolling the virtues of Broccoli to my 2 year old daughter in an attempt to get her to eat some.

Then she said "Daddy, have some?" and went to spoon some onto my plate.

"No thanks, I don't like it" I replied. Somehow I need a new approach I think.
(, Mon 23 Feb 2009, 11:32, 3 replies)
Pearoast, as reminded by Legless' post below

Do men respect women who put out on the first date? A scientific approach.

Research hypothesis
Based on a claim made by my flatmate, men do not want anything long-term with women who sleep with them on the first date. The research hypothesis (H1) is that there exists a significant difference between a man’s respect for a woman who sleeps with him on the first date (condition 1), a subsequent later date (condition 2) and not at all (condition 3), thus (H1): x-barfirst ≠ x-barlater ≠ x-barnever. The null hypothesis H0 is that there is no significant difference between conditions.

This work did not pass ethics committee scrutiny, but participant confidentiality was assured.

Pilot study
My life prior to the experiment.

Me in a short skirt, getting drunk.

Sample (x-bar)
The population was “men I fancy” and thus the experiment was conducted on a subset, or sample, of these men.

Participant A
Friend-of-a-friend. First date. Got very drunk. Fell into bed. It wasn’t great. Decided to give him a second chance and the fecker turned me down. Didn't see that coming, which was pretty much what I said the night before too.
Conclusion: he did not respect me in the morning.

Participant B
The Lovely-ex. In pub after work. Vaguely knew him. Got very drunk. Fell into bed. After a rocky start where I bullied him into dating me we got it sorted and were together for two and a half years and lived together in domestic bliss disputes bliss harmony for a year and a half of that.
Conclusion: it was indeed long-term. Hmm, one-all.

Participant C
A lengthy (for me) courtship before dragging him to my lair, and I have no idea if he respects me more for it, or if he respects me at all, but hell, he can do things with his tongue that'd make you go blind.
Conclusion: inconclusive.

Participants D-Z
All the men I wanted to shag but never got to shag. I'm sure they respect me more, now that my cries of "pleeeeease sleeeeeep with meeeeee" have faded.
Conclusion: I'm sure they'd all be on for something long-term, oh yeah.

Statistical analysis
I can’t be arsed running stats tests. My cracked copy of SPSS isn't working.

i) It shouldn’t matter a damn.
ii) The only thing I learned was that if the hypothesis is true then it works both ways.
iii) I'd forgotten how tedious it is to run experiments.
iv) I should've applied for funding from some social sciences research council, then I'd have broken even on drinks and condoms.
v) I don't respect people who don't respect my lack of self-respect.


Edited to add: now I make sure I don't offer anal 'til at least the third date.

(, Mon 23 Feb 2009, 11:14, 23 replies)
Even as a youngish Legless I've always felt that way people treat promiscuous young scamps like me was hypocritical as hell.

As a bloke, I could shag anything that moved and was vaguely female and all I'd get was wry comments, congratulations and the odd shake of the head. Occasionally people would buy me beers.

But women who tried the same thing? They were laughed at, scorned and treated like whores. Just because they had had one, drunken, one-night stand, every bloke who knew them felt they were slags and it was their God-Given right to have them shag them as well. And occasionally people would buy them beers.

I've never figured out that kind of morality.

Any lady who granted me her favours I was always grateful to. Even the ugly ones (who I might add often turned out to be fantastic bed partners).

So ladies with loose clothing and looser standards, I salute you.

(, Mon 23 Feb 2009, 10:48, 13 replies)
The Bike
There was a girl at my school who provided a very, very important service. She should have been given a medal, or at least an honourable mention in the Queens speech.

This girl would allow just about anyone to have a pop at her innards after a couple of pints of snakebite, bless her.

Back in my teenage days if I went to a party and this girl was there, I’d always know that some spotty pubescent prick would approach me after an hour or so and shove their middle finger under my nose, accompanied by a drunken:

“Sniff that, Spanky, that’s what a real woman smells like."

One time a lad at school ambled out of the toilets spinning a used condom like a weird rubber blackjack. It was full of cum on the inside and lady juice on the outside. He spun it in such a way that everyone in the room was splattered in a fine spray of the bike’s sacred secretions. Some people went “Eeeewwwweeee!!!”, but I actually secretly enjoyed it. It was fucking sexy. But I wanted so much more than to be showered in second hand fanny batter.

