Every month....
...on pay day.

How on earth can the government justify taking that much of my salary while at home we make decisions like pay the electricity bill or buy food to eat.
(golddust QOTW now revolves around being a cunt, Thu 8 Aug 2013, 12:20, 11 replies)

When I worked in London one of my good friends was my co-worker Amanda.
We used to get lunch together most days and if the boss was out we'd stretch lunch out to two hours and have a nice sit down meal, all while gossiping like the cast of mean girls. One day, as we were being seated, Amanda was telling me about her plans that night, she had a second date with a "really sexy Irish woman". Amanda nipped off to the loo just before the waiter came over. I ordered our meals and a glass of wine for myself, the waiter asked "and your friend, what shall she be drinking?"
"Oh, Mandy, fur cup."
(Roger McGough-Pipe, Thu 8 Aug 2013, 12:16, 1 reply)

She broke my heart ...
So I ripped hers out.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 8 Aug 2013, 9:55, 2 replies)

I cried when Robert G. Barrett died.

(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Thu 8 Aug 2013, 8:33, 25 replies)

One Hell of a Turd!
The time was 8AM, and my anus was starting to feel cramped. Maybe it was the chicken kebabs I had eaten- mayhaps it was the visit to 'Wok This Way' last night and all the sushi I'd sampled. Perhaps it was the 10 pints of Pale Ale I had guzzled the night before. Maybe it was merely the psychological noose that I'd be leaving soon, and if I didn't expel my bowels now, I could be waiting for hours. All I knew was I needed to shite. And fast.

'Riddle me dee, riddle me doo. There's nothing wrong with an early morning poo.' I chanted to myself. Walking into the toilet I felt as if it was just a necessity that'd all be over soon- wham, bam, thankyou ma'am. No big issue. Little did I know, I was dancing into the danger zone.

As I had a nice, solid shite, I thought to myself 'This one's looking like a straight 10 on the sphincter scale.' I finished up and wiped my ass. It's always been part of my morals to never leave the toilet until at least 3 sheets of toilet paper had been firmly rubbed over my ass and came out of it pure, solid white. I had reached that point, and it was time to flush. The flush led to a blockage. 'Not a problem,' I thought, grabbing the toilet brush, 'I'll push it down.' I grabbed the end of the toilet brush and thrusted the other end into the deepest bowels of the toilet bowl, making sure not to go too low and get my hands dirty. After a bit of grafting, I decided to go for another flush. Pushing down on the lever, I expected all my problems to go away. Imagine my horror as things took a turn for the worse.

The toilet bowl rose with water that was becoming a bilious tone of brown. Clumps of toilet roll were floating around in the swampy matter. Lumps of shite had even found their way onto the toilet brush. Absolutely abhorrible. Disgusting. I knew I couldn't risk another brushing, no one wants to see shite all over the family toilet brush. The only option was another flush, but I had to wait for the water to sink low enough so as not to overflow the bowl. It's times like these I start to think of inventing a toilet bowl with a point of reference for when it's safe to take another flush, it's moments like these it's really needed. But, alas, I was without any point of reference, and the water didn't seem to be moving an inch. I knew it was risky- but I took the final flush.

My heart pounded as the Ghanian Soup began to climb its way up the bowl, closer and closer to the tip. I felt like this was a life or death matter- I can't see myself maintaining any will to live if I happened to get flooded with brown, shitty water. Just as the offensive matter reached the last millimeter of the toilet bowl, I held my breath. I closed my eyes. I started to become nauseous and faint, in pure fright at the vision of what was about to happen. Just as soon as I was ready to pass out, I heard a sharp, galloping noise. I opened my eyes and watched as all my problems flushed away through the pipes, leaving the toilet as clean as an obsessive-compulsive volleyball coach's whistle. It was over. I had looked the devil in the eyes, and came out alive on the other side.
(SirStromming, Thu 8 Aug 2013, 6:49, 4 replies)

Since I'm not allowed to post fullstops anymore

(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Thu 8 Aug 2013, 6:34, 21 replies)

Some things hurt more than cars and girls.

( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Wed 7 Aug 2013, 21:50, 5 replies)

I know it's over, still I cling
I don't know where else I can go.
(McChinaman banned, Wed 7 Aug 2013, 21:20, 1 reply)

Not me, you understand..
But my non-beat clapping ex who ruined Pokey La Farge, also (nearly) ruined War Horse, by bursting into tears while looking through the programme..In it is a painting called Goodbye Old Man.. she wept like a baby, but composed herself until about 20 minutes into the play...
(lordy lordy, Wed 7 Aug 2013, 20:40, 3 replies)

She's gone.
I better learn how to face it.
( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Wed 7 Aug 2013, 18:59, Reply)

As I write this, I struggle to keep a single tear from sliding down my cheek
But I will be strong.

