Messing with people's heads
Theophilous Thunderwulf says: What have you done to fuck with people? Was it a long, carefully planned piece of psychological warfare, or do you favour quick, off-the-cuff comments that confuse the terminally gullible? Have you been dicked with, and only realised many years later? Are you being dicked right now? Tell us everything.
( , Thu 12 Jan 2012, 11:25)
Theophilous Thunderwulf says: What have you done to fuck with people? Was it a long, carefully planned piece of psychological warfare, or do you favour quick, off-the-cuff comments that confuse the terminally gullible? Have you been dicked with, and only realised many years later? Are you being dicked right now? Tell us everything.
( , Thu 12 Jan 2012, 11:25)
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Vexed by Text
(N.B. The following story employs the annoying use of the term 'Fook' to denote the word 'Fuck' when spoken in a Mancunian accent, as popularised by the NME in the 1990s when quoting a Gallagher brother)
I used to work for a brilliant manager, a proud Mancunian with a fiery temper. A man who, at the time, fitted the lazy mid-90s media label 'New Lad' (think Loaded, football, 'birds', Oasis, binge-drinking, uber-manly-bloke on every level). Impressively, he somehow managed to expertly embody all this without being a dreadful cock. He even put up with the likes of me, a poncey Guardian-reading tosspot with crap hair. His temper, though, was legendary. This was a man who, in one of his finest hours, spent a furious two minutes yelling into the phone before slamming down the receiver and then, because the slam didn't fully demonstrate his anger, picked the phone up off the desk and threw it in the bin.
This was back in the early days of text messages, an invention which this manager quickly embraced. He'd receive regular messages from his mates, all of whom seemed to be in the same new-lad-bloke-sorted-sound-geezer demographic as him. Off-colour jokes, football talk, news of drunken weekends, assertions of rugged heterosexuality, every text back and forth oozed testosterone.
One morning, BEEP BEEP BEEP! BEE-BEEP! BEEP BEEP BEEP! he received a text. A text which perplexed.
"What's this?" we heard him call from his office.
"What's what?" we enquired.
"I've just had a text from me mate Daz, and at the end he's put 'L.O.L'. What's L.O.L?"
One brave colleague replied "I think it stands for 'Lots of love'"
A few awkward seconds passed.
"WHAT THE FOOK IS HE SAYING LOTS OF LOVE FOR?!?!? WHO DOES HE FOOKIN' THINK HE IS?!!? LOTS OF FOOKIN' LOVE?!? RIGHT, THAT'S IT, I'M FOOKIN' PHONING THE FOOKIN' TWAT!!! CHEEKY FOOKIN-"
*sound of office door slamming*
*sound of muffled fook-based shouting*
Turns out it didn't stand for 'Lots of Love'.
( , Mon 16 Jan 2012, 23:03, 27 replies)
(N.B. The following story employs the annoying use of the term 'Fook' to denote the word 'Fuck' when spoken in a Mancunian accent, as popularised by the NME in the 1990s when quoting a Gallagher brother)
I used to work for a brilliant manager, a proud Mancunian with a fiery temper. A man who, at the time, fitted the lazy mid-90s media label 'New Lad' (think Loaded, football, 'birds', Oasis, binge-drinking, uber-manly-bloke on every level). Impressively, he somehow managed to expertly embody all this without being a dreadful cock. He even put up with the likes of me, a poncey Guardian-reading tosspot with crap hair. His temper, though, was legendary. This was a man who, in one of his finest hours, spent a furious two minutes yelling into the phone before slamming down the receiver and then, because the slam didn't fully demonstrate his anger, picked the phone up off the desk and threw it in the bin.
This was back in the early days of text messages, an invention which this manager quickly embraced. He'd receive regular messages from his mates, all of whom seemed to be in the same new-lad-bloke-sorted-sound-geezer demographic as him. Off-colour jokes, football talk, news of drunken weekends, assertions of rugged heterosexuality, every text back and forth oozed testosterone.
One morning, BEEP BEEP BEEP! BEE-BEEP! BEEP BEEP BEEP! he received a text. A text which perplexed.
