More 'Carma'
Apologies for the number of car-related stories I seem to post, but it seems that automobiles are a fantastic source of woe.

My mum has a 4-year-old car which is no longer under warranty. As such, I keep reminding her that it is even more important to regularly check oil, water, tyre pressures, tread depths, et cetera.

But she doesn't pay the slightest bit of notice.

Her response is usually "Well they do that at the service!"

So you're happy to only check your oil once a year? Mother dearest, you may well drive a Toyota, but it still won't work properly without proper lubrication of the engine. Or tyres. Or coolant.

The extent of her automotive laziness is such that, left to her own devices, she would not even put more water in the windscreen washer bottle. She's happy to go until the next service with a permanently dirty windscreen.

So, of course, this means the only reason her car doesn't fall apart is that every time I drive it, I end up doing all these things.

It hasn't happened yet, but I'm sure one day, when I no longer need to borrow it, her 4-year-old £14000 car will seize up and be a write-off, one that's not covered by insurance or her warranty.

Oh, and I also keep telling her not to go to the main dealer to have work done. Yet she ignores me, and then complains long and loud about paying £500 for a brake job.

That's karma.
(Half of Stephen Fry's right buttock pissed on your dog on, Wed 27 Feb 2008, 15:05, 2 replies)

not me but this really is karma
(this guy is trying to door people off thier bikes)

youtube.com/watch?v=xGcQxvfLVzI

fools get what they deserve
( Drunken Vet, Wed 27 Feb 2008, 14:35, 6 replies)

Bullies...
Well, I feel I should give a bit of a back story to this tale, so apologies in advance for length,

I moved, and moved schools between year 11 and 12 (aged 16 to our merkin friends). At my old school, I was always known as the one with the risque sense of humour, always telling the jokes that would make people nervous, and greatly enjoying the debate that would inevitably occur over one of my many sexist jokes. So I decided to implement this at my new school asap (in hindsight, not the best idea)

It was 2 weeks into the new term, and we had a "Driving Safety Talk" in which a woman stood at the front and plied 150 bored sixth formers with facts. By the end, she was having a bit of a laugh and joke, so people were shouting out responses to her facts.

One of her facts was "Lads, you're more likely to be in a car accident", so I quickly responded "Isn't that because women crash into us?". Silence.

Complete silence, as everyone (bar the only two people who would speak to me)looked at me as if I was something they'd just stepped in (even the lads ffs).

Handily, the woman gave a bit of a snigger, and carried on, so I didn't think anything more of it. I was very wrong.

For the next week, I had people shouldering into me in the corridor, lads trying to start a fight with me "because i'd offended their girlfriend" and so on and so forth. Basically, utter bullshit.

However, out of this mire, one group of 8 stood out in their nastiness more than others. They would follow me, threaten me, abuse me. At one point, they even wrote an email claiming to be from me, insulting every member of that group, and stuck it on the common room wall early one morning. The problem with their theory? I was late that day, and the entire group saw me arrive, as they were stood enjoying a mid morning cancer stick. So that plan was fucked. The most entertaining fact was that they still tried to blame me, after I pointed out the numerous spelling errors ("You might have done that on purpose?") and when i pointed out they'd seen me arrive that morning ("Maybe you got someone else to put it up for you"). At this point, I was going to snap, as I'd been trying me hardest to be nice to this lot, and they were just being childish.

And snap I did.....I started absolutely laughing my tits off! Half dying, I couldn't even finish sentences. "So you're saying.....hahahaha.....that.....I got someone else?.....hahaha....to put this up....BULLSHIT!". Then continued to giggle. I asked if James Bond was also involved, and should I contact MI6 and ask where I was at 0900 that morning.

However, they were so thick they didn't actually get that I was insulting them, usual cheshire really.

Oh...Karma? Ok, i'll get to the point...

The next week, they were insulting a nameless person while I was sat there, and I knew full well they were talking about me. It was one sentence that day, that stuck in my mind when I finally decided enough was enough (as I'm not a violent person anymore), and went to the head of 6th form, as I'm sick of being bullied.

That phrase was, "Sexists never get anywhere in life, he'll end up getting sacked from McDonalds straightaway". Now, they knew I was starting at McDonalds the next week, so it was fairly obvious they were on about me.

