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This is a question Nativity Plays

Every year the little kids at schools all over get to put on a play. Often it's christmas themed, but the key thing is that everyone gets a part, whether it's Snowflake #12 or Mary or Grendel (yes, really).

Personally I played a 'Rich Husband' who refused to buy matches from some scabby street urchin. Never did see her again...

Who or what did you get to be? And what did you have to wear?

(, Thu 26 Mar 2009, 17:45)
Pages: Latest, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, ... 1

This question is now closed.

It's only qotw for goodness sake- one tiny part of the internet. Get a grip- the question will change soon enough.
(, Fri 3 Apr 2009, 8:57, 1 reply)
Just come on here fro some QOTW goodness (Heres hoping), and still you have this dross on here. FFS! Aaargh. And even a Grrrrr. Get it sorted. Please.
Poor seller, will not use again. D-.
(, Fri 3 Apr 2009, 8:53, Reply)
I would like the mods to know
that it's my birthday today. And you ruined my birthday. I hope you feel good about yourselves, I'm stuck here at work, on my birthday, on a Friday, and I don't even have a new QOTW to console me.
(, Fri 3 Apr 2009, 8:50, Reply)
Come on mods, don't get Auntie Blouse angry.
You wouldn't like me when I'm angry.

(, Fri 3 Apr 2009, 8:47, 3 replies)
as much as I have hated the last couple of QOTW's, there have been so many complaints lately that I think the mods are just fucking with us to prove a point (after all, they did post something about the complaints in the newsletter last week!)

Oh, and on a nativity theme, I once played Dasher, Dancer, Prancer and Vixen........Comet, Cupid, Donner and Blitzen were played by the girl next to me.
(, Fri 3 Apr 2009, 8:16, 2 replies)
Children, children...I can let you in to a secret.
The reason why there is a delay in the new QOTW being posted is that even as we speak, the B3TA wizards are dredging through reams of old QOTW suggestions and sorting them in order of popularity. They will then ask the most popular question as the next QOTW. Honest.

I really must stop taking acid this early in the morning.
(, Fri 3 Apr 2009, 7:58, Reply)

(, Fri 3 Apr 2009, 7:53, 1 reply)
Is it me going mad or isn't it FRIDAY. That's the day after Thursday.
(, Fri 3 Apr 2009, 7:21, 3 replies)
Vacuum cleaners?
I don't like them. At all. In fact, I hate them.

Fucking vacuum cleaners. They suck!!!
(, Fri 3 Apr 2009, 6:54, Reply)
mumble mumble mumble BLOOOOOOO!
If you don't understand the title of this post, you are a fortunate person and have clearly never had to be in the choir for Joseph and His Technicolour Dreamcoat.

I image those of us who have had this miserable pleasure are all smirking, but for those who don't, allow me elucidate:

There is a song, the dullest song in this dull musical,which forces a choir of miserable brats (legs crossed on the hard floor and going numb of course) to sing the many, many hues of said wonderous coat. Including such shades as Ochre, Russet, Azure and Olive. No, really.

What are the chances of any choir remembering that crap, if the nazi teacher won't let you use the lyrics on the Big Day?

Its not like they are on the actual coat that 'Joseph' is sporting, on account of it being a reject from the 1970's and probably still smelling of hemp. Invaribly, the *true* technicolour song therefore goes:

It was red and yellow and green and brown
And scarlet and black and ochre? and mumble?

(only the anal ones are still singing now)

And mumble and mumble and mumble and mumble
And mumble and mumble and mumble and mumble
And mumble and mumble and mumble and mumble

For true authenticity, on striking the word 'blue', the choir should all errupt with relief and sound like the mating call of a rhino.