I went up to the fella with the used condom and said: “Fuck it, I’m gonna go for it – where’s the snakebite, I’ll go and offer her a refill... in more ways than one.”

To which the fella’s eyes widened with horror: “That is fucking disgusting, Spanky. You really are a dirty little fucker , aren’t you?”

And he ambled off, draping the used condom over his shoulder like a trophy, a badge of honour.

Unfortunately before I could get into the toilets to have a crack at the bike, some other fella sneaked in before me. I could see he was holding a bottle of cider in one hand and lager in the other.

Bollocks. Missed my chance.

He came out a few minutes later, tucking his shirt into his trousers, and the bike followed looking rather tired and sweaty and definitely not up for anymore humping.

But it was a long summer that year, and opportunity would knock again. I had to make do that night with wanking into a sock and rubbing the lady juice that had splattered my face onto my fingers and into my mouth.

A few days later on the bus into school I told my best mate Greg about my plan to ride the bike.

He just said: “That's fucking sick,” and continued looking out the window.

“But you’ve had a go on her, haven’t you, Greg...”

“Well, that’s different...”

And I just sort of whispered. “Hypocrite... Just like everyone else...”

To which Greg sighed and said, “No, Spanky – I just think that there’s something seriously wrong with you. I mean, she’s your sister, you sick cunt.”
(, Mon 23 Feb 2009, 10:30, 14 replies)
the 'sex sells' attitude of the mass media
where they'll do an article on breast cancer, not because it's an important health issue, but because they can show boobs.

Honestly, it's barely legal.
(, Mon 23 Feb 2009, 10:17, Reply)
I could go on about this all day and night for a year
I won't though. My message is simple.

If you think people that work in fast food are stupid, or unwashed, or the scum of the earth, and you simply cannot keep that contempt inside, then the solution is simple - Do Not Buy Fast Food.

Do Not come into my workplace, and treat my staff, or myself with disrespect and rudness.
Make your own fucking pizza.
(, Mon 23 Feb 2009, 10:13, 9 replies)
Women are definitely NOT hypocrites…

I remember a wise old man, with a nod and a wink, once telling me the old adage:

“Women may say ‘no’, but they really mean ‘yes’!”

They fucking well don’t, you know.

In my experience, when a woman says ‘No’, she usually means:

“No, no, no, no, NO!, fucking hell no!, a trillion times no, for the love of scented flap-wipes, NO!, not if you were the last sperm-creating life-form on the planet, NO!, Stop touching me there…I said NO!...just because my nipples tend to poke out like a Japanese fighter pilot’s thumbs, that is no reason to try and twiddle them like you’re attempting to tune in a 1950’s radio…NOooOO!, are you still here? Do I have to fetch the police…AGAIN? Why won’t you respect the restraining order? NOOOOO! Get it through your thick, fucking ugly head…I SAID NO! NO! NOOoooooooooooo...”

Thankfully, it’s usually about then that the Royhpnol kicks in.
(, Mon 23 Feb 2009, 9:53, 12 replies)
Little Bit Of Politics...
Gordan Brown and his secret lover, Maggie Thatcher. Go on. Picture that fat, gurning, one-eyed Jock giving Maggie one up the arse.

I'd just arrived in Oz and had no internet for a few weeks so totally missed the fact that a Labour Prime Minister invited that bat-faced harridan to tea at Number Ten. I mean, what-the-shuddering-fuck?

Had he forgotten the 80's? Had he forgotten what that bitch did to our coal, steel, ship-building and manufacturing industries? Had he forgotten that it was that twat who turned us from a manufacturing country into a Service Industry Nation specialising in finance and banking? That was a fucking smart move wasn't it Maggie? Remember that Gordan?

The wall-eyed spaz who now runs our country has his tongue so far up Thatchers arse that he can lick her tonsils - from the inside. To add insult to injury he's now planning a State Funeral for her. A State Funeral - as if she did something amazing for the country like winning a World War instead of shafting the country for generations to come.

And, while I'm on, Downing Street have totally knocked back my e-petition to have Maggie buried under a disco. It would save queuing for the millions of Labour voters who want to dance on her grave.

Listen you pathetic Porridge-Wog. One of the reasons that you're tanking at the polls is because you've sickened us sucking up to that handbag-weilding witch.

You might have forgotten where you came from, you hypocritical cunt, but we haven't.

And breath....

