No Need - Legal Tip
Word for the wise...

Left a nightclub. 20 yards from my flat a police car stopped and two coppers got out and asked - "excuse me son, are you drunk?"

"Can't see that that's any of your f***ing business" I replied, as I really couldn't.

Night in the cell + £50 fine = No Need.
(Error 404 - Username Unknown, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 15:39, Reply)

Inappropriate music time folks......
I was working nights a few years back, so after a hard shift at t'mill, I get woken up by a friend I've known for years. He asked me if I could help set up a mobile disco type affair for some,'Lonely Hearts', club evening that the chap he normally did disco's with, (and subsequently the same chap who normally did all of the equipment set up too), was too busy with another gig to do. Long story but I was asked as boxes with wires and cables sticking out the back are my speciality, so go figure. Knackered but always willing to help a friend in need I agreed. Much driving around and equipment borrowing ensued, followed by much lugging of heavy boxes and even more fiddling around with phono cables and adapter plugs.

The evening was to run like this:-
People turn up to polite musical backing
People eat
Guest speaker does his thing, (some awful 70's has-bin)
Disco fires up
People, now a bit drunk and gagging for it, fuck off to the hotel rooms that joined onto the hall all this was taking place in.

Still with me? Good, good.

First thing that was a bit iffy was the mic lead. It just wasn't long enough to get to where the boring 70's has-been was going to be sitting. No worries thought I, I'll just splice the mic lead up with this other lead to make it a bit longer. Job was done no problem, cable finally reached the boring 70's has-beens seat with a few meters to spare, (thank the gods for gaffa tape). All the while that I'm getting busy with the swiss army knife to do the splice the boring 70's has-been is moaning about this, that and quite a fair bit of the other. Him? Bitter? Nah.

So after getting the dodgy kit, turntables, mixer, mic's and lights finally set up, people start to drift in. Lonely single people start to fill up this place like a small plague, sitting as far apart from each other as they can in such a snug/small environment. By this point I've been on the go for something like 27 hours, I'm tired, dirty and just a bit out of it as the bar staff were plying me with free beer, (not a good idea if you are tired in the first place, as I was later to find out).
So as most of the hard graft had been done, the kit was working as best as shoddy kit could be made to work and as had been previously agreed between my friend and I, I was now released of my obligations to help and could go back home and hopefully make it into my nice, big bed for much horizontal sleep action. My friend, Mr DJ for the night, decides to put some Bob Marley on for the audience as they arrive. What could be wrong with that eh? Everyone likes a bit o' Bob don't they. So with the music gently circling the air I avail myself to the toilets for a much needed slash prior to my taxi arriving to take me home.

I stand at the urinal, dog-tired, a bit tipsy, (but not too much), happy that I've helped a friend, as is often my want, thinking that it's all been a job well done.

Imagine then my horror, as mid-piss I hear the next track on the 'Legends' album being played.
The next track being, "No woman, no cry".
At a lonely heart's club night!

I've never had to piss so quick in my life, as I knew that my friend, (who was enjoying the free bar no end), wouldn't have noticed the error in tracklisting. I ran out, still zipping up and am greeted with the 70's has-been being just a bit cross about the current song. I pelted it around his rotund girth and quickly informed my friend about his erronious choice of tune, who quickly saw the irony and changed tracks to some Mantovani plinky piano stuff instead. It was an accident, a pure and simple mistake to make as everyone likes a bit o' Bob, don't they?

We still chuckle about it to this day. The uncomfortable looks on the male patrons faces was a pure Polaroid moment and one we shall never forget.

My length, is as alway, the stuff of legend.
( Yamon Benny Harvey. RIP., Fri 17 Jun 2005, 15:28, Reply)

Dont do Drugs, Drugs are baaaad MMMOKAY
in 1992 we did the annual pilgramige to Glastonbury festival, we had a couple of pub aquaintances who were festival virgins, tag along...

we arrived and set up camp without incident.. then got down to the job at hand , getting wasted and listening to some cool sounds..

One of the "virgins" we shall call him Dan for that is his name started quizzing me about dope... whats it like, how does it make you feel, is it addictive... blah, blah, blah i offer him a go on the reeefer that i am smoking which he turns down on the basis that he just cant smoke... I then suggested to him that he might try eating some, i told him in the top pocket of my rucksack there was same flapjacks that had hash in them, he was welcome to try it... the guy ummed and arrhed for a while, well "The Senseless Things" were due to play so i made my excuses and left.

