Phones and food.
So I find myself in Bergen, a beautiful city in the spring. I was staying with friends on the slopes of one of the 7 mountains surrounding the city. On the last day they and the find I was travelling with had gone out and we'd arranged a small surprise; I was going to cook a soufflé for them as a thank you present when they got back, since they'd never tried it. My friend was in on this and I told him to keep them out of the house for a couple of hours so I could get it all made and ready.

Sure enough, it went swimmingly, until I took it out to their balcony, set up two bowls and some candles and placed my creation in the middle. The view from this place was amazing and I could see on the other side of the mountain a strong gust of wind kicking up the snow. I didn't think much of it and totally without warning I was blasted with an unbelievably strong and curiously warm wind. The bowls smashed on the floor. Cussing like an orgasming tourette's sufferer, I phone my friend.

"It's me. Listen! I need you to stall them, I've had an accident!"

"Whats up?"

"I can't hear you, you're echoing!"

"Probably because I'm behind you"

And there they were, stood behind me, curiously looking at me standing in shards of broken bowl and soufflé.

And that was my no-bowl föhn disaster.














(Are we still doing these? Not been here in ages)
(Tiny Blindfolded Horse Kitten sound car horns would end road rage, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 15:06, 3 replies)

webuyanycar.comwebuyanycar.comanyanyanyanyany
A couple of years back one of the prototypes of webuyanycar.com had popped up on Watchdog.
Basically, they scoured the pages of Exchange of Mart and rung up people offering to sell their car for about half its value, take half as their cut, leaving the vendor with about a quarter of what they would have got had they made a legit sale.

For a couple of days I was getting calls asking about a van.

Each time, I would politely say "Sorry, you've got the wrong number. I don't have a van for sale". Obviously someone had placed an ad somewhere, and acidentally put my mobile number. Annoying, but not a huge problem.

Until... one of these shady companies phoned me.

Him: "Yes, bud, I'm ringing about your van"
Me: "You've got the wrong number mate"
Him: "Yeah, your van. If you've having trouble selling it, we'll take it off your hands" (the use of the word 'we'll' as oppossed to 'I'll' immediately made me realise what was going on)
Me: "No, you've got the wrong number. I don't have a van for sale."
Him: "You sure?"
Me: "Yes, I'm quite sure. I don't even drive."
HIM: "*thinks*... well have you got ANY cars for sale?"

*click*
( Joe Scaramanga with a G-double-O-D vibration, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 14:51, 1 reply)

Racism
I won't start this post with some statement like "I am not a racist". That's because I am! Well no, I'm not, but I don't really care what people think.

You know that game Othello? It's basically draughts with black and white pieces (and the odds are slim to none on me maintaining the comic element of surprise with this).

I'm on a train journey, again to Birmingham, and we had just left Coventry. I was sat with my friends on the train playing Othello on my phone. Between London and Coventry I had lost over, and over and over again as the black pieces. Based on no scientific logic at all, I switched to white pieces to see if it made a difference. The mocking from my friend was getting worse and I was determined to win.

Coventry has an exceptionally large Muslim population, many of whom were on this train. It was a bad time to win and shout "Ha! I win! I told you switching sides would work! White power!"
(Tiny Blindfolded Horse Kitten sound car horns would end road rage, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 14:34, 1 reply)

My dad's just got an iPhone
and he's turned into a cunt.

Every waking hour I am around him, it's "Ooh, look, it can do this" and "Bet your phone can't do that!"

Most of the 'unique features' his phone offers, mine can do too. But franky, I don't care.

Also, a £400 device that doesn't have a GPS receiver? What's that all about?
(Flap Burger hasn't really got a burger made of flaps, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 14:28, 13 replies)

Apologies if it's ever been you.
When we were kids, me and some chums used to pick a random number out of the phone book and call it. When answered we would begin a casual yet rather silly conversation pretending we had mis-dialled a friend. Our most popular character, pre-dating Bruno by 20 or so years, would be to adopt a thick, camp Austrian/German accent...