I am NOT tubby.
( MatJ LOOK, Wed 7 Aug 2013, 17:59, 9 replies)

I took a long hard look at myself in the mirror
and told myself to stop being such a pussy and just answer the rubbish question even though i didn't want to.


bindun?
( Reme Philips laid an epic dump on, Wed 7 Aug 2013, 17:08, 3 replies)

Its my 40th birthday on Sunday
I am therefore going to have to MTFU to prevent myself descending into a pit of despair as i pass out of my youth and become officially middle aged. I suspect that copious amounts of alcohol will assist me in cushioning the blow.
Shortly before i don my slippers and flat cap and start smoking a pipe.
(andythepieman Is surfing the waves of indifference on, Wed 7 Aug 2013, 9:49, 44 replies)

Mrs Airman Gabber broke both ankles whilst on holiday in Spain.
The amount of stress I went through sorting out new hotels and travel arrangements with the insurance company drove me to Sambuca - it was the only way I could get to sleep at night.

We had to wait 12 hours until the insurance company agreed to authorise the operation but after 3 days I managed to spring her from the (fortunately private) hospital where she'd had one ankle pinned - they wanted to keep her in until she was fit to fly.

For the next 3 days I ended up wheeling her around between bars and restaurants until she was declared fit to fly home. Yes we were the poor sods you look on with pity on holiday. After being hoisted into the cabin in some glorified cherry picker she had an entire row of seats to herself. At the airport there was an ambulance waiting to take us home.

The only upside - It was in the last 3 days of the holiday and because she wasn't fit to fly we got to stay an extra 3 days courtesy of Nat West Insurance and one of the hotels was so fancy the courtesy cars were a Mercedes McLaren SLR 722 and a Maybach.

Pro Tip: Always get the best holiday insurance you can. If we hadn't had the Banks insurance and emergency assistance I don't know what I'd have done.

Here's the 'after' X-Ray:



Here's a photo of the medication she was on, including an injection she had to administer to herself every morning:


( Airman Gabber Living life like a 70's BBC presenter, Wed 7 Aug 2013, 9:35, 15 replies)

I've had me share of broken bones, but nothing to write home about.
(though a herniated disc in my back put them all in the shade, pain-wise. Unremitting agony for 2 weeks solid). Anyway this one is about my brother, who has a job maintaining mountain bike trails in the mountains of British Columbia, his best girl by his side. One day he was out chainsawing a large fir that had fallen across the trail, partialy broken. As he severed it from the stump, the tension in the tree caused it to buck back up, in the blink of an eye ripping open his leg from his calf to his groin, pulling out muscles, making a mess of his knee joint, and severing his femoral artery. They say he lost almost two litres of blood in the first minute before he was able to take off his belt and tornique his thigh. Fighting to keep himself conscious, he then took out his cell and called help, and stayed on the line to guide them to his position, a very long couple of hours.
He was lucky in that the nearest hospital happened to have a visiting vascular surgeon, one of the best in Canada, and he was able to repair the arteries and save the leg from amputation. He still skis (my brother that is, I don't know about the surgeon) but has a limp and some impressive scars. there is a time in life for keeping your shit together
( cumquat may will not be commenting further on the allegations, Wed 7 Aug 2013, 1:33, 5 replies)

After 26 miles, it started to hurt.
But I still had 7 miles to go. Mere marathons are for lightweights, see.

My knee was proper fucked at this point. Bending the leg at all was painful, but trying to run on it was eye-watering. It would have been nice to stop then, but I had charidee sponsorship and all that - think of the poor kiddies.

So I hobbled on, shredding my ligaments further, stumbling over the footpaths up and down the hills. It took about an hour and a half to run that last 7 miles - the slowest I've ever done, I think.

Going home the next day, every gear change was a horrible grinding shred as I flexed my knee on the clutch. Had to be done though - back to work, and all that.

Raised over 400 quid, too - but I mostly just wanted to know I could run six hours straight cross-country.
( Invisible Wizard - 9th Level Pissant, Tue 6 Aug 2013, 21:51, 3 replies)

I've killed six prostitutes

( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Tue 6 Aug 2013, 20:18, 65 replies)

My daughter when she was 8 years old
She was out in the boat with us when we a pulling up some nets we'd left out over night. Unfortunately we'd managed to catch not one, but three young seals.

As we set about untangling their corpses from the nets I was concerned that she might find it all a bit too much an asked her if she was alright.

"Yeah" she replied before adding "Can I take their eyes out?"

Not sure if she was MTFU or psychoing TFU. She hasn't shown any other serial killer tendencies since.
(Brigadier an old boot sitting on a man's face - forever, Tue 6 Aug 2013, 20:07, 15 replies)

Anyone using the ignore function should MTFU.

( Fucking hell Jeff I am not a robot, Tue 6 Aug 2013, 18:37, 19 replies)

Catching mice
Capitan Fuckin' Positive's post reminded me, a while back I caught a mouse in my kitchen. It was just sitting on the worktop staring at me when I turned on the light, probably a bit too surprised to move and hoping I'd just go away.