After a jump around and a walk i returned around 3 hours later to base to find Dan... well, totally twatted, i asked him how he felt and he said he was having a bad time, it transpires he had eaten 1 square of my flapjack.. as it has kicked in he had gotten the munchies and eaten half of my stash (about 8 squares)

THERE WAS NO NEED FOR THAT!!!

As time progressed the apprentice Psyconaught got more and more fucked up, ultimately entering the worst state of paranoia i have ever seen. The attempts of me and the rest of the gang to reassure him that he would be fine were falling on deaf ears, he had convinced himself that he had done drugs and fucked his brain, and that he would never be normal againg. I finally tell him that there is a drugs councilling tent where he can go and talk to someone "professional" (though in my hayday there was nobody more professional of dedicated to the fine art of getting wasted than me IMHO :p) if he doesnt believe me this strikes a chord with him and we leave the tent in search of the drug awareness tent..

Upon arrival the scene is like an out take from Naked lunch meets apocolpse now, i have never seen so many fucked up people having such a bad time.. we take our place in the que , in front of us there is a guy who has done far too much Ket... rushing his face off, every so often he would get a massive rush and make this "YYYYahhhayayayayayyaaaahhh" kinda noise. There are people on shrooms, smack etc etc. a Group of 3 old hippies roll up behing us, they start talking to us, it becomes apparent they have dropped alot of acid AND done some fly agaric on top... Space cadets doesnt even come close, any how they are all talking about how wasted they are and all that, it is at that point when one of the Hippies asks Dan "what have you done man?" to which Dan answers "FLAPJACKS"


THERE WAS NO NEED FOR THAT

Talk about way to kill your credability and cool....nob.

Length, i have none, but the girth would win a blue ribbon at a country fair.
(Ickypimp, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 15:12, Reply)

Never spread STI's
A few years ago (well maybe 10) a group of us pulled some college girls in a dodgy club and we ended up all going back to one girls dowm room.
Much necking ensued but eventually we got tired and decided to leave...Mark, one of our mates says "Give me 5 mintues and I'll meet you outside" so off we trot...
The place these girls are living in is a converted Hotel in Falmouth so we're wandering around lost trying to find our way out...we finally find the stairs to the lobby and another mate Duncan decides that he needs to relieve himself, so starts pissing in the dark on the stairs...at this time the owner turns up but due to excellent grouping tactics she doesn'tnotice despite the sound of piss hitting the wall with some force(there's probably no need for this)
...so Duncan finishes and we carry on, saying goodnight to the owner who wanders off, I get confused by the front door and break it off it's hinges (definitely no need for that)
...we hang around outside and eventually Mark turns up, being blokes we all start cheering and asking him whether or not he did the did with her...his reply? "Yeah, I fucked her and gave her a dose as well"...turns out the sadistic bastard had a STI that he'd just started treatment for that day...there was definitely no need for that...
(littleben hasn't anything funny to put here, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 15:07, Reply)

Bad Pint / Appendicitis?
After several uni mates moved to London to seek our fortunes - we all decided to meet up for a drink at a pub where a friend was serving behind the bar.

It was a tippety-top boozy laugh...

... until I got home.

After a night and day of cuddling the bowl and throwing up jet black bile (and trying to eat about 30 Tums to cure what I thought was bad indegestion), I went to hospital.

Once there, a fellow male doctor gave me a rather humiliating and uncomfortable proctological examination.

I was immediately whisked away to have my appendix removed.

Just before falling asleep under anaesthetic I commented on the surgical stockings that I had to wear.

"I haven't worn white stockings before" I said, joking "well, except on Friday nights."

I then awake in a hospital bed minus appendix to see my concerned Mum looking down at me and saying "the operation went well son... now... what's this I hear about dressing up in tights on Fridays?"

Having also lost my job for not phoning in on time, I convalesced in my home town for several weeks.

Once back on my feet and back in London, the phone rang and I decided to meet up with the boys in order to relate my terrible tale of woe.

Sure enough they all nodded and agreed...

"yeah, we were all really ill too. Must've been a bad pint."

A BAD F*@*ING PINT?!? NO NEED FOR THAT. STILL 'URTS.
(Error 404 - Username Unknown, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 14:55, Reply)

ouch
jumping into a swimming pool in france, i end up sat on a foot long piece of industrial wire (hell knows where it'd come from), no need to tell you where it had found itself inserted, so there's me, crying and clambering out of the pool with my new metal tail only to be accosted by the creepy pool attendant -
'can i 'elp you wiz zat??!'
-accompanied with an over exaggerated wink and a smile, now there was no need for that...
(Euphrosne, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 14:38, Reply)

more medical arse banditry
Was suffering from a prolonged bout of shitting blood & agonised, stabbing gut pains. Neither of which I enjoyed, being a contant source of humiliation (try washing the blood off your hands after wiping your ass - fun).

