stusut79
Not sure about the room full of trout but I reckon it would smell like an eastern european brothel I once visited when extremely drunk (no stu, i wasn't drunk on fish oil.....keep away from the lateral pills, they'll do you a mischief).
( sneep used to date Freddie Starr's hamster, Fri 7 Oct 2005, 13:53, Reply)

I
told my girlfriend the other day that I had a shameful secret in my sexual past.

I said: "I once fucked a melon."

She heard: "I once fucked a man."

Cue a very very long silence.
(Highlander, Fri 7 Oct 2005, 13:53, Reply)

Tragic but true…
My partner and I (paramedics) attended a boy of about 9 who been the victim of a hit and run driver.
As you might expect the boy had severe injuries and was unconscious and we needed to pay special care in respect of any spinal injuries, which were extremely likely in this case.

One of the assessments you can make to confirm spinal injury when a male patient cannot communicate with you is the presence of a priapism – a continually erect penis.
The boy appeared to have a priapism visible through his clothing and my partner told me he would confirm it by discreet touch with the back of his hand.
“Yeah” says my partner “priapism confirmed”.
An assisting police officer asked me what a priapism was and I told her what it was and what it meant.

A bystander who had been watching put a complaint in to the minister about two paramedics “taking the mickey out of a dying boy’s erection and touching his penis” and also complained about “the copper who didn’t do them for sexual assault”.

It was more exasperating than funny given the tragic outcome, but no – we don’t get our jollies touching the private parts of dying people.
(emadex thinks the world will end on, Fri 7 Oct 2005, 13:53, Reply)

Abbreviated Tube names
Was living in leafy West Hampstead a few years ago and had a new girlfriend who was coming to see me. As she's lived in London a year and a half I simply said 'Get the tube to west hampstead and call me for the rest of the details'.
She called, I gave the directions, they made no sense. Probably because she's travelled to West Ham. Her excuse? 'I thought West Ham was short for West Hampstead'. I replied 'You silly bi'. Not the brightest but she did have breasts that looked like a dead heat in a zepplin race. I wonder where they are now (probably around her knees.....)
( sneep used to date Freddie Starr's hamster, Fri 7 Oct 2005, 13:51, Reply)

I'm not a vegetarian
but I wasn't really in the mood for eating meat on this particular day.

Me and the family were in Llandudo. Went to a restaurant.

I was looking through the menu and, apart from a couple of pissy little sandwiches, the meals were all mainly meat-based.

The waitress came over.

Me: Hi, just wondered what vegetarian meals you had?
Waitress (confused): We have.... (looks at the menu and points at the Chicken Kiev)
Me: Erm, Chicken Kiev?
Waitress: Yes.
Mike: No, I'm after something vegetarian please
Waitress (even more confused): I'll go and get someone else.

*belms*

Mike
(member of the Stusut79 fan club)

EDIT: And can the mods PLEASE delete all posts containing references to ice cream vans, loogabarooga, and whining about how shit they think this weeks comp is? I'm not claiming mine's the most interesting in the world, but it's fucking better than reading the same old fucking shit again and again.
( Mike Fishcake teamfishcake.co.uk - better than your mum's face, Fri 7 Oct 2005, 13:49, Reply)

Little people
I was out with a bunch of friends, chatting away with one of them about little people, dwarves etc, as one does, so he gets very excited and exclaims "I've got to get me some midgets!!!!!".

His girlfriend and all her friends went absolutely ballistic at him about this, how demeaning it was, and so on. We couldn't understand their problem. Turns out they thought he'd said "I've got to get me some bitches!!!!!".

At which point he tried to explain "no, midgets, not bitches!", but they didn't believe a word of it - "why would you be talking about midgets??". Eventually we realised that unlike us, girls don't tend to consider midgets a normal day-to-day topic of conversation...
( dr_fonz, Fri 7 Oct 2005, 13:48, Reply)

wierdcokechick
It would take about 13.5 million of me. But only if rainbow trout was used in each hand to bash the keys. That's about 27 million trout. That's a lot of trout. Can you imagine 27 million trout in a big room full of typewriters, their bodies slapping against the keys, and then the "ding" everytime the paper reaches the edge? Imagine the noise! Hell of a lot of trout.
(stusut79, Fri 7 Oct 2005, 13:47, Reply)

stuey . . . .
I am a monkey in one of those factorys yet we produce no prose, that task is reserved for the smart monkeys, those cunts get grapes and everything, we just get chucked against the walls, kicked and occasionally eaten.