"What's this?" we heard him call from his office.
"What's what?" we enquired.
"I've just had a text from me mate Daz, and at the end he's put 'L.O.L'. What's L.O.L?"
One brave colleague replied "I think it stands for 'Lots of love'"
A few awkward seconds passed.
"WHAT THE FOOK IS HE SAYING LOTS OF LOVE FOR?!?!? WHO DOES HE FOOKIN' THINK HE IS?!!? LOTS OF FOOKIN' LOVE?!? RIGHT, THAT'S IT, I'M FOOKIN' PHONING THE FOOKIN' TWAT!!! CHEEKY FOOKIN-"
*sound of office door slamming*
*sound of muffled fook-based shouting*
Turns out it didn't stand for 'Lots of Love'.
( , Mon 16 Jan 2012, 23:03, 27 replies)
i thought it was lots of love too
i didn't think it was possible poeple were laughing out loud at everything they said
( , Mon 16 Jan 2012, 23:06, closed)
i didn't think it was possible poeple were laughing out loud at everything they said
( , Mon 16 Jan 2012, 23:06, closed)
I worked many years ago in a kitchen with a scouser
who often shouted "Yer fakkin' caant" at anyone and everyone. Well. Mainly me.
& I would often respond in my best Australian private boys school En-ger-lish
"Oh, but I fucking can."
& would proceed to do said task.
( , Tue 17 Jan 2012, 7:12, closed)
who often shouted "Yer fakkin' caant" at anyone and everyone. Well. Mainly me.
& I would often respond in my best Australian private boys school En-ger-lish
"Oh, but I fucking can."
& would proceed to do said task.
( , Tue 17 Jan 2012, 7:12, closed)
You sure he wasn't a southener?
I'm spent a couple of years being stereotyped as the person who would pronounce it "fakkin caant" by, among others, a scouser.
( , Tue 17 Jan 2012, 8:01, closed)
I'm spent a couple of years being stereotyped as the person who would pronounce it "fakkin caant" by, among others, a scouser.
( , Tue 17 Jan 2012, 8:01, closed)
Definitely Lilliputian
And he was small to boot!
I met (& cooked dinner for) the Red Hot Chilli Peppers in that job. We were really disappointed - we expected prossies, alcohol and drugs.
They asked for steamed fish, vegies, rice and mineral water. And a couple of them had their missus's as part of their entourage.
When your heros let you down...
( , Tue 17 Jan 2012, 8:37, closed)
And he was small to boot!
I met (& cooked dinner for) the Red Hot Chilli Peppers in that job. We were really disappointed - we expected prossies, alcohol and drugs.
They asked for steamed fish, vegies, rice and mineral water. And a couple of them had their missus's as part of their entourage.
When your heros let you down...
( , Tue 17 Jan 2012, 8:37, closed)
Why would a liverpudlian pronounce "fucking cunt" as "fackin caant"?
You fucking cunt.
( , Tue 17 Jan 2012, 9:06, closed)
You fucking cunt.
( , Tue 17 Jan 2012, 9:06, closed)
Dunno, you tell me.
I was born in Africa and mostly grew up in Australia (where I still live now).
( , Tue 17 Jan 2012, 9:30, closed)
I was born in Africa and mostly grew up in Australia (where I still live now).
( , Tue 17 Jan 2012, 9:30, closed)
So this story about meeting a liverpudlian was completely made up.
You really are a thick cunt.
( , Tue 17 Jan 2012, 9:35, closed)
You really are a thick cunt.
( , Tue 17 Jan 2012, 9:35, closed)
I'm sure there's a reason you are so angry.
Perhaps you should talk to someone about it.
( , Tue 17 Jan 2012, 21:01, closed)
Perhaps you should talk to someone about it.
( , Tue 17 Jan 2012, 21:01, closed)
I'm not sure why you would imagine that my pointing out that you're an idiot indicates that I'm angry.
Rather than ... you know ... that you're an idiot.
( , Wed 18 Jan 2012, 8:49, closed)
Rather than ... you know ... that you're an idiot.
( , Wed 18 Jan 2012, 8:49, closed)
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