I thought my car was fire this morning.
Turned out there was just mist under hood.
(Roger McGough-Pipe, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 12:18, Reply)

Mi shed

( BraynDedd Natasha Kaplinsky's labia majora, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 11:43, 6 replies)

My emo nephew is constantly saying he is misunderstood.

( d.r._and_quinch when will you be famous?, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 11:38, 7 replies)

I was a driver briefly.
The FRB where I worked needed additional drivers for banking big wigs gathered in town. I drove to nearby hotel to pick up a man and two elderly ladies, all bankers. The man told me to put his two bags in the trunk." And I asked, "What about your luggage?"
( kombu dashi, Thu 4 Sep 2014, 6:23, 5 replies)

Shagrihardon
Hellooooooooooooooooooooooooo SWEETEEZE!!!!!!

Many long Gallifreyan years ago, when I was in one of my male incarnations, I was quite perverted. I used to visit all the fleshpots of the universe to indulge my sordid tastes: Florana, Thoros Beta, Varos, Spaceworld, Dulkis (don’t believe their oh so innocent PR – those Dulcians are filthy cunts), Maraphash, the Jap’s Eye of Orion, pre-Federation Peladon, Chipping Sodbury – you name it, I went there and fucked myself empty there.

Anyway anyway, one time I found myself in Deltaphok Spaceport, waiting for my TARDIS to finish rebloxulating its pedestrian infrastructure. I had some hours to kill, so I went to the spaceport bar – a seedy place, albeit with a great view of the arriving and departing ships. It was shabby, like a 1990s Terran hotel, all grey carpets, steel tubing, glass-topped tables (which could be turned to – interesting uses, if you get my drift), blue lighting, dusty blinds, and dead moths in the windowsills.

As I sat there nursing my pint of lukewarm Space Stella and watching the to-ings and fro-ings of the various life-forms, I noticed a female humanoid at the bar, sitting delectably on a barstool and twiddling with the straws in her fantastically precarious-looking cocktail. Although my juices were spent from weeks of sexual activity, I felt my Time Lord cock stirring at the sight of this frisky, foxsome female.

She was tall and skinny and wore great big shiny black boots, fishnet tights, and a skirt so short it looked more like a pussy pelmet. On her top half she wore a psychedelic shimmering multicoloured T-Shirt and a leather biker jacket. Her hair – her HAIR! – was a cataclysmic explosion of every colour under the sun, fashioned in the popular Spragnalla style. Facially, she resembled a hot sexy sizzling cross between Pris off of out of Blade Runner, Lady Gaga, and Joanna Lumley.

No WONDER my Time Lord cock was boinging away nineteen to the dozen! (I sometimes miss my cock. But then I remember I have tits. Lovely, small – but pert – tits).

I had to, HAD to, HADDD to speak to this tartilicious vision of pulchritudinous phwoarness. And so I downed the remainder of my Space Stella, left my table and approached the bar.

‘Hello,’ I said. ‘I am Doctor Skagra. I am a Time Lord. I want to sleep with you. Now!’ (I don’t believe in faffing and farting around).

‘Oooh you’re a bit fast!’ shrilled the gorgeous creature. ‘Buy us a drink first, you cunt.’

Charmed by her forthright manner, I bought her another Taran Motherfucker cocktail, which she started to slurp greedily through a straw. I but could but not but help imagine those lips around the end of my Time Lord cock, sucking and sucking and slobbering and sucking until I went all off over her face, hair and tits.

‘What’s your name?’ I asked.

‘Shagrihardon,’ she replied, between slurps of Taran Motherfucker.

‘That’s an interesting name,’ I said.

‘Huh.’ She swallowed the dregs of the Taran Motherfucker. ‘So you wanna fuck me?’

My Time Lord boner was now as hard as a milk bottle. ‘Very much,’ I gasped.

‘Well it’s your lucky night, cunt, cos I could do with a right good fuckerage. Your place or mine?’

My TARDIS was out of bounds – the rebloxulating would take at least another ten hours. ‘Yours.’

She pouted and looked disappointed. ‘Oh. Well. OK but, you have to know, I live with my mum – so we’ll have to be quiet.’

‘That’s fine with me, Shagrihardon,’ I said, and we walked hand in hand from the bar and took a taxi back to her mum’s place in the seedy residential area beneath the spaceport. With feline stealth Shagrihardon unlocked the front door and we crept upstairs past the living-room where we could hear Shagrihardon’s mum watching some shite soap space opera.