Your witty leftfield yarns had the capacity to raise whoops of joy from me and some of the other fuck monkeys round here. we are in mourning at your last mail, and hope you get paid by your trade else where.

but back to the topic, I also once asked for hot chocolate at a small cafe, and out came the waitress with four tall groovily dressed spades.

the four of em for one fifty !

it doesn't always fall your way but its sweet when it does . . .
(The Cats Twat, Fri 7 Oct 2005, 13:46, Reply)

Water
bit of background..
As builders are useless in the UK, when resurfacing the road outside the house they decided to dig through the water main. No water for 2 days.

BTW, this story is lame but i wanted to "feel" part of the community

So, off I trot to the local "indian" (pick a country over there) to buy bottled water. Its not far away so making polite conversation I asked "do you have running water today?". His response was "no, all our water is bottled, we'll get a delivery on monday". I looked confused and but carried on with "Oh, ok....so you don't have running water". response "no, delivery on monday".My Response "no, the water outside, you know the leak?". reponse "no one is selling water outside"

This went on a few minutes until I gave up. He thinks I'm crazy now, crazy or stupid.
(grimmmy, Fri 7 Oct 2005, 13:29, Reply)

stusut79
they said if a million monkeys bashed a million typewriters for an infinite amount of time, they would eventually produce works of shakespeare. how many millions of you would it take to start spewing some literatur that at least almost makes sense or is vaguely entertaining?

on the subject though, my mother often makes grammatical errors when it comes to afrikaans (a south african german/dutch derivitave language) instead of dolledig which means extreamly something (i can't remember what the 'something' was - maybe tired) she says dolleeg which means spotlight.

when i was small everytime someone teased me or something i would triumphantly say 'ill take that as a comment' to much laughter of all present. it took about a year before i realised what i meant was 'compliment.' and i felt so goddamn clever. my parents remind me of it all the time. oh how we laugh...

its not the size that counts. especially when you're a women and you've had two kids and king kong cant even touch sides.
(formerly wierdcokechick is now a mom and hasnt touched any '2nd rate charlie' in months., Fri 7 Oct 2005, 13:22, Reply)

Gizza joab
I thought I'd asked the company for a job. But what came out was obviously: "Please drain the poetry from my soul and grind the hope from my veins, wasting the precious days of my life serving the banal aims of venal parsimonious kobolds who value pennies more than seconds and whose sole ambition is to derive blood products from certain mineral deposits. Then bend me over the desk and administer the unlubricated poker. AGAIN. And thank you for making it nice and hot, I know that costs money. Oh, and I will work for food."

Mr Length has left teh building.
( calgacus Non sum qualis eram bonae sub regno Cynarae, Fri 7 Oct 2005, 13:18, Reply)

Catalan confusion
On a 6th form trip around five years ago, some friends and i arrived back at our grotty hotel rather late and rather worse-for-wear. On our way to our room we bumped into the hotel manger (short, fat, sweaty). He turns to us, smiles and exclaims in a loud voice 'LONDON GAYS!' we paused, gob smacked and asked him to clarify. He approached, put his hand on my mates shoulder and continued 'yeeesss you are london gays no?' At this point one of my co-conspirators started to get offended and demanded an explanation.

It turned out he meant London guys. HILARIOUS!!!!
(sterlingsmithe, Fri 7 Oct 2005, 13:15, Reply)

Hey..bobo148
.....if she thought u were really in trouble..then she wouldnt mind about the cost of using her mobile abroad surely?
(Oops....did I say that out loud cos I really bloody want to., Fri 7 Oct 2005, 13:13, Reply)

dyslexics have a hard time of it...
A woman I used to work with, once gave a presentation about "Data Warehouses".

Trouble was she was dyslexic...

Instead she gave a talk entitled, "Data Whorehouses"...
(Swirly, Fri 7 Oct 2005, 13:12, Reply)

I dont like to be rude
but this weeks...and lasts weeks QOTW has been shit.

Or have I completely misunderstood the point!?
(Oops....did I say that out loud cos I really bloody want to., Fri 7 Oct 2005, 13:07, Reply)

stusut79
aahh go on. you know you want to.
(teasus likes tea, Fri 7 Oct 2005, 13:06, Reply)

I used to work in Chicago
but I don't work there anymore.
(Garnett, Fri 7 Oct 2005, 13:06, Reply)

Guilty 8 year old
There I was, 8 years old, sitting at the table eating toast. I have been wiping the crumbs surreptitiously onto the floor, I had to go to the larder to get some more jam.