Now comes the fun...
It's been 3 1/2 years since then, and here's what's happened to that group. (Initials because I can't be arsed to type full names, they're the real initials)

JS - Now 19, with a baby and still living with his mummy.
KL - Discovered her beloved boyfriend was shagging her best friend - haven't spoken in over a year. Now failing at Uni somewhere.
S - Regularly seen in Costa Coffee, cleaning the floor as I walk past after work from my well paid job.

Those three made my life a living hell for two years, so I'm glad they're unhappy.

Bullys are cunts, not matter what age they are.

Length? Seems longer now it's bald!
( Agnostic Antichrist Baltimora, Wed 27 Feb 2008, 13:44, 4 replies)

Karma for the Mobile phone user driving...
I'm always on at my girlfriend for using her phone while driving, but she doesn't seem to care. A few months ago she rung up in a state of panic saying she'd been pulled over for using her phone and she was going to lose her license. My inner voice was screaming 'I f*cking told you so you dozy cow!!!', but what I ended up saying was more along the lines of 'don't worry sweety of course you won't'.

It turns out that she had let her insurance lapse because she moved and neglected to tell them. So they sent all the renew docs to her old house. So she ended up getting nicked for talking on her mobile and no insurance which took her over her points which meant an instant ban.

She ended up hiring a solicitor and spending over £2k to get off the charge. She was so happy when she got off that she called me right away from, you guessed it, the front seat of the car while driving home.

She still uses her phone all the time, but not when I'm in the car. Next time she gets caught I'm going really rub it in. Karma may have let her get away this time, but i'm just waiting for the next one. I can't wait for the day she has to buy a bus ticket cos she's so smug about never using public transport.

So I said to my mom when she asked for an update: 'Karma in the car Ma. It's going to happen soon'.

.
(The Archduke of South London I'm in your Girlfriend eating her organs, Wed 27 Feb 2008, 13:39, 9 replies)

Carma
Not mine, but I thought it was worth a link as it sort of fits with the question:

www.b3ta.com/questions/thattaughtem/post77679
(Half of Stephen Fry's right buttock pissed on your dog on, Wed 27 Feb 2008, 13:38, Reply)

Fast response Karma
I live in a flat that requires walking up a mud ridden back lane to get to. last night my gf decided to try and push me in the mud as we were walking down it to the shop in the dark. I managed to get my balance and sort of tight rope walk around it. She giggled as she watched me do this. I go back up straight and carried on walking. 3 steps later and she walks straight into a very deep puddle and get her nice new shiny shoes wet.. That was very fast karma.
(green_giant, Wed 27 Feb 2008, 13:09, Reply)

Not quite irony...
We have a friend who seems able to effect karma or probability. Essentially it works whenever he utters "I don't think that's a very good idea", the effect he has is that somebody gets injured quite badly (normally a paticularly stupid mutual friend.)

Examples as follow:

Stupid friend (SF) manages to steal an unspent shotgun cartridge from his work (a clay pigeon shoot), then sat on his drive with a potatoe peeler and a brick in order to set it off.... the words were uttered... the cartrige went off, and surgery was required to remove a firing pin from his hand (made a mess out of the potato peeler too).

Stupid friend was messing around with an air rifle that had a disabled (read: fucked) safety and no trigger guard... the words were uttered... and SF's left kneecap got shattered.

Stupid Friend... hang on.

I'm noticing a pattern....
( BulldogUgly Visit my profile to see what's between my legs, Wed 27 Feb 2008, 13:08, 5 replies)

I once
Bought a lovely middle-eastern pitta with carved meats, salad and hummus.

You could say it was a great example of Shwarma in action!!!


Must try harder at this pun thing...
(Adamish Time of death, Wed 27 Feb 2008, 13:06, 2 replies)

never run when a taxi will do
lost my wallet had to go to the bank and plead my case to get money out as i had no ID no card nought. eventually got sorted and trotted happily on my way home (decided to skip a taxi to save money hah) to get a bus to get a helicopter to gf's (she lives on an island) got home checked trousers no money ( i had 180). it had fallen out somewhere while i was runnin. WTF checked the road twice nothing. felt depressed as fuck but gf loaned me some cash so got trollied that night yay.