*ringing*

Voice of randomly chosen number: "Hello"

One of us: "Hello Franz, eet ees Gunther. Mary said vu vould like to meet up to admire my weighty poppenschniel" (Or some other appropriately cheeky sounding word)

"Er... I think you have the wrong num..."

"Oh Franz, don't be a silly. Ve both know where this ees heading. My vieselcleft is hungry for vue"

*click*

This became even more entertaining when we discovered booze.


Two decades later, in our mid thirties, me an one mate in particualr still do this, but instead of calling people, it's texting. We normally take an existing contact and swap two or three numbers around. More likely to be a real number that way.
What we've found best is to just send a text that is mildly surreal yet almost plausible.

Recent examples include:

'I missed the ferry! Will the porcupines escape without guidance on the boat?"

'It was like a corned beef fritter dropped on a barbers shop floor!!!'

'Your experiments go against the laws of man and God! Stop it. Now!'

'Penguin! Penguin! Penguin!'

'Lionel has tits now'


And so on. You get the idea.


Give it a go, it's great fun when you get a reply. Most are just 'U got wrng numbr. lol', but some are almost as funny to recieve. Our best one, in reply to the the above 'Penguins!..' was:

'Piss off, Terry.'

Off topic? Probably. If it helps, I've also dropped my phone down the shitter.

Ta.
( sir_spicious2000 Crap I've watched: www.filmplop.blogspot.com/, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 14:26, 8 replies)

FULL DISCLOSURE
I would like to point out - in the name of preserving the good, honest name of the B3ta brand - that the ringtone in question in the original question was not Going Underground, but "A Message to you Rudy" by the Specials, and at least one mourner at the funeral smirked before the rest piled in, fists and boots flailing.

The Jam just sounded funnier. So there.
( Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 14:25, 1 reply)

Talking of Mobile Phones
Earlier today a mate of mine text me this is how the conversation flowed.

Mate: Hi i've got shit signal. Whats up?

Me: My cock now.

Mate: Well I'm pooing as we text.

Me: I was only jokin you perv.

Mate: Do you ever watch your poo coming out and imagine your getting fucked by a black man. .... Me neither

Me: And i've never sucked it back in to get the feeling of it aswel.

NO REPLY

I have the feeling i'm a lot dirtier minded than my friends
(NuffMuff fucks shrubbery, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 14:21, Reply)

Nun Fun
My dad is a train driver, and as anyone with relatives on t'railway will know, this means you usually get the joys of the holy "priv ticket", that being a ticket which normally allows you 16 free trips anywhere in the country by rail, and after that a 75% discount on all fares (may be different now but that's how it was in the good old days). Anyway, because of this I would travel all over the country by train and on an oddly large number of occasions, I would find myself sat opposite a nun.

So one day I am heading to sunny Wolverhampton for some reason. Probably a hankering for incest or child eating or something. Sat opposite me is the nunniest nun you have ever laid eyes upon. None where nunnier than this nun. None.

Normally I leave my phone on vibrate when out and about as I am permanently plugged into my ipod. As we are just short of Birmingham New Street, this nun begins to glare at me like I was possessed by Satan, or Muslims or somesuch. I became pretty uncomfortable and for a brief time was convinced my skin would begin to bubble and melt, or I'd bleed black like that fella from Dogma.

As this Jihad-staredown was going on, the song on my ipod finished, and in the silent space between songs, all became clear.

My phone wasn't on vibrate. It was on very loudly.