The larder is a large cupboard where all the mops, etc. are also kept.

My Dad shouts out "Can you get the floorer?" referring to the sponge mop which would be used to clean up stuff on the floor. Like crumbs.

Cue guilty tantrum "I'm not wiping them up. You can do it. It wasn't me." etc. etc.

Of course, as you have all spotted by now, this rather bemused my Dad since all he wanted was the Flora margarine from the fridge.
( Amish Information Systems hates misplaced, commas, Fri 7 Oct 2005, 12:59, Reply)

Espionage
In Edinburgh, we have a club called Espionage. It is horrible. I expressed my hate for the club to a friend once: "I hate espionage. It's horrible. It's the work of the devil" and so on for quite a long time. The look of shock on my friend's face continued to grow as the outburst went on. Turned out she had heard 'lesbian action' instead of 'espionage' and thought I had turned into a raving right-wing homophobe overnight.
(tallulah kittiwake, Fri 7 Oct 2005, 12:58, Reply)

i need a sheet
in the cue in the bedding/homeware floor of a large, but slightly run-down dublin department store. in front of me is an eastern european woman with two children. she keeps asking the woman at the counter. 'i need sheets. where are sheets?' the woman behind the counter looks really embarrassed and then leans in close the eastern european woman and says in a broad dublin accent ' da jacks (dublin slang for toilet) are over der love but i wouldn't use em for a shite if i was you'.

i can maybe understand confusing sheet and shit... but not when you're working in a department filled with pillows, duvets and... sheets.
(e p f, Fri 7 Oct 2005, 12:55, Reply)

I apologise and assure you I will no longer submit long, nonsensical answers
In the light of last week's QOTW, in which several b3tans took the opportunity to point out that my previous answers have been pretentious and, moreover, epic in length, I have decided to take a step back and look at myself and, more importantly, my written output on this board.

The term 'epic' has been used throughout the history of the arts as an adjective to describe a work of great creative scope, and has even become a noun used to label such works. The great War & Peace is often described as an epic literary work, and this description has since extended into cinema. Indeed, Richard Attenborough's Gandhi and David Lean's Lawrence of Arabia are hailed as historical epics. Yet when the term 'epic' was used to describe my writing, it was meant in a derogatory fashion, as though 'epic' was to be translated as "a rambling, over-long scrawl of worthless, uninteresting nonsense."

Of course, there have been others who have posted messages in praise of my efforts. If I was an arrogant, self-centred person I could use this praise as an excuse to continue in the same fashion as before. I could state, like some kind of acid-fried, semen-milked, fading rock star, that as long as my output makes at least one person happy then it is worthwhile. However, this approach to life is not in my character. Therefore I have decided to reduce the length of my answers. Hopefully the old adage "quality and not quantity" will remain at the forefront of my mind when I am composing future responses.

When I immerse my twitching consciousness in the erotic, animalistic act of writing, I tend to become a kind of sex-crazed Gummi Bear, flailing wildly at the keyboard, beating at the letters randomly with my purple fists in the vain hope that what appears on the screen will resemble some kind of legible prose (or, in a couple of cases, poetry). I then take the raw product of my emotional outpouring and construct from it various sentences. I then arrange these sentences into meaningful paragraphs. When these paragraphs are arranged in an order that I think is appropriate, I read over the piece and insert random adjectives and even entire descriptive sentences to flesh it out. This process is akin to taking your child, whom you love and cherish dearly, and holding him aloft with your sinewy arms for all the world to see, and bellowing at the top of your lungs to any poor soul within earshot, "Behold! Witness ye my progeny! Look upon him as the pride of my soul and the joy of my heart; as the fruit of my carnal labours and the throbbing product of a sweet yet violent union; but mostly as a reflection of myself!"

This, however, is no excuse. From now on I shall no longer write such expansive and nonsensical musings. I shall no longer waste the time of myself nor my fellow b3tans, whom I hold in the highest esteem and would do anything for. Indeed, were it possible I should very much like to gather all those who dwell here amidst the electronic ether and place them inside some kind of giant abandoned fish warehouse-cum-steam roller, blazing an unstoppable path to eternal glory and happiness. I would lovingly caress them one by one up and down their silky spines with my tender, feathery tongue. I would tweak Legless's proud chin delicately between thumb and forefinger, while gently singing a sweet lullaby to BadGirlActsGood through my nose. Despite his obvious bowel problems, I would treat JinDod with the utmost respect, dropping to one knee to offer him an ankle massage with my firm, meaty forehead. I would then offer shoe_pastry my veiny hand so that we may dance a merry waltz, before rousing calgacus and Mad McMad from their unsettled slumber to assure them that everything will be OK. It is just a vision I have. I am but a man; I am permitted to dream. To hope. To cry.