3 weeks later walking past a banklink noticed it was beeping. looked 160 quid in it. yoink mine. waited 10 mins nobody showed up looking for it. went to pub and then it gets fuzzy.

oh well though only down 30 quid and i can live with that cheers karma it all evens our :)
(Samantha Bricks Better half done a poo on, Wed 27 Feb 2008, 12:45, 4 replies)

Karma and the Art of Panelbeating.
A few years ago my brother was merrily riding his motorbike when a car suddenly pulled out and clipped his back wheel. This led to an interesting few minutes as my brother tried to maintain control of his bike. Meanwhile the car had gone on his way, possibly muttering something about bloody bikers.
Never fear, karma came visiting shortly afterward and his car suffered a slight mishap that left his body panels in need of repair.
Alright, so the slight mishap was my brother catching up with the smug motoring buffoon a mile down the road and repeatedly applying a size 16 boot to his bodywork.
And I think I may have confused Karma with Nemesis.
Sorry.
(Big D, Wed 27 Feb 2008, 12:32, 1 reply)

Go on then.. twist my arm
Can anyone come up with a word for this variation?

7 years ago, the current Mrs CS and I were on holiday on Menorca, with my nipper. We were larking about by a pool, and due to go out later for meal.

"Oi you two" she said, "Be careful out there, don't run" and promptly slipped on some steps(whilst holding a glass) and broke her arm.

2 years ago, the ex Mrs CS, same nipper and a mate were on holiday in Spain near Barcelona (I wasn't there).
"Oi you two" she said, "Be careful out there, don't run" and promptly slipped on a tiled floor and broke her arm.

I don't know if this 'nagging karma' coming home to roost, but it's a bit unnerving.

In an attempt to cheat fate I did and do all manner of fool hardy gung ho things. Granted I did break my collar bone rolling down a hill, but hey, at least I wasn't telling someone off at the time.
(Countryslicker, Wed 27 Feb 2008, 10:45, 7 replies)

Yesterday…

I went to a parent’s evening for Mini-Pooflake1…

My jaw dropped when the teacher told me that he was very intelligent and had a wonderful way with words, but was a bit lazy, and did not seem bothered to reach his full potential.

I was told he was a bit of a worrier, that he seemed tired a lot, only really applied himself on the subjects that he was interested in and that it was a bit frustrating for the people around him because they all knew he was capable of so much more…

So what goes around truly does come around…I had myself perfectly described back to myself through my son…

(Except for the ‘intelligent’ and ‘way with words’ bit - he gets that from the missus)
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Wed 27 Feb 2008, 10:19, 20 replies)

Tortoise trauma
Many years ago a lad in our street (let's call him Iain) had a tortoise (let's call him Tommy).

Now he was quite a big tortoise and quite old so his shell was probably commensurately thick and Iain was always boasting about how strong he, Tommy, was; throwing him in the air, standing on his back, hitting him with half bricks etc. Absolutely shocking behaviour I agree and definitely worthy of a severe spanking. Attend though, dear friends, Iain gets his comeuppance.

One day when up to his usual reptile abuse he stooped to a new low. He'd jump off the top of his coal bunker onto Tommy's back. What he didn't count on though was that Tommy's shell had become a bit slimy - I think possibly from being kept outside all summer long in all kinds of weather (yes, another example of animal cruelty).

Of course when he landed on Tommy he skited off like shit off a stick and rattled his head violently off the corner of concrete coal box.

Emergency services were immediately called to this explosion of karmic retribution. Iain lay unconscious for about twenty minutes. He had factured his skull (to this day the only time I've ever witnessed the legendary "straw coloured fluid" seeping from the ears) and needed about 15 stitches in the resultant wound. If I recall he spent about a fortnight in hospital where amongst other probable indignities he had his head completely shaved. Tommy, you'll be happy to hear, was uninjured.

When it came out what had happened and the many other examples of previous abuse were wheedled out of the witnesses Tommy was confiscated and re-homed with a couple on the other side of the village.

My old mum still stays close by and I understand Tommy is still on the go, happy as Larry and none the worse for his ordeals.
( Ramsay Tupper, Wed 27 Feb 2008, 9:50, 6 replies)

Lactic Karma
A small victory, but a victory never the less.

In my final year of high school, my friends and I were sitting around, being wankers. I was having sip of chocolate milk, and someone made me laugh. A little of the milk left my mouth.

So the ginger twat of the group says, "Hey Apricots, this is how we drink!"

And pours a large amount of strawberry milk down his front.
(The Sneaky Poo, Wed 27 Feb 2008, 9:42, 8 replies)

Flatmate from hell
OK, so I'll get straight into it...