I had a grand total of FOUR different doctors shove their fingers up my arse, I had to take a small pot of my bloody turd to the doctors (on the fecking bus) before being admitted to hospital.

They proceeded to shove TWO FEET of endoscope up my arse to see what ailed me (after three days of starvation). Now, even after a shot of morphine & valium this hurts like fuck - especially when they 'turn the corners'. They hadn't a fucking clue what was wrong with me.

Then they had to do it again. Two weeks later (after three more days of starvation). Only to tell me that the problem would either go away naturally or I could get the lesions on my colon cauterised. Realising I didn't fancy some mad old coot shoving burning things up me jacksy I went home to shit blood in peace until it stopped.

Burning arse invasion? No need for it, I tell you.
(Lord of the Pies, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 14:18, Reply)

PINHEAD
You should come to Manc for a night out with me and my buddies... that sounds like our average Saturday night/ Sunday morning.

Good. Shit.

I surprised a girl with sex, and she told the police. There was NO NEED for that..
(Banky fucking Edwards, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 14:02, Reply)

Little prick
When I was about 9 or 15 my foreskin ‘somehow’ got stuck. After a few days the novelty wore off and my newly engorged bell-end was starting to become uncomfortable to say the least. Not to worry, I’ll tell Mum and she’ll sort me out. She made it worse if anything and off to the hospital we went…

They pinned me down, removed my slips like a nonce on day-release and injected my member with something to reduce the swelling. I screamed like a spastic, there was blood everywhere and I was convinced I would never be able to wank again.

As if that wasn't bad enough, one of the nurses chirped 'There we go - the ‘little’ fella is back to normal again'. Surely to God there was no need for that?
(Stocksie, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 13:53, Reply)

Appendix-a-rama
When I was much younger I woke up with intense stomach pain my mum took me to the doctor who prodded me in my abdomen to see if it hurt. It did! Not content he stuck his latexed finger up my rectum to check from the inside!! Yes, it hurts from that side too!! "Looks like appendicitis, better get to the hospital quick". Err, OK!

At the hospital the nurse checks from the outside ("yes it hurts, we established that...") and then from the inside again! Having had my arse non-molested until that day it was now becoming something of a hobby.

I was admitted to the hospital and put on "nil-by-mouth" so I could have the offending appendix sliced out later. So they starve me all fucking day and the only thing to look forward to is being chopped open. It finally turns midnight (or some such) and the surgeon comes into the ward and says that due to an emergency\fuck up\they can't be fucked as it's too late they decide to do the op tomorrow! Fuck! So they let me have some food; corn flakes with rancid milk! Thanks, just what I’ve always wanted.

So the next morning comes around I'm feeling delirious from lack of food but the intense stomach pain has subsided! Woo! The doctors do some more prodding and decide that "Nah, fuck it. Probably just an inflamed appendix. You can piss off now!" "If it ruptures then come back in".

So after having my guts prodded, my arse violated, the fear of God put into me over being sliced open, starved to delirium, and then fed a concoction of cornflakes and rancid milk my "illness" wasn't even cured. Now there was no fucking need for that!
(winagoldfish, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 13:49, Reply)

Marmite.
- no need for that.
(nappy rash, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 13:40, Reply)

One night in Hackney
Sunday night some guy was like, you comin to a party? I was like, what music do they play? He was like, Techno! So of I go, this sounds like jolly good fun I thought.
He comes over to me and gives me a line of coke I thought hey this is going to be one mad party, so I had some more coke, had some pills and some ket, I was trashed! Just when I thought I couldnt get any worse I drank 15 CANS OF STELLA!!!

boy did my length hurt monday morning.
(pin_head, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 13:31, Reply)

Posting on behalf
of the poor fella on the motorbike on the BBC news today.

news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/hampshire/4102758.stm

Bag explodes on the motorway, containing £10,000 in £20 notes. Motorists stop to help, but only £500 gets back to the guy.

Then, and I quote, "The motorcycle broke down two junctions further down the motorway.".

D and indeed 'oh!
(Tinium, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 13:17, Reply)

Not long ago in Hackney
On a week night, before I was due to get up a 7 the next morning, the neighbours decided to have an impromptu party at 2am. I politely phoned them, asking then to turn it down. They ingored this, so I called environmental health. They said they would send someone around. The music eventually went off at around 3ish, and I went to sleep.

At around 5am, the phone rang. It eventually woke me up, and when I answered, it was environmental health, calling to see if there was still a noise problem.