If that does not occur, its not a real production of Joseph and his Technicolour Dreamcoat.
(, Fri 3 Apr 2009, 6:40, Reply)
My favourite part of nativity plays...
Is the ending.
(, Fri 3 Apr 2009, 6:24, Reply)
Is the new QoTW - this one was almost as bad as mixtapes...
(, Fri 3 Apr 2009, 4:44, Reply)
Oh lord
Is this still running?
(, Fri 3 Apr 2009, 3:03, 2 replies)
(, Fri 3 Apr 2009, 2:07, Reply)
Wasn't going how I wanted so I gave up

(, Fri 3 Apr 2009, 1:50, Reply)
Never played in a Nativity before
I've been the colour Red during a play once (that gay "i can sing a rainbow" song)

Can i have last post?
(, Fri 3 Apr 2009, 1:50, Reply)
As I got First...
can I get last so I can be the Alpha and Omega to this QOTW?

It would only be fitting, you know.
(, Fri 3 Apr 2009, 1:30, 4 replies)
Much like Jesus
This QOTW refuses to die.


Still, it's Easter soon, so we can look forward to the "who have you seen come back to life" question.


Always look on the bright side of life...
(, Fri 3 Apr 2009, 1:25, Reply)
B3ta nativity play - Act 4
The Greatest Story Ever Told The Never-ending Story.
(, Fri 3 Apr 2009, 0:50, 1 reply)
I played Emperor No Dough
in our version middle school christmas play "Alladin and his Wonderful Gamp". I've no idea why it was gamp and not lamp and the fact that Emperor No Dough was penniless raised as many chuckles then as it has now. Sorry to have wasted your time but frankly if you've kept reading into day eight (8)! Of this QOTD, you've clearly little else to do...

Pardon the length, it was only meant to last a week...
(, Fri 3 Apr 2009, 0:45, Reply)
"Do you remember when the nativity QOTW started, father?"
asked my boy.

I sat him on my lap and replied:

"Son, I can honestly say I don't. I know I was around your age when it first cropped up, you loveable little scamp," I ruffled the boy's hair. "But over the long years, all that trouble with World War Three, then the alien invasion and conquest of Earth, the rise and fall of the machine men, and all that trouble with the super-intelligent racehorses running amok and controlling Washington for seven long, barley-filled decades... Well, my memories just not what it used to be. But I did check B3ta a few minutes ago and they still have the Nativity question open - I just think its something we're going to have to learn to live with now. Forever... And ever... And ever..."

"What about the dragons, father?" asked my boy. "Tell me about the dragons! You know, when they came and took you away to their cave and made you do unspeakable things to their genitles?"

"Ahh, son," I laughed. "Go and get my belt."

"Of course, father," and off he runs, returning momentarily with my belt.

"Now, drop your pants and bend over - you know we never ever ever EVER talk about the fucking DRAGONS in this house!"
(, Fri 3 Apr 2009, 0:26, 7 replies)
Code blue...
Crash call; we have a QOTW needing Rescus.

Charging... Clear! (zzt!) Asystole.
Charging... Clear! (zzt!) Asystole.
Charging... Clear! (zzt!) Asystole.

No output... time of QOTW death 00:23. Inform the next question.

(Inaccurate, I know. Do not use this post as a basis for lifesaving efforts.)
(, Fri 3 Apr 2009, 0:24, 1 reply)
Maybe this should be put in "QOTW suggestions"
I suggest, and I know I might sound crazy but, hear me out!

That a QOTW should last for no longer than A WEEK.

Especially ones that users have been bitching and flouncing about all week.

I've quite enjoyed this weeks, but ffs, let it END!!!
(, Fri 3 Apr 2009, 0:13, 2 replies)
Primary School.
Age 7.

Or maybe 9.

Something like that.

The classic Nativity play.
It was to run for two nights, and it was discovered that the boy who was to play innkeeper number 3 would not be available for the second night.
A despairful silence descended, until one young proud soldier arose and declared "Fear not, for I shall be the saviour of the theatre"*
All at once there was a rapturous applause and I was whisked to the stage to practice my lines.....

The evening arrived, i had spent the previous night being sick, the sound of the vomit splattering onto the carpet as the acrid smell arose to my nostrils will stay with me to the day that I die.
I waited, dreading my moment of glory, unbeknown to me how I would conquer the parent-sodden hall.