(, Mon 23 Feb 2009, 9:32, 27 replies)
From ‘Spoilt Brats’ to ‘Boys ‘n’ the hood’…

During my university time I will never forget the condescending hypocrisy of my three ‘well-to-do’ public schoolboy chums who decided to ‘get-down-with-the-kids’ and adopt ‘gangsta rapper’ personas.


These three twat-blisters, each to the Manor born with a silver spoon, decided to slum-down in an exercise to ‘fit in’ with their lower class chavvy student mates and they did it in as patronisingly inaccurate a way as is humanly possible.

First up was Reece Everitt, snooty little plum job with a 'la-de-da' attitude and a father who owned half of Guernsey. He started wearing Ali-G tracksuits and ‘bling’...

Next was Quentin Bullock-Smythe, captain of the rugby team. A huge, strapping inbred mutant previously known as ‘The Bull’. He subsequently insisted that his father traded in his sporty Alpha Romeo for a gargantuan Hummer with chrome ‘up the ass’ and blacked-out windows.

Last, and by all means least, was Peter Octon, 234th in line to the throne. He started wearing a baseball cap back to front, tucking his hands into his armpits and adopting a London ‘yoof’ accent.

Of course, they all changed their names.

Reece decided to adopt the time old tradition of Chavs and spice girls alike, and decided to ‘trendy up’ his name by being known by ‘first name, then the first initial of surname’…thusly he became ‘Reece E’.

Quentin liked being known as the Bull, but decided it wasn’t ‘street’ enough, so preceded his nickname with the word ‘Dub’, as in N’dubz, and other well known purveyors of rapping arts.

Peter Octon liked what Quentin did, and wanted to change his name to ‘Cool-Oc’, but then decided that ‘cool’ wasn’t ‘cool’, and so changed it to ‘Hip’

As if this wasn’t bad enough, they then decided to form a post-ironic rap group, poking a well-manicured finger at society and its perceptions. Of course, they got the wrong end of the stick and totally arsed this up. On stage they wore tattered suits in an attempt to resemble Stan Laurel (of Laurel and Hardy fame) of all people, and combined hard-core sexploitation lyrics with bungling old-time physical comedy. They sucked.

They were so bad in fact that for months, all I seemed to hear around the campus was people complaining about ‘Hip-Oc’, Reece ‘E’ and ‘Dub-Bull’ Stan duds.

Please forward all letters of complaint to the usual address.
(, Mon 23 Feb 2009, 9:28, 7 replies)
ahhh, the innards
Both the Mr. and I are rather heavy drinkers(read.. drunken bastards) but he's a bit older than me, and so has been drinking longer than me. I have a terrible habit of yelling at him for how much he drinks(which is almost exclusively beer) and how i won't be paying for his new liver as I wash back three or four ibuprofen with a vodka tonic.
(, Mon 23 Feb 2009, 4:33, Reply)
A small confession
I have a horrible habit for correcting grammar and spelling on the net when mine isn't even that good..
(, Mon 23 Feb 2009, 4:05, 7 replies)
Red Hair
Females are known as redheads and are often seen as desirable and attractive.

Whereas society views men as 'Gingers', who are unappealing and their red hair is a source of ridicule.

It's not fair damn it!

I'm still glad I've got red hair though, after all it's character building.
*cries himself to sleep*
(, Mon 23 Feb 2009, 0:30, 14 replies)
Not really funny, but still one that irritates me...
People complaining about how disgusting we all are for using excess electricity and thus consuming natural resources.

That's all well and good, but how much electricity is their PC consuming whilst they type their bile and venom towards capitalism into random blog software 2.0?

It's almost like anti-motorway protestors turning up on the building site having used a bus along a motorway to get there in the first place.

This is probably why few people, particularly amongst the 'Merkins, take environmentalism seriously.

Edit: I've remembered a much more annoying one than the one I originally wrote. Cocks who move to the Costa Del Sol because "immigrants have ruined Britain by bringing over their way of life and forcing it upon us".

Is that why you then sod off out to Malaga and open a damn chip shop then you hypocritical tossers?
(, Mon 23 Feb 2009, 0:03, 1 reply)
Sorry if it's bindun but... The Daily Mirror
(, Sun 22 Feb 2009, 23:47, 2 replies)
Action Man overdose
This could almost have featured in last weeks Darwin Awards QOTW...

When I was 7 years old or thereabouts, I stayed over at my friends house. He was a good little boy whereas I was a mischievous little bastard. His parents both worked at the nearby hospital, his mother was a sister and his dad a nurse.