In 2002 I went to uni in Edinburgh. Initially I was quite anxious as it was quite a way from where I'm from (NW England) and I was the only one I knew going there, but it is a beautiful city and student life is great. Turns out anyway, that Edinburgh uni doesn't really present much of a cross section of Scotish society, being largely made up as it is of rich English people from Surrey eager to try out the snowy wastelands on Daddy's tab.

Cue the end of 2nd year. My group of friends and I are choosing who lives with who as we move from halls to flats. My course is pretty intensive so 9 times out of 10 I would have to turn down any invitation for a night out/spliff/party. Hence, my name was not too high up on people's wishlist when it came to populating their soon-to-be uberparty-pad. So I got lumbered with 3 other guys. Now, two of these guys are fine, one (Joe - a rather wealthy Surrey boy) was unknown to me and, as you'll see, turned out to be a bit of a shit.

We got lucky with our flat. Super-close to the new Parliament and with 3 floors for 4 people, the rent was undervalued hugely because it was brand new and we were the first tenants. Everything was gleaming - it was worth £500k apparently. Not bad for £270pm each in Edinburgh. So we got everything signed and went to our prospective homes for summer to work etc. Except for J, who decided to hang around for summer and enjoy the festival. The last I see of him is when I leave for home having just put all my coursework, architecture models, computer stuff etc in my room and locking the bedroom door behind me.

About a month later, I'm heading up to Edinburgh with 2 friends. We decided to celebrate my birthday by having a week in the festival. Why not? I've already paid for the rent. On the train up I get a phone call from one of the other flatmates telling me he's moving out.

'What?!' says I, a tad surprised and concerned.
'It's the flat, man. It's fucked up. Joe's fucked it all up'. Says he.

It doesn't sound good. So I tell him I'll check it out for myself and not to tell Joe that I'm coming.

We arrive in Waverly, walk the short distance to the flat and get ready for what awaits us. The plan was set: go quietly straight up to my room on the top floor, leave our stuff then have a look around. Up we go. As I reach the top of the stairs I notice something different about my bedroom door. There seems to be only half of it left on the hinges, the rest splintered across the floor. Shit.

We go in to my room. There's three tussled but empty sleeping bags. I step on a used condom. I survey the room. My flatmate's description was accurate: it's fucked. The blinds have been torn and snapped off the wall. The en-suite (nice flat as I say) - brand new until now - was a tip. Piss everywhere. Smears of what I can only assume to be shit along the shower walls. The shower head is smashed and hanging like a New York payphone. I open my wardrobe. Coursework: crumpled into a ball. Architecture models: completely decimated. Computer: side has come off and one of my jumpers has be shoved inside it. On inspection the insides have been smashed. Time to see Joe.

We go down to the kitchen via the living room. The living room is off the kitchen with double doors, so it's pretty much one huge space. Walking in, we see about 10 sleeping bags and a mattress (we had no furniture at this stage). In the corner is a comatosed Joe half on the matress, half on the floor. His head being on the floor. We step over him and enter the kitchen.

What followed was the most breathtaking site I've ever seen (including goatse). Scattered amongst spilled beans and cans of beer were: 1 large pile of coke - the scale of which can only be described as 'Scarface', the remenants of about 50 lines, a bag of ketamine, 5 large bags of pills, 2 (!!) ounce-bags of weed. Many discarded pieces of foil with burn marks (I presume crack, heroin). The fridge is ajar. It's full - to the point it won't close - of mushrooms. And there, in the middle of all this, is one used syringe.

I walk over to Joe to wake him up. His eyes are deep pink. His expression on seeing me standing over him was a lot like the 2 girls 1 cup mammal thing on the front page. Imagine your expression if your dad walked in on you wanking over a picture of your mum. That's the kind of shock/shame/fear in his eyes right now. He stares at me. I stare at him. Finally he pipes up with, 'What the fuck are you doing in my flat?'.

Come again?

'Get out, man. This is my flat now. You can fuck off. Go find yourself another place to stay.'

This went on for a while. Me pointing out the obvious, him still tripping off his tits telling me to get out of his newly-conquered territory. I'll cut this bit down as this is getting long... Basically, I looked for another flat. Eventually, I realise I've got a good one as it is and shouldn't have to be spending my birthday flat hunting because he decided to fuck up our current flat. I decided I'd better get the landlords involved.