There was definitely no need for that.
(8-Ball, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 12:49, Reply)

Hurled on hurling
Got a freebie that involved a short "pleasure" cruise. On the Irish Sea. In December. No wonder it was free. 20ft waves pounded the ship with seasickness-inducing fury.

The highlight was when I was talking excitedly with Hughie and Ralph on the big white phone in our cabin's bathroom. The door opens. It's Mrs Calgacus come to check on me. I summon up the strength to lift my head from the loo to reassure her by gasping: "It's OK. I'm all right."

She was promptly sick into the loo. Only, there was an obstacle between her and the loo: my head.

No need.
( calgacus Non sum qualis eram bonae sub regno Cynarae, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 12:18, Reply)

I went sailing...
for the first time last year. I'm still getting to grips with the lovely toilet mechanism (you let sea water in then pump the offending material way with a manual pump) and the handle snaps off in my hands. Maybe i was pumpin too vigirously. Bear in mind there's still sea water pumping into this lav and before you know it it's overflowing and i can't get it to stop. Cue me screaming for help and that the yacht is sinking and water flowing merrily out of the toilet door. The skipper comes down as as if it can't get any worse stares in horror at my first rate poo as it floats past his foot and into the bunkroom. Bugger.
(I've done it so many times it's boring now..., Fri 17 Jun 2005, 12:07, Reply)

That extra touch...
Around a year and a half ago I came down with acute stomach pain. It got worse and worse, and eventually I got my missus to take me to the emergency section of the hospital, where they took me straight in. They asked me lots of questions, poked me and looked all over me, and decided that it was probably appendicitis. Just before they put me on morphine (which was sweet) a different doctor came in, asked me to roll over on my side, and lift my knees up to my chin, as he pulled on a latex glove.

Now, when the doctors had already decided on a course of action, and this test wasn't going to change their mind, why did this one have to stick his finger up my arse?

Plus, why did it have to be done by this Neanderthal with thick fingers, rather than one of the pretty young doctors (with slim fingers) that had been seeing me earlier?

There really was no need for that.
(Skippyfillet, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 12:06, Reply)

not me but a friend...
A friend of mine has just finished a rather lengthy court case where he made accusations of around 20 counts of child molestation...

As if it wasn't bad enough that the defendant was found not guilty, to add insult to injury it now looks like he may be headlining a huge benefit rock concert!

He never apologised for his length so why should I??
(well its not going to suck itself yadda yadda yadda, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 12:00, Reply)

At a summer barbeque
My friend's a bit of a cake detector.

“Would you like a drink” he is asked “A Coke” his reply. He sits down in a plastic garden chair: It's old, been in the sun too long and looks as brittle as a grannies hip. But no, it takes his weight.

He is handed his coke, he starts to drink, the chair explodes, plastic shrapnel flying in all directions. He ends up on the deck, still sitting still on the remains of the seat. Through all the laughter the Revd YC is heard to say…

“You should've had Diet Coke”

The owner then turns up “I thought those chairs weren’t safe, I took them off my grandad five years ago and bought him new ones”.
(Yellow Car is now red, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 11:44, Reply)

Pleasant...
I woke up at about 6 in the morning one Saturday with churning guts/stomach/everything. Somehow made it to the bathroom, and let rip with the most evil bout of food poisoning I've ever succumbed to.

Feeling like crap, but happy I'd managed to contain it all within the realms of the toilet, I reached to fulsh, only to hear a "snap" somwhere deep in the bowels of the cistern, and the handle came away in my hand.

There's something deeply unfair about being ill at a weekend. It's worse when you spend the next few hours alternating between filling up a bucket to "flush" the toilet and having to use it again, knowing you phsyically can't go out to get stuff to repair it with (not that most DIY stores are open at that time anyway).

And I forgot to call my friends who were getting the train down to visit to cancel them coming, meaning I had to spend the day feeling like crap whilst they drank beer and ate junk food in front of me.
(Glis, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 11:34, Reply)

following on from my himalayan escapade (see below)
I went on a skiing holiday 6 months later. two days in, I am reaching up into a cupboard and my shoulder dislocates again, for no reason.

At the hospital they put it back in with no pain killers (there was no need for that) and I had to spend 6 more days sitting immobilised in my apartment when my girlfreind came back every day telling me how great the snow was today (definitely no need for that).