We were in his bedroom playing and I happened to look in the built in wardrobe/large cupboard and noticed that there were loads of small boxes on the top shelf. I asked him what they were but he didn't know so I somehow knocked one of the boxes down and looked inside. Cool, a box full of syringes containing a liquid.

So we played doctor and doctor. We used an Action Man as our patient, stabbed its head with a syringe and filled it with the contents.

At that moment, my friend's dad walked in and went ballistic. He spanked our bottoms. He blamed me and told my mother the next day that he didn't want me to play with his son as I was a bad influence.

Bad influence?

What kind of parent keeps the drugs that they've nicked from the hospital where they work in their child's bedroom?

Love to know what was in those syringes.

So glad that we didn't try injecting each other or there may well have been a "I killed my best friend" entry on last weeks QOTW.
(, Sun 22 Feb 2009, 23:46, 2 replies)
Hello, my name is Naomi and I am a hypocrite
My boyfriend of nearly 2 and a half years is the sweetest guy I've ever met, but no matter how hard I try, I cannot stop being a hypocrite towards him.

Mainly, it's about money. Now my parents are not the richest people in the world, but they give me £330 per month to pay rent, food and bills while I'm at uni. This should mean I have over £5000 in my account, instead I have about £2000. My boyfriend's parents can't afford to give him money for uni - too big a mortgage.

So I know I have more money than him but I've spent way more than I should. I'm forever having a go at him for spending money he doesn't have, when I know I somehow waste far more. I make snide little comments at him about whether he really should go out Thursday night and spend all that on alcohol (of course he should, he's a student!)

Thing is, I know I'm a bad, horrible person - I just don't know how to stop! Help!
(, Sun 22 Feb 2009, 23:10, 3 replies)
Got to start somewhere
Secuurity Guard stops me pushing my Bike through the Riuw Shopping Center in Bridgend. Pointing out the No Cycles sign.
Except he constantly turns a blind eye to the couples and gangs of schoolkids happily chomping away on their chips&gravy takeouts from the takeways.

I've worked Security I know about the perks of the job.
(, Sun 22 Feb 2009, 23:02, Reply)
A rant rather than a story.
Mr Frosch is the most annoying man ever.
~He sets the alarm because he needs to start getting up earlier for work. So 7 am the alarm goes off. He keeps turning it off every ten minutes, waking me up, until 8. Then tries to get me to get up and have a shower just so he has an excuse to stay in bed longer. His reasoning? "But you always have first shower." He has to get up, so I do too.

~Now whenever Mr Frosch is on his laptop, he is not to be disturbed. He will move when he is ready. I've gotten out of the shower and have just sat down on my computer to check my vitals (email, facebook etc..). Finally out of the shower, my Frosch appears - "Shouldn't you be getting some breakfast? While you're down do you mind warming me up some leftovers and bringing me up a coffee?" Now, to his credit, I had actually gone downstairs and turned on the kettle before wondering why the hell he couldn't do it himself. I head back upstairs to ask him, only to find him already playing computer games waiting for his freshly brewed coffee.

~ We're both on diets at the moment - more his idea than mine to be honest. This seems to mean that I can't have one bar of chocolate a day (cut down from 4) but he's fine to eat 12 yorkshire puddings in one sitting. Massive hypocrite.

Length? Why do you think I'm with him? Apologies for the rant but just needed to get it out my system. I love him really.
(, Sun 22 Feb 2009, 22:36, 4 replies)
me and ebay ticket sellers
people who buy tickets for gigs and pay about #35 for them, then put them on ebay for hundreds. i hate you. all of you. it should be illegal.

so, how many tickets have i bought from you in the past 12 months? always telling myself that if i'm going to go, i might as well splash out for really decent seats, and therefore buying into your hype.

let's see... snow patrol, #150 each. kings of leon, #145 each. counting crows, #105 each. the killers, #130 each. coldplay, #100 each. prince (vip), #175 each.

i hate you. but i'll continue to buy tickets from you at topwhack prices, therefore propagating it and making the prices even higher.
(, Sun 22 Feb 2009, 21:30, 14 replies)
The Cold Hearted Bitch Approach
I always advise friends on how not to get too attached too quickly in a relatively new relationship.

I've just spent the last 24 hours attached to my phone impatiently waiting for a new beau to get in touch. Yes, i feel like a fucking twunt (and i'll still be attached to my phone for at least a further 24 hours)!
(, Sun 22 Feb 2009, 20:44, 2 replies)

This question is now closed.

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