"Everyone has AIDS! Ba ba ba-ba ba, AIDS AIDS AIDS!"
(Tiny Blindfolded Horse Kitten sound car horns would end road rage, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 14:20, 3 replies)

"My dad's a copper, he'll track you down!"
Like many people, I get pleasure from having a joke with people who send me text messages by mistake. A short while ago I received a message saying "Alright, it's me Harrison, how much do you want for that phone?"
My reply was along the lines of "I'll have a go on your mum, that'll be worth about a fiver"
His response "ha ha, very funny m8, how much do you want?"
Me: "£10,000 in non-sequential notes, throw them from the 10:30 train"

this must have puzzled the poor soul as he then phoned me, and in his horrible chav-geezer voice said "hahaha, nice one mate!"
me: "think you've got a wrong number"
him: "fuck!"
he rings back and I tell him it's still a wrong number.

On his third call he has figured out what is going on and suddenly switched to super-aggro-mode: "'ere you mug! what are you doin' sayin' shit abaat my muvva!?"
Naturally I hung up as my delicate ears didn't want to be subjected to this barrage.

I then recieved a text informing me that I was: a prick, a mug, a cunt, a twat, that I should go and meet him and he would beat me all over the place and that his dad was a copper and would track me down.

I felt it my duty to point out that I was having a laugh, he thought it was perfectly funny until he realised that it wasn't his mate, he should be more careful when entering numbers to his phone, that I could be anywhere in the country if not further away, and that I'm sure that tracking someone down would constitute a waste of police resources.

Needless to say, I didn't hear from him again.
( Vipros. clever got me this far, then tricky got me in, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 14:12, Reply)

I am in no way glamorizing this event- prison is bad!
The instant I saw the topic of this weeks QOTW I thought of the time I was in police custody. Normally I’m not the type of guy to write this thing down but – meh I am practically anonymous on here.

This all started after I had been a bit lairy on a few nights out around town. Basically my erratic behaviour had attracted the attention of the local plod and I was arrested and escorted to the cells post haste (after a bit of a joyriding incident backfired). Once I reached the police station I realised that I may have been in a little trouble. Turns out my alleged pursuit of fun over the past few weeks was classed as a major breach of the peace and had rounded up a few of my mates as well. I was searched, placed in a cell and interrogated- let me tell you these people have some nasty ways of making you talk. After a bit of to and fro with one of the lower members of staff in the interview room I was allowed to make a call (You know the obligatory 1 call when arrested). And this is where the mobile comes in.

I hastily dialled the mobile number of my mate. The line rang and rang and then went through to the answerphone. This may sound disappointing to you but it is what I had planned all along as the mobile was part of an explosive I had stitched into my buddies stomach earlier………..

So there you have it the disaster was that Gotham PD let me call a mobile (True I had to beat up that twat before but meh).

Why so serious?
(mon bison powered by magnets, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 14:11, 3 replies)

Weeing fail
Last week I was out with my boyfriend and a friend of ours (let's call him Matt). We were supposed to be having productive discussions about a project but instead ended up going on a pub crawl, blagging our way into a club, missing the tube and drinking Scotch on the night bus home at 3am. When we arrived at a stop near my and the boyfriend's house we popped into a 24 hour shop for some more booze and, upon reaching the counter, realised that Matt had disappeared.

Since he didn't know the area and was quite compehensively wankered, I decided to go and stand outside the shop and call him. To my surprise, he answered.

'Matt! Where are you?' I asked.

'I'm across the road pissing on a bin,' he said cheerily.

I looked up and Matt was, indeed, across the road pissing on a bin. So it was as he raised his arm to wave to me that he dropped his brand new iPhone on the floor, where the screen smashed into little bits and, leaning down to rescue it whilst still in mid-stream, fell over into his own unpleasant puddle and simultaneously deposited fresh piss all over his legs.

Poor Matt.
(clumsyeloquence is a girl, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 14:03, 1 reply)

I once replied to my new girlfriend text with "I can't wait to fuck your wet pussy again"
Only to discover she had borrowed her mums phone as she was out of credit.

We were 15.

She told my mum :(
( Peej, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 14:01, 5 replies)

A few years back
I was in china on business. With everything being so cheap - it was a good time to try out the delights of which you wouldn’t experience at home. Mostly it was prostitution, but not always.