Well not to put too fine a point of it, mere seconds after entering her room, I was entering Shagrihardon. She was bouncing on the end of my Time Lord cock like a thing possessed! It was the best sex I’d had for a long while and my hearts were hammering away like buggery.

But during our throes of ecstasy, suddenly a bellowing voice!

‘Shagrihardon!’

It was her mum, calling from downstairs!

We kept it up, trying to block out the intrusion.

‘SHAGRIHARDON! Your tea’s ready!’

Shagrihardon kept bouncing up and down on my Time Lord cock, her face a mask of combined concentration and frustration.

‘SHAGRIHARDON!’ bellowed the voice again.

The evening went rapidly downhill from there.
(Dr Skagra glorious glargzhem, Wed 3 Sep 2014, 21:18, 18 replies)

I can't remember if this is a repost
but a while ago I was telling my 4 year old daughter how continental types often kiss each other on the cheek 2 or 3 times. She thought this was very amusing, but it caused a problem when I had friends over the following week, and she said "daddy let's do that French kissing you taught me".
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Wed 3 Sep 2014, 13:53, 26 replies)

Caesar adsum iam forte.
Brutus et erat.
etc.
(eViLegion Chief Commissioner of the Scottish Lunacy Board, Wed 3 Sep 2014, 13:47, 5 replies)

I thought about doing a pun post
Then I realised it didn't meta.
(McChinaman banned, Wed 3 Sep 2014, 12:39, 2 replies)

The lucky Holly Tree.
Ian, who is a mate of mine works in Hollywood as a gaffer. Sounds really glamorous - traveling the world and hob-nobbing with the stars. Reality is apparently a tad different. 4am. starts in all weather and long nights bumping out/packing up. Shit food for the crew and the daily grind of having to work with jumped up little egomaniacs who have no concept of social niceties.

Sometimes though there are moments and jobs that make it worthwhile. One of his most recent jobs during last Christmas was a good example - he was working on set in a rom-com based around Christmas and lesbians starring Amber Heard. Who apparently is going through another of her "bi" phases. Her current shag is a young lady who is trying to make a break into the industry and also a co-star. Her name is Caroline Under.

Whilst at the Christmas/wrap party an eager young makeup artist approached Ian as he's enjoying a drink or 52 and purred into his ear that
"Now would be a great time for a kiss." Ian assures me that he was protesting the fact that he was married with children and reckons he asked her
"What makes you say that?". She points at the fake Holly tree they're standing under and says "This is the holly that Miss Heard and Miss Under stood when they shared their kiss in the movie."
(spl00sh!, Wed 3 Sep 2014, 10:18, 7 replies)

Had to deal with someone who'd made up their own NATO alphabet
The NATO alphabet was designed to be unambiguous and easy to pronounce by non-native English speakers, over bad radio connections. Hers made would have made no sense to twins standing face-to-face.

Spelling her postcode over the phone, "Right, that's E as in Eye..."
( chthonic, Tue 2 Sep 2014, 21:25, 20 replies)

When in America...
I stepped outside to smoke a fag.
( arsefez is back, Tue 2 Sep 2014, 19:43, 25 replies)

I'm sure someone posted repeatedly here about being on holiday in Florida.
I must have misunderstood the part where they deleted yet another thread about it.
( stuj (^(^;;^)^) GO TEAM SPIDERS!(^(^;;^)^), Tue 2 Sep 2014, 17:13, 98 replies)

A friend of mine
Once stood outside a tube station, rattling a tin can filled with pennies at strangers; if they tried to donate to him, he'd patiently allow them to put their coins in, then tip them out the ground, cackle and run off whooping. The stranger would invariably discover, upon retrieving their own coinage, that the pennies already in the can were all small value foreign pocket change and not legal tender in this Cunt-Tree. What a character eh?



That was on-topic, right?
(RebelWithoutApplause My underestimation will almost be the death of me, Tue 2 Sep 2014, 15:23, 1 reply)

Sorry for chatting, I'm English
I found a curious stall at Camden Market that sold keyrings with insects embedded in a clear resin. Mostly tropical species so I bought a Scorpion. After paying I foolishly said that whoever made the trinkets must be brave because some of the creatures were dangerous.
Without the slightest pause and with a heavy Malasian accent the guy screamed at me "BUT THEY ALL DEAD!!!"
(luckylife , 0 guests and 3 bots are online, Tue 2 Sep 2014, 14:18, 4 replies)

'S' is for...
When I left school, I pretty much walked straight into an IT operator job at a firm down the road. Completely new at it and was responsible for removing printouts, distributing overnight reports, fixing mice and replacing parts etc etc etc.