We met the next day outside the flat (we were staying at my mate's in the meantime). On the way we walked down Princes St. We saw something rather bizarre: some guy leaning forward off a traffic light post in the middle of the road (think Titanic, king of the world scene) staring at oncoming traffic as if wanting a fight. He then lets go and runs straight at the oncoming cars. Cue much beeping, running over bonnets, and narrowly avoiding a bus. All while half naked and screaming 'Wahoooooo!'. Wierd. But it is festival time.
Anyway, I explain everything to them. They were shocked but, to their credit understanding. They appreciated the honesty and the chance to save their expensive new property. We say thanks and stand back as they enter the flat...

Now, you know that scene from Ratatouille where the woman's ceiling falls down and about 10,000 rats come flooding out of the house. Yeah, like that but with Spanish and French people. Some half naked, some fully. All fucked up and running as if Robocop himself had just walked in. I've never seen so many bouncing dredlocks in all my life. After about 5 mins it's pretty quiet except for a shouting/whimpering exchange. Then, just as things look like they're coming to a close someone sprints past us heading for the flat, bumping us on the way:

'Wooohooooooooo!' The half naked guy pelts straight in ready to join the party. About 3 seconds later he comes running out again, minus the woohoo.

So yeah, the karma is, he got kicked out, he lost many friends and fucked up his degree. The one stand out moment, though was when my friends and I were sitting in my bedroom window a few minutes later. I was enjoying the fact that I no longer had to face flat hunting at the worst time of the year or be homeless, while my mates were happy to be watching the spectacle. As Joe slinked away, pashmina-clad girlfriend in toe, he looked back and we all gave him a wave. The cunt.
( thiswasmyclone, Wed 27 Feb 2008, 7:14, 15 replies)

Karma is...
The ability of Humans to spot patterns where there is in fact, none whatsoever.

Spooky cosmic vengeance my arse.
(incrediblemonkeydoctor www.rantatsomeone.com - go on, have a rant, Wed 27 Feb 2008, 6:41, 3 replies)

Ooh, I have one!
Once, only once did a man hit me. I had a lovely big Swedish boyfriend in college. This was back in the 70's when I lived in a sorta-commune, so you know we were routinely off our tits.

One night he came home completely toasted. I'd seen him drunk before but never this drunk. Sober, he was a kind, funny, smart devout Lutheran. Now he was the Redneck from Hell. He met me halfway up the stairs; ran up and yanked my nightgown up over my head, pinning my arms to the wall. I was too astounded at his Dr. Hyde impersonation to do anything for a sec, then he hit me across the ribs with his beer bottle!

So here I am, flannel gown over my face, balanced on the staircase, stark naked from the neck down and this so-called boyfriend is playing the 1812 Overture on my ribs and screaming that I'm a whore for parading around in my nightwear....

What's that? The karma? Oh, that--I dropped out of my nightie, roared like a Berserker and pushed his skinny ass down the stairs. Then I charged down after him and cleaned his mother-fuckin' clock. Still stark naked. I only had a cracked rib, but he was far and away worse off.

He moved out a few days after that, bruised and wincing. I was afraid he'd press charges but he didn't. I really think that's one of the (many)reasons I'm so fat now. No one will ever hit me again. Man'll think twice about screwing with a girl who could break his legs just by jumping on him with both knees.
(TDub Nunc id vides, nunc ne vides on, Wed 27 Feb 2008, 6:18, 6 replies)

Oh, also....
I suppose I should say that theres probably a world of difference between the idea of "Karma" as someone receiving a sort of divine justice and the idea of someone who is a bit of an arsehole being killed/maimed/infected with a horrible disease.

Up til now, the only other thing I could think of was the tale of a young lad, 2 years younger than me, who once got a bit wasted on drugs and decided to try to batter me. After receiving a few punches to the face and still trying to shuffle away mumbling "I don't want trouble" (what a hero I am), he threatened to stab my then girlfriend (though he couldn't have had a knife or I do believe he would have used it on me aftew what followed). I saw a fist heading towards my face again, then after a few moments of darkness I came to with the said chav/ned clamped in my left hand crying and bleeding quite a lot from the mouth. I grabbed my girlfriends hand and tried to walk off, but he followed (drugged up) threatening to kill me and I spent the next 2 or 3 months in fear as he and his mates would sporradically appear around where I live with knives looking for me. After a few months of this, for some unknown reason, he let my friend know that he was a bit worried that I was after HIM and he wanted the whole thing forgotten..... which it gladly was, as I had spent many weeks in fear of him and his mates. Thus ended the first of the only 2 fights I have ever been in.