And so, on to my short, succinct answer to this week's QOTW:

I went into a cafe once and asked for a hot chocolate. The lady behind the counter was of Eastern European origin and she obviously completely misunderstood my request: she brought me a cheese and ham toastie. The whole fiasco caused me to smile.
(stusut79, Fri 7 Oct 2005, 12:54, Reply)

At work t'other day...
Had the iPod on entertaining myself and the data entry bint. Some remixed pap comes on, and half way through the song slows right down to a stop, then speeds up again, in a amateur DJ stylee.

Cue said data entry bint: "You're batteries are on the blink there"

*sigh*
(Carling, pint of, Fri 7 Oct 2005, 12:52, Reply)

Handy for those business trips.....
Genuine advert in local paper shop - 'For sale - 3 piece suit with convertable bed'
(misspiggy In danger of having to get a job, Fri 7 Oct 2005, 12:47, Reply)

While watching TV
I saw a trailer for Cosmetic Surgery Live with Vannesa Feltz. It turns out that what Vannessa actually said was "Tonight we'll be watching as Miss X undergoes lyposuction" however, I completely misunderstood as all I heard was " I'm an utter media whore that will do ANYTHING to get on TV. I'm willing to fuck a labrador while being pee'd on by lepers as long a ITV film me. I am a cunt!".

Wierd, huh!?




10 PRINT "appologies for length";
20 GOTO 10
(Gomi No Sensei, Fri 7 Oct 2005, 12:42, Reply)

cantonese capers
My pa lives near Hong Kong, and due to the tonal nature of the Cantonese language, and the inability of the English to properly imitate it, all sorts of hilarity ensues...

When I was 16, and visiting Dad, I was going through a veggie stage. At a restaurant, Dad goes to tell the bloke that I am a vegetarian. After the restaurant bloke looks severely shocked, Dad realised he got the intonation wrong, and told the guy that I eat children(jai in a high tone means vegetables, and jai in a low tone means chldren)...

Dads mother, when visiting shortly after his wedding to a lovely chinese lady, bumped into his new wifes mother in town, who doesn't speak a word of english. Instead of "good morning", she somehow ends up saying in a loud voice, right in her face, the equivalent of "DOGS DICKS".

Also, the nearest cantonese word to "Robert" - my Dads name - is Lobat, which means Carrot. So all Dads chinese friends name him after a root vegetable. His wife even had a bouquet of carrots at their wedding. Mind you his brother in law is called Duck, so I guess it's horses for courses.
(teasus likes tea, Fri 7 Oct 2005, 12:35, Reply)

How we laughed
While out in the piss once a mate of mine was on the phone arranging to meet someone in a pub later on.

Another mate and I overheard him saying that he was "en croute".

Cue much guffawing.

This kept as amused for months afterwards, every time we were having a smoke and it got brought up it resulted in gales of laughter.

I confronted the culprit sometime later and he claimed that he knew that he had said he was covered in pastry.

I don't believe him.

Edit: not sure if this actually falls under the misunderstanding category.

arg, just lost the Game
( Vipros. clever got me this far, then tricky got me in, Fri 7 Oct 2005, 12:33, Reply)

Pardon me mam....
....Is that the cat that ate your new shoes?
(eurrrrrggggggghhhhhh Cunting /talk, Fri 7 Oct 2005, 12:32, Reply)

when I worked behind a bar
A young girl and her friend came upto the bar.
"Scuse me, can I have a cork"
I said "A cork? We don't sell them"
She said "no, I want a cork"
*me thinking you stupid cow*
I said "We use them for the wine" and speaking to her like a child "we..don't...sell..them"

Her non-yorkie friend then speaks in nigh-perfect english "Oh I think she means a coke"
:|

apoblogies for no plug
(wez, Fri 7 Oct 2005, 12:26, Reply)

I was walking along when
An american tourist asked me for directions to loogabarooga? Turns out he was looking for loughborough, so I rubbed chillie into his cock and went on my way.


sorry... so, so sorry >sits in corner to think about what I just did<
(timberwolf0122 is turkey volume guessing man! Guessing the volumes in terms of turkeys since, Fri 7 Oct 2005, 12:25, Reply)