One of the tasks involved ringing up suppliers when computers had broken and this was my first attempt. Upon instruction, I duly ran off to the purchasing department for a P.O., filled it in and then got myself on the phone.

Operator: 'Hello, XYZ computers...'
Me: 'Hi, can I order a replacement Hard Drive for a failed machine..'
Operator: 'Certainly, can you tell me the make and model?'
Me: 'Yes, it's a WD blah blah blah'.
Operator: 'OK, can I take a P.O. number?'
Me: 'Yes, that's S456567'.
Operator: 'Is that S for sugar'?
Me: 'Sorry, I don't know what it stands for....'

What a cock.
(paraprod, Tue 2 Sep 2014, 10:47, 5 replies)

Silence in Court!
I used to know a guy that worked for a firm of Agricultural Engineers , they sold tractors , farm machinery etc They also did repairs and sold spare parts. His job was to travel around the district in a big van calling on farmers who needed spare parts, baler twine, fencing equipment and the like. One day he called upon a customer who greeted him with words to the effect “Oh god am I glad to see you today! I am in big trouble with your firm, I forgot to pay my bills and now they are going to take me to court! “ My friend said “Eh? What do you mean ’taking you to court?” “Well” said the anxious farmer “ I got a letter this morning from them , a ‘Courthouse reminder’ . No way do I want to go to court over it, come into the house and I will make you a cheque out straight away!” So Mr. Parts man followed the farmer into the farmhouse. He asked to see the letter, He read it. It began “Dear Mr. ********, With regard to your account : This is a courteous reminder.
(LittleOwl, Tue 2 Sep 2014, 10:20, 7 replies)

Apologies in advance
Stevie Wonder is playing his first gig in Tokyo and the place is absolutely packed to the rafters. In a bid to break the ice with his new audience he asks if anyone would like him to play a request.

A little old Japanese man jumps out of his seat in the first row and shouts at the top of his voice "Play a Jazz chord ! Play a jazz chord !".
Amazed that this guy knows about the jazz influences in Stevie's varied career, the blind impresario starts to play an E minor scale and then goes into a difficult jazz melody for about 10 minutes. When he finishes the whole place goes wild.

The little old man jumps up again and shouts "No, no, play a Jazz chord, play a Jazz chord". A bit annoyed by this, Stevie, being the professional that he is, dives straight into a jazz improvisation with his band around the B flat minor chord and really tears the place apart. The crowd goes wild with this impromptu show of his technical expertise.
The little old man jumps up again. "No, no. Play a Jazz chord, play a jazz chord". Really angry now that this guy doesn't seem to appreciate his playing ability. Stevie says to him from the stage "OK smartypants. You get up here and do it!"

The little old man climbs up onto the stage, takes hold of the mike and starts to sing.....


" A jazz chord to say I ruv you..."
(the_icks has the sweet essence of giraffe, Tue 2 Sep 2014, 10:02, 8 replies)

I heard some men talking about 'oat culture'
It turned out they were agronomists.
Of course I had to tell them 'I think you will find it's pronounced haute couture.'
(the other guy not the one that gave you coochie warts, Tue 2 Sep 2014, 1:39, Reply)

Life on the stage
The Director was screaming hysterically "Back up!" so all us men retreated to the very back of the stage, leaving the Lead Actress all alone center stage. Wrong. The Director instead wanted us to gather center stage and be her 'Back up'.
(Perv With A Dog had his eyes pecked out by scrub jays on, Mon 1 Sep 2014, 23:53, 3 replies)

Surely a made-up name.
In a new workplace I overheard someone referring to a co-worker called 'Barbed Wire'. I thought it was a nickname until I saw the name 'Barbara Dwyer' on a staff list.
( notoolsovernight you're all luvvly an' 'orrible, Mon 1 Sep 2014, 21:57, 9 replies)

I thought I saw someone wasting their hard-earned holiday, by wasting their time bickering about their choice of destination, on the internet.
I must have been mistaken, though.
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Mon 1 Sep 2014, 20:59, 8 replies)

Further proof

(Albert Marshmal|ow Having a lovely holiday and I can prove it, Mon 1 Sep 2014, 20:37, 3 replies)

You won't believe where I am now.

(Albert Marshmal|ow Having a lovely holiday and I can prove it, Mon 1 Sep 2014, 20:14, 6 replies)