The upshot of it all is that a few years later, having done this sort of thing to many people, many of them friends of mine, he took his own life. I can't remember the exact details of it all, but I seem to remember he hung himself. Karma? I hope not, I would hate to have that on my conscience. I remember hearing about it and my friends saying how he'd got what he deserved. Maybe I'd have thought the same if my own cousin hadn't also killed himself less than a year earlier after getting himself into a lot of trouble with drugs and stuff.... fell in with the wrong crowd, as it always goes. He was in trouble with the law, his girlfriend was having him charged with assault but was calling him constantly and driving him crazy. One day he just went into the loft of his parents house and hung himself. 20 years old. His dad found him. I still see the sadness on their faces every time I see them 4 years on. Their only child.

I wonder sometimes if anyone talks about my cousin like my friends spoke about that kid who caused me all the trouble. I never really knew that guy, but I did know my cousin and there was no justice in what happened to him, no Karma for the stupid things he'd done, just a tragic end for someone I had grown up with and loved like a wee brother. I imagine that other guy was the same, just a stupid kid who took a few wrong turns.

So I decided not to post that story, because Karma doesn't come into it. I didn't actually mean to write any of this down at all, but it just all sort of came out. And now I don't really know how to finish it.
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Wed 27 Feb 2008, 4:03, 2 replies)

Once I seen a group of Neds, or as you southerners call them Chavs
getting chased out of a Fopp store (they are a small chain of music stores, HMV bought them over after they went out of buisness), a couple of years back.

One of them had stolen a CD and they were running away. They ran onto the main road and one of them got hit by a bus.

The scream was very effete and I just wanted to go on with my shopping, but my friend insisted upon standing there making jibes like he was John Walsh.

The bus was parked upon his leg for a good 15 seconds or so before the driver reversed.
(O(+> died of autoerotic asphyxiation on, Wed 27 Feb 2008, 3:48, Reply)

Certain Circumstances in my wee life,
which I will not bang on about yet again, have led me to suspect that Karma does not actually exist, or if it does, I am either unwittingly a complete shit of a person and the people I think are complete shits are in fact saints, or it has decided to cross out my name on it's "future things to make right" list. Therefore, yet again, I am at a loss for stories for the QOTW.

However, I may in fact be wrong..... Karma doesn't seem to want to sort out the bigger stuff in my life, but seems happy enough to step in and lend a hand on the more day to day crap that happens. I noticed this today.

Being without a job at the moment, I've had to sign on at the local (15 sodding miles away) benefit office. I'm off to start anew as a student hopefully this August, but until then I am unfortunately broo scum, unless I can find a suitable temporary job (yeah I know I know, I'm trying, I hate being unemployed and want off it as soon as possible). Everyone in the local benefit office is pleasant enough, so long as you are pleasant to them.... they have to deal with a fair amount of the dregs of society, so they tend to treat decent folk pretty well. Well anyway, I have been signing on for 6 weeks now, and although most of the advisers are busy and tend to get people in and out as fast as possible, I have ended up with the worlds most helpful jobsearch adviser. Ever. She's a lovely lady and always has a nice wee chat with me, but anyone who's ever been in this situation knows all you want to do is sign and leave.

Now. 2 weeks ago, I had the flu. I toyed with the idea of calling in and trying to get off with having to go in and sign on, but decided it was more trouble than it was worth, so I made the journey there, hoping she would have pity on me and sign me quickly and let me get away. Of course she didn't. After a quick glance at me, she asked if I was fit to work. Not wanting to appear healthy, but not wanting to have to go through reams of crap either, I said I thought so but I was currently suffering from the flu and had been in bed for 3 days. She told me how she knew how awful it was, that she'd once had it and tried to go back to work too soon but had developed a kidney infection and had ended up on medication for months in a really bad way. Then, just to be nice, she put me through a gruelling half hour cross examination of my last 2 weeks, culminating in a jobsearch where every single vacancy in the world was gone through one by one while I sat there shivering, sweating and just wishing one of us would die. I got home and spent the next 2 days in bed.

I was running late today and arrived 5 minutes after my appointed time, which I just knew was going to cost me dearly. I resigned myself to this inquisition being the full hour and went to put my little book in the proper slot.... but there was someone else at the desk! She was quite pretty too! She signed me and let me away within 2 minutes with a cheery "Bye!"