Of course then what could I do with it? Throw it outside? Then it would just come back in. No, I needed a humane way to kill it. I could have just left it in the jar I'd dropped it into with the lid screwed down until it suffocated but that seemed a bit cruel. I know, car exhaust!

Right, let's start my car. Oh, it's been sitting parked for a couple of weeks and has run out of electricity. Bugger. Right, let's try my girlfriend's car. No, I can't find the keys and they're probably in the bedroom where she is asleep. Let's not wake her up with a mouse in a jar, eh? Okay, and the van is diesel which has non-toxic exhaust fumes.

So that is how I came to be standing in the back garden at 3am in my underwear trying to kick-start a recalcitrant motorbike, to provide some carbon monoxide to do away with a mouse that had probably already died of boredom.
(gordonjcp, Tue 6 Aug 2013, 17:59, 3 replies)

I killed a mouse once.
the cats had been at it and there was no way it would survive, so the quickest and most humane way I could find to end it's suffering was to hit it very hard with a brick. A small thing maybe but I am a complete wuss in these matters and it still makes me feel shitty to think about it.
( CQ Knows the truth, all of it., Tue 6 Aug 2013, 15:50, 10 replies)

Damsel saves a gentleman in distress
At the moment I'm staying with my parents who have a hotel in the tropics.

The other night a man came up and asked me to please remove a couple of spiders from his room as they were too big and he couldn't handle them.

He was at least 2m tall and must have weighed around 120kg.

I am a 1m60 female and tip the scales at 48kg after a big dinner.

I gently ushered the (2 inch - which is tiny here) spiders out of his room with my hands while his girlfriend stared at him in disgust.

I don't think he got any that night.
(snakelady, Tue 6 Aug 2013, 15:38, 10 replies)

I went off the internet for four days. I missed you all so much.
Pricks.
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Tue 6 Aug 2013, 15:17, 19 replies)

My friend went into labour at about 3am when I was stumbling out of a nightclub
She used to rent a house across the road from me so I was a port of call.
Legged it home in a very mortal state and we got a taxi to the hospital.
Quite a scary and awesome experience all at the same time. She was off it on gas and air, outing me to the nurses who thought I was the father. I was off it on everything else and trying to stay sane while she gave birth right in front of me.

Quite a proud moment but I politely declined when the nurse asked if I wanted to see after she had "crowned" (I still shudder now).

Cut the cord and everything :)
( GeordieJay Bummers are deaf, Tue 6 Aug 2013, 15:06, 10 replies)

that time I was shot.
twice.
(Kip, Tue 6 Aug 2013, 14:58, 1 reply)

Les Misérables...
Dragged to the cinema earlier this year by the better half, there appeared to be a bawling outbreak of epidemic proportions during the screening of the Movie. I've not seen that many tissues in a cinema since Debbie Does Dallas.
Approaching the end, when Wolverine is about to die, I nearly, very nearly, got caught up in the outbreak, too engrossed in the storyline, and shed a tear.
Then I remembered I'd sat through over 2 and a half hours of this, including Russell Crowe singing, and came to my senses. The only decent sound Crowe makes in the film is the satisfying 'crack' as he hits solid ground near the end.
( The Great Architect is still waiting for his account to be deleted on, Tue 6 Aug 2013, 14:18, 1 reply)

The last time I had to restrain a tear
was when I found the last half of a beer in the place and discovered someone had put a cigaret in it.
(the other guy not the one that gave you coochie warts, Tue 6 Aug 2013, 13:35, 6 replies)

My folks live in that there countryside.
You know - full of farms and wildlife and such like. For a while they kept chickens for a bit of recreation, free eggs and the like.

As animals do from time to time, one of them got ill. The folks separated her from the rest of the flock so that nothing would spread - did all the right sorts of things, but it became apparent that this chook was on a downward slope.

Dad didn't have it in him to wring the chicken (to be fair I doubt I would have either). Resulting in:

A visit to the vet,

In a farming community,

With a chicken,

To have it put down.

I'm not sure that he ever fully felt he could hold his head up high in the town after that.

EDIT Bonus points for completely failing to read the question, anyone?
( barryheadwound Mul-ti-pass? Multipass!, Tue 6 Aug 2013, 13:11, 19 replies)

Actually, I do have a story that fits this - not me, but my uncle, two years ago.
He's in his late sixties, and has a house in the middle of nowhere in Scotland.

He was up a tree, tidying it with a chainsaw.

Ropes, harness - that sort of "up a tree, tidying it".

He called out to his son, who was visiting, to come over. On his arriving from the other side of the garden, my uncle said to him calmly, in his usual, moderated and quiet voice, "I think we might have an A&E situation here."

On going through one of the branches, he'd gashed his thigh with the chainsaw, to the tune of needing 25 stitches.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Tue 6 Aug 2013, 12:51, 5 replies)

You know of the film "Marley and me"?
You know the scene where the dog dies?

Yes?

Well, I was caught wanking to it.
( Muns, Tue 6 Aug 2013, 12:47, 3 replies)