We had been given mobile phones by the company, so we could keep in touch with each other as there were about 15 of us.

One Monday me and my friend were called into the office technical room by a technician. He was rather interested about where he had been the Saturday before.

"I was out on the p!ss all-day mate" he said in a very masculine manner. He was blokey bloke. The type of guy who hated ponces.

The technician raised his eyebrows in slight disbelief. He then leaned over the desk grabbed his desk phone and dialed his voicemail on loudspeaker.

"MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM NUMBER (the number of the mobile was mentioned) SATURDAY 7 TH JULY...... 3MINS......*BEEP*...."

what followed was rather strange.

"........."

"....does anyone know we are here?"

"........"

It was now clear there was a second person in the room - English, so it was another colleague...

"....... wow, it feels weird......"

(scuffle noise)

"...if anyone finds out about this in work...we're dead...."

(scuffle noise)

(muffled chinese talk)

"...I cant believe im getting my nails done.... ive wanted to do this for ages, but - you know - I doubt it would go down well with the lads back home...."

And there is was, the butch lad of the team had slipped out of the pub and had a manicure.... and had called by mistake from his pocket – bizarre as it seems – the Technical departments voicemail.

awww...
(Dan dan dan They tik urh jerbs!!!, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 14:00, Reply)

After a nights drinking the next day i was nursing a hangover,
so i was next to my Girlfriend of ten years when my phone beeped a message, it was one of them new fangled picture messages, from a friend i have known for absolutely years, i opened said picture and it turned out to be a naked picture of the sender, this provoked laughter and sneering from me and my girlfriend who thought the idea of this person embarassing themselves by making such a bold move hilarious, that was untill i scrolled down to see the following text; "just returning the favour"...
(DefyingDarwin Old, untalented and white,, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 13:58, Reply)

Dropped your iPhone in the shitter whilst having explosive diarrhea?
There's an app for that.
(Potty Jag har smör i min rumpspringa, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 13:58, Reply)

Tight jeans and unlocked phones
I was heading out on the lash in lovely Nice with my missus and a few mates. As we left our apartment (well, not ours, we rented it off a familly friend), I jammed my phone into the pocket of my jeans. Jeans which fit me before I spent a week in the south of France, eating pastry by the tonne, but were no "a little snug".

At about 2 in the morning, we were sat outside a bar, putting down yet another bottle of stupidly cheap French plonk and I somehow manageed to dial my new boss, who hapens to be first first in my phonebook.

I didn't realise this and the conversationwe were having about how much we hate our jobs continued as normal.

Because the call was made in the middle of the night and my boss puts his phone on silent, it went to voicemail. So I left him a message that said "such a completely useless fucking cunt. No really, I don't call people cunts much, but he's an utterly useless one. You wouldn't trust the thick, ugly twat to run a tap, let alone anything else, the cunt". This statement was said with impecable timing, because the voicemail message cut off the first four words of my rant, which were "My new boss is"

When I got back to work, he played the message for the whole office and asked "who were you talking about, Scouse?" after a moment's panic, I said "Gordon Brown".

And the call cost me about a tenner...
(ScousersPet, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 13:57, 5 replies)

Not that great but....
Boss was retiring, Big goodbye in the main hall, lots of foods and drinks. Then it was time for his big goodbye speech. The room fell silent, he began to talk when suddenly a mobile phone went off, my phone, very loudly, "fuck" I exclaimed as I desperately tried to get it out of my pocket and switch it off as half the room looked like they were going to kill me and the other half started sniggering. My ringtone?

The Theme from Space Pirates on cbeebies. Its still talked about to this day.
( Peej, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 13:55, 1 reply)

Work Phone
I had my phone in my hand while taking a piss and dropped it when it rang.

Then i got a brand new one from work that was actually worth a bit of money but then whilst standing up after a poo it fell out of my pocket and into last nights dinner.