Finally it was my moment.
Verse 3 was mine. A solo. I stood, with a fake wooden door, which I abruptly slid aside and opened my mouth. The sound which ejaculated forth from between my jaws was that of almighty monotone wonderment...

"Don't go knocking here.
Don't go knocking there.
There's guests in every room,
there's no room we can spare.


And into the chorus it went.

Well, i felt euphoria sweep my to the heavens and back, the song finished and there was applause. Possibly for the other singers, or more likely for my undeniably majestic perfomance.

The rest of the play was a huge anti-climax, as the audience had already peaked, and were spent, as the counted the remaining minutes of terrible acting and "Ahhhhing" and "Awwwwing".

I had become a star, I had exploded onto the scene like a tiny heterosexual John Barrowman....and I never acted or sang again.

But Mum bought me a Fry's Peppermint Cream.
Although I wasn't allowed to tell my sister.

*or possible whimpered, I can do it, maybe, please, sorry?
(, Thu 2 Apr 2009, 23:59, 2 replies)
Proud Father
My dad moved to the UK from Italy when he was fifteen. Couldn't speak a word of the Queen's, was pretty much dropped in it to help support a large extended family back in southern Italy; it was pretty common for my relatives over there to bake dough for bread cut with sawdust to make their food last that little bit longer. Times were hard. My dad ended up in the bloated industrial heartland of the Midlands, working in a foundry in Coventry. It was the type of place where industrial accidents were par for the course. I recall my old man telling me how one time he saw this poor fella's arm melt, just dissolve away when he slipped and fell into a pool of molten metal. It was a hard time, the late fifties / early sixties in Coventry.

And my dad was one really hard bastard.

As a result of being made to be a man at the age most boys are still sitting in their bedroom's, playing Playstation and masturbating, my dad was pretty aloof.

I didn't really have much contact with him when I was growing up. Except, of course, for the occasional telling off for doing something incredibly fucking stupid, immature, or downright evil.

But the fondest memory of my dad while I was growing up was when he came to a nativity. Most of the times he worked weird shifts and couldn't come - probably explains why I was usually such a little terror. But this year I was good as gold. I was a shepherd, and a fucking brilliant one. I shepherded my arse off on stage, all the time sneaking a look at my dad, sat with his arm round my mum, beaming and smiling at me. I wasn't used to him beaming and smiling - it made me feel great, it really did.

I had a line, I'll never forget it:

"Look, the sheep have all gone to sleep!"

And I delivered it perfectly and went and stood at the back like a good little boy.

And at the end we all bowed, all us little tykes on stage. And I watched nervously as my dad, a great big bear of a man, got to his feet and clapped and smiled.

It really was an amazing feeling to see my old man was proud of me, a smile on his face, not looking tired and grimey like I usually saw him when he'd come home from a shift.

He's a great bloke now I'm an adult - but as a child I'd say that was the only real time we made a connection.

Me as the perfectly behaved little shepherd, him as the hard-as-nails foundry man who'd knocked off work early (forefitting a shitload of pay no doubt which he probably couldn't afford to be without), to see his boy prance round with a tea towel on his head.

Thanks, dad - you're a star!
(, Thu 2 Apr 2009, 23:42, 6 replies)
Welcome to
(question of the week and a bit)
(, Thu 2 Apr 2009, 22:46, Reply)
Woo yay!
Thank you b3tards for leaving this open so long...I found the bestest nativity-play story ever!!!
(, Thu 2 Apr 2009, 22:42, 3 replies)
Now it all makes sense!

The reason they've chosen 'Nativity Plays' as a QOTW is because they're going to leave it open until cunting DECEMBER!
(, Thu 2 Apr 2009, 22:10, Reply)
Perhaps it's punishment
for being such a whinging bitch on page one.

Sorry :(
(, Thu 2 Apr 2009, 21:31, 2 replies)

This question is now closed.

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