I was a bit afraid to ask, but I think Karma may have killed my usual adviser with the flu. Or I have, same difference, I was maliciously breathing quite heavily. That's a bit of an overreaction by Karma I suppose, but I missed half of Jeremy Kyle FFS!
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Wed 27 Feb 2008, 3:17, 2 replies)

The hand of the almighty....
Just thinking to meself, one more beer then bed.


One more can't hurt.



Crack the tinny........

Earthquake.

In Northamptonshire (uk).

Right this minute.

GOD HAS SPOKEN.

ok not quite the center but christ, the Earth shouldnt move. IT JUST SHOULDNT.
(Mr. Fahrenheit Can reach naught to fuck you in 8.36 seconds, Wed 27 Feb 2008, 1:17, 10 replies)

.
One of my friends has been pissing me off all day; constantly interrupting me with inane comments and stupid noises, playing their music at daft volumes, pissing all over the toilet seat, and generally just being annoying.

So I punched them in the face.

I love this karma stuff.
(Merrep, Wed 27 Feb 2008, 0:50, 3 replies)

Dammit.
I stole 50p from my flatmates desk the other day, as I needed the bus. Just been playing with a 50p of mine, and it's fell down a wardrobe, making it impossible to retrieve.
( __, Tue 26 Feb 2008, 22:59, Reply)

Here's one for all you animal lovers out there
It must first be said that I personally don't really care if a coat is made of fur or not. While I'm not a fan of the fur trade as such I find that I usually have more important things to worry about than the possible suffering of a hypothetical animal millions of miles away that had to die for such and such a stranger to be warm on a winters afternoon. However, the events that took place on this fateful day have led me to believe that karma must have played a role somewhere.

It was a cold brisk winters afternoon when myself and a few friends decided to go shopping around Leeds, and after a few good hours we had all piled into the car, new purchases in hand. We had also however picked up some free samples of some Rowntree fruit squishy things, that after tasting was decided that they were infact free because they were shit. It was agreed that the obvious way to rid ourselves of these monstrosities to the taste buds was obviously to put them under the wheels of the car, drive forward and see what happens, in the hopes of making a mess of the cars parked next to us.

Now at this moment, walking through the car park was a woman who looked very reminiscent of Cruella Deville. She had a big fur coat looking like it had come straight from a bears back, Crocodile skin hand bag, the works. She was a one woman abattoir, and an advertisement of the notion that the fur looks better on the animal. And so, karma played its role.

The car was rolled forward, and we listened in anticipation of the four little pops that would have meant that the packs had burst onto the cars next to us. But they never arrived. Instead, the lids had flown off, and just like hammering your fist on a tube of toothpaste, two long jets of luminous green squishy shot out like missiles hitting the woman square in the face before working their way down her coat.
( Furness, Tue 26 Feb 2008, 22:50, 9 replies)

Redressing the Balance
I'm a firm beliver in Karma. So much so that when bad or unfair things happen to me for no reason, I go out and kick a child in the face, just to balance things out.





What?
(FerretTrout be illin', Tue 26 Feb 2008, 21:35, 5 replies)

A long time ago.
A tap dancer used to live in the flat above me. She was a talented young thing but fuck was she inconsiderate. ALL we could ever here was the incessant clicking clacking and skiffling of this stupid bitches feet. "CLICKEDY CLICKEDY CLAP CLIP TAP!" The ceiling would shout on regular occassions, one time it took me by surprise so much I nearly choked on my pizza.

But karma was just around the corner.

The dancer got hit by a car and became quadraplegic. Now I'm not saying she DESERVED this but hey, it put a stop to her tap dancing and allowed my flatmates and I to inflict some karma upon her ourselves.

We frequently pissed in the lift of our building, so that whenever she wanted to go out (with her carer/mother) from the 6th floor she had to put up with that vile stench.

When we walked past her aparment we'd shout "DANCE FOR ME NOW SPACKER!" and the likes, as well as constantly playing knock a door dash.

We also took to hitting the ceiling with the mop in the middle of the night in the hope that she'd realise how annoying it was.

And before you accuse me of being cruel remember that I said she definitely wasn't deserving of the car crash, so *that* evidently wasn't the karmic retribution for her annoying dancing. All we did was take it upon ourselves to give her a punishment befitting her crime.
(Tip-Top Tomcat but you can call me Tommo, Tue 26 Feb 2008, 20:51, 12 replies)