Now they've given me a really shit phone.
(NuffMuff fucks shrubbery, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 13:53, Reply)

Hello? Sarah?
Back when mobiles were going through the smaller is better stage we were out for a post work bender with a few other wild young things (worked hard and played hard working for a large IT consultancy). One of the girls got her phone out and fiddled about with it for a bit before asking if she could borrow someone else’s to make an urgent call. She disappeared outside for a while and returned to her seat. For an hour or so after that she kept picking her own phone up , pressing a few buttons and putting it back down.

Eventually the lad whose phone she had borrowed asked for it back and she asked if she could make just one more phone call and disappeared again. She returned and gave the phone back with many thanks and a double whisky (single malt of course). A short while later his phone rang and he left the pub to take the call. At this point Sarah erupted in gales of laughter and said we should all watch Iain’s face as he came back. We watched as he returned and sure enough he had a rather perplexed look .

“What’s up?” I asked.
“Can you smell something funny on my phone?”

At this point Sarah could hold herself back no longer and with ill-concealed glee informed Iain that she had switched his phone to silent, put it down her knickers and speed dialled the number all night. She’d had a whale of a time, wiped the stickiness off and left the smell for him. As a small revenge he rang her at 2:30am and told her he was having a really good wank sniffing his phone. I love working with perves.
(Donkey Hotay Tilting At Windmills Since, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 13:53, 5 replies)

Pea
Lovely Landlord Roy
I used to have a really nice landlord called Roy - hence the subject of my answer this week.

He was a really handy guy, and friendly, he taught me how to use a drill and electric screwdriver. As landlords go, he was easily the best by far.

As he was teaching me the way of the tool, he told me about the first time he lost his mobile.

He was concreting a floor, and some of the concrete was contained in a bucket levelled underneath by a plank of wood.

He accidentally stood on the wood as he was taking on his mobile and had a "carry on" type fall, with the phone flicking in the air and landing in the bucket.

Knowing it was beyond redemption, he left it there and carried on concreting the floor.

The story doesn't end there, just as well really as no humour is contained within.

Anyway, the following morning, he pops off to buy another mobile on his way to finish the job.

Thinking it would be hilarious, he decides to ring his old phone, from his new one, just to see what happens.

As he's walking across the floor, new mobile to ear, listening to "floor" ring, he begins to chortle. Distracted by this mild amusement he stands on the piece of wood, has ANOTHER "carry on" type fall and flicks his new phone into the concrete.

The only reason he did not do this for a third time, he informed me, was that he could not remember the number to his newest phone.

Bless 'im
(Jugular, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 13:51, 1 reply)

There seems to be a few
never leave your mobile (insert place here) so I may as well chip in.

We had a New Years party, as you do, during the clean up of the house the following day we found a mobile.

That afternoon, the phone rang and a male voice at the end of the line said 'Oh? Hello? Er, is Becky there?'
I replied 'Hang on' and turned to my housemate Ian told him it was someone after someone called Becky.

After the briefest of discussions we decided that we didn't actually know anyone called Becky and I really don't know what made me do it but I went back on the phone and said 'I'm sorry, she upstairs being fucked at the minute. Can I take a message?'

He didn't want to leave a message. He didn't sound very happy either.

Sorry Becky.
(zebby wasting irony here on, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 13:50, Reply)

Random Slut
The best and worst drinking-slash-mobile-phone game ever.

When someone walks away from their phone, pick a random female and text simply the word 'slut'. Then place the phone back where it was.

Then enjoy.

Oh, for added destruction, replace 'slut' with 'I think I'm in love with you'.

Extra points for the guy who came back from his piss break to receive a call from a previous date saying 'I think I feel the same way too'.

Ahahahaha.
(Miraclefish How appropriate, you fight like a cow, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 13:47, 1 reply)

Bad phone sex…
So it was a fair few years ago when mobiles where all new and special. And everyone had just got one and would answer every call as if their life depended on it.