I am now having a CT scan next week where they are going to pump my shoulder full of air first - I'm sure there's no need for that.
(Nathalie Imbruglia's Cellist's Cello, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 10:45, Reply)

NTHell
After struggling along in our old house for a year or so with NTLs frankly shocking levels of service, we take the opportunity when moving house to ditch the useless buggers. We firstly phoned them up to cancel the contract, then when a bill appeared a month later phoned them again. Another month later another bill arrives, so ring them again.. At this point it finally transpired that the first, or indeed second, muppet should have told us to cancel in writing, so we did. We are then informed that they require a months notice of cancellation...grrrr. So anyways, having now paid for 3 months cable TV for a house we don't live in anymore, we finally thought we'd escaped...

Fast forward 3 months and I get a forwarded bill at our new address for outstanding charges on our old account...apparantly we owed them 6 sodding pence. After all the arsing hassle the badger worrying bunch of cockgogglers put us through to cancel a service we weren't using, and after swindling us out of 3 months charges for providing fuck all, there was no need for that..

I paid it on my visa card though so the stupid cnuts had to pay the 50p visa handling fee..that made me feel slightly better..

No apologies, I'm following NTL's business model.
(Hairy_matt, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 10:44, Reply)

from bad to worse
3 days into a 7 day long trek in the himalayas I starting suffering from acute all the symptons of Malaria. It could also have been altitude sickness, as we were camped at 3700 meteres. So the best thing was to get me down off the mountain as quickly as possible (both conditions being potentially fatal).

However I was so disorientated I could barely walk and the nearest place where there was a road was a full day's hike away and we weren't sure that even then there would be anyone to drive me to a village, or whatever, but my condition looked bad so we put me on a horse and we went for it at 5am.

At about 5.10am I got dizzy and fell off the horse and dislocated my shoulder, which is where it went from bad to bloody awful. I had to spend a horrifying 12 hours sat on a horse in agonising pain clutching on for dear life with one hand, thinking I'm dying of malaria in the mountains with a 1000 foot drop to my left most of the way. My other arm was poking out all over the place at a frankly frightening and very unammusing angle.

That was followed by a 3 hour journey in an army truck, followed by a 1 hour ride in a landrover before I got fixed.

sorry for length - there are still a number of horrifying details I left out
(Nathalie Imbruglia's Cellist's Cello, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 10:33, Reply)

Egypt holiday
In my group was the most boring, unfunny man you have ever met in your life. One day we went to the Valley of the Kings which is a dry, hot place, utterly devoid of rain. I took an umbrella with me for shade, telling myself that someone was bound to make a joke about "Expecting rain?" He did, and when I told him through gritted teeth that it was for shade, replied that it was only a joke.

AAAAAAAARRRGGH!
(Glen Moranjie, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 10:23, Reply)

Hospitals.. No Need
Many moons ago, a lad i knew, we'll call him Gary, for that was his name did drink copious amount and vanish from a night out. He re-appeared the next day limping with 2 bent ankles. Turned out he'd wandered into a city centre multi story car park then tried to 'take a short cut' off the 2nd floor.

2 broken ankles, 1 broken leg, 2 broken arms and a broken back. Him in almost comedy full body cast, alá Carry On style.. Needless to say, he didn't want to park his lunch. EVER - Cause he wasn't allowed to get up, they'd just roll him over and slide a board underneath him for him to 'defecate' onto. 7 days i think he lasted before he though he was going explode turds from his ears. Anyways, the nurse had to be present to 'check for normal stools' - and she brought a handful of trainees. Who took it in turns to help wipe his arse once he'd laid the largest chod in history onto the 'turd tray'

No Need.
(TheManofScience, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 9:57, Reply)

Boating Twunt
Me and the missus live in an alright part of our fair city. Problem is is that the neighbour is an unemployed dope smoking, rave music mentalist who thinks is it in the community spirit to get everyone to listen to freaking techno at 3 in the morning. This guy does fuck all and loves it, and it gets on my tits something cronic. And then there are his friends, all of them fucking mindless jobless commonsenseless pissflaps. As was proven when I came home after working away all week quite late and nearly ran into the back of his friends cars that were in our parking bay. I asked him to move it and he said that I should park somewhere else. I disagreed and then edged to the back of his car and pushed the piece of shit maxed out Nova forward by a yard or two. His face was indeed a picture.

Now I don't mind a bit of music, and as Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine prophecised, "The Rhythm is Gonna Getcha", and it invariably does, to the point of going over there and knocking his fucking door in and asking him politely to turn it down or he'll be eating his teeth. I have already made the call on this one.

Now what there is no fucking need for is the cunting boat in the back garden. A cunting boat?!?!?! I work my arse off in a very good job but can ill afford to get a new door for mybeloved mini, let alone a fucking BOAT. Did I mention that he has