I was dating a filthy young girl from uni, who shall remain nameless for now, but if you ever fly the orange airline, she works for them… anyway, one amorous night we got it on and played hard.

The young girl had a penchant for bum sex, and well, that was bloody good fun. So while we were getting it on, the request came up for the other side, and I duly obliged my big breasted friend.

“Now… hang on a minute, your new phone has a ‘vibrate’ function doesn’t it?” oh yes it does thinks me, would you like me to try it on your front end while I take you like this? “well, yes I would*” she replies.

So, the new mobile function got a hard and heavy playing, much to the delight of the excited girl. And it wasn’t long before we both finished with mutual satisfaction… and all was good. Until the morning after.

The telephone rings, its Mother Cornish… ‘hello mum, what can I do for you?’ …”well Stanley, I got a call from you last night, and ahem, all I heard was ‘funny’ noises. I just wanted to check that everything was ok?”

Arse. Yup, my mum got to listen, not sure how long for, to my filthy nocturnal activities with a complete, and loud, filth bag. Didn’t use the vibrate function again… she just bought a vibrator instead.


*she’s from Essex and in now way talks like this.
(CornishStanley can't post hyperlinks, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 13:46, Reply)

what an arse
my best mate, now sadly deceased, was forever topping up her call credit. seriously, about £20-30 a day. she had a landline as well, so none of us could understand where all her credit was going.
until her 21st.
that was the night we caught her filthy prick of a boyfriend in the bedroom with her phone, using all her credit for the umpteenth time, calling sex lines.
wanker.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 13:45, Reply)

Ringing people by mistake from your pocket...
I used to be paranoid about doing this as I heard so many horror stories of people ringing up their mum whlist on the job by mistake, etc that I changed my handset to a flippy open one. Hurrah.

Shame the same cannot be said of what I thought was my best friend... She is a total weehead and if she isn't drunk by 2pm in the afternoon at the weekend and by 6pm during the week then there will be pigs flying. Anyhoooos, she had this bad habit of ringing me whilst she was under the influence to invite me round to her house at all hours of the night and day expecting me to drop everything and race round there which, after a couple of years of politely declining, had got very annoying as drunk people are painfully dull when you are sober. During the final couple of months of our friendship her drinking continued even further out of control where she then had to get her, also drunk but less so, husband to ring me to carry on with the 'we have been whooping it up now are bored so come round and entertain us' inviting.

The last time this happened I had a nice chat with him and politely declined his very kind offer of going round there at 10pm on a Sunday night as they both 'misshed' me. Thought no more of it and then my phone rang again and it was friend's husband - again. Was quite bored of listening to drunks by this point so left the answer phone to get it... It would seem that he had put the phone in his pocket and then dialled me by mistake. I had a full 2 minute message listening to the drunken delights of my 'best friend' ranting and raving at her husband telling him what a total c*nt she thinks I am because I wouldn't go round there.... nice. Needless to say I don't need her number in my phone any more...
(Senora Veranos cannot and will not so ner..., Thu 30 Jul 2009, 13:38, 2 replies)

Bst qotw tng eva,

I wll tll mi m8s abot dis.

U no dat!
( JeffTheDogFucker Can you dig it?, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 13:34, Reply)

In the pub one night a mate of mine asked if I’d be interested in purchasing a fancy new mobile for a tenner
Never one to turn down a bargain, I asked if I could see the wares first. My mate then twatted me hard on the side of the head so I saw stars and lost the use of my hearing for the rest of the evening. Then, to add insult to considerable fucking injury, the bastard demanded I pay him the tenner.

If someone ever offers you a top of the range knock-ear in similar circumstances, just tell them to fuck off.
( SpankyHanky, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 13:33, 2 replies)

Bluetooth in the afterlife?
Few years ago I worked for a mobile phone company in York, and we sometimes had people ring the store instead for advice instead of waiting hours for the call centres. I answered the phone to an older lady, who we had sold a contract to her husband a few weeks ago.

It turned out that hubby had now passed away and she was asking me what to do next, as she didn’t want the phone anymore. I suggested that she send the phone back with a copy of the death certificate, and we would cancel the contract. She seemed happy enough with this, and then said that the phone came with a Bluetooth headset, and should she send this back too?

Then my brain broke...

I quite happily suggested that “Yeah, send it back with the phone. Unless he is going to be using it with another handset”

Ohhhhh nooo... what-did-i-just-say-oh-this-cant-be-good...
She just thanked me and hung up. Bollocks.

(not quite a disaster - just could of lost my job i loved! oops)
Pop!
(Soutiejie Is a happy lady on, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 13:27, Reply)

never leave your phone at a house party
a friend of mine's ex-girlfriend once made this most costly of mistakes.

one particularly charitous fellow (not me) got hold of said phone, and sent the following text message to everyone in her address book:

'I want to taste my arse on your cock'.

and when I say everyone, I mean everyone. dad, siblings, work colleagues. you get the picture.
(TheManWithThePlan cussed your mum on, Thu 30 Jul 2009, 13:22, 1 reply)

The Ringtone of DOOOOOOOM
In my second year of university, I picked up a Motorola RAZR, which was a stupid phone with a stupid name which, stupidly, crashed a lot. I did like it for it's thin, clamshell design (which is important, as you'll see) as well as its pretty loud speaker; I am occasionally blissfully unaware of my phone ringing, unless it has a very loud ringtone. The ringtone was quickly changed to something hard and heavy (some may rememeber the RAZR required some *dodgy* software to change the ringtone).

My friends at uni weren't really into my taste in music (and therefore my ringtones) such that Megadeth and Opeth aren't du jour amongst the 'popular' types. It was during the exam period, and at the front of the exam hall we had to leave our bags/phones/dildos/whatever. I arrived with the guys, and left my phone in the front compartment of my bag. Most of my friends had left the exam early, generally due to lack of revision (HA!) or just rushing through the paper.

After this exam was done and dusted, there was a second exam an hour later. As before, all my friends left after a short while, whereas I had actually done some work and was scribbling away. As occasionally happens, a phone ringtone went off. Wait, this wasn't just any ringtone, it was a ham-handedly mixed medley of beelzebub's birthing.

..."Young man, there's a place you can go..."

".. I said *CLICK*.. IT'S RAINING MEN!.."

".. MACHO MACHO MAAAAAAAN!"

finally topped off with a sample of crazy frog *sigh*.

The confusion and hilarity was palpable, everone (including myself) was wondering which loser had such an auditory nightmare as their ringtone. I finished up my paper, handed it in and picked up my bag, and proceeded to walk out, at which point the ringtone started again. I turned around to see if I could figure out which bag this big jug of ear-rape was being poured from, but as I turned, the sound appeared to remain behind me.

Shit. Fuck. What?

What I hadn't counted on was that in leaving early, one of my friends had taken my fucking phone out of my fucking bag when they left, and promptly changed my ringtone before the next exam. The phone was surreptitiously replaced into my bag, and remained untouched until the exam in the afternoon when the trap could be sprung. Now.

I reached into my bag and pulled out the phone, which had now been wound round and stuck shut with duct-tape, and was blaring out the ham-touching mix. The 30 people still sat at their desks stared with contempt at our hero, a long-haired ruffian holding what appeared to be a sticky lump of plastic, a DIY-engineered seer stone that bleated the future in lo-fi camp disco, as he rushed to tear out its soul.

I scrabbled outside to find my 'buddies' collectively micturating in their pantaloons, laughing at my predicament.

Bastards.

In other news, I am currenly eating pineapple jelly, yum.
(Lythium deals in lead, my friend., Thu 30 Jul 2009, 13:18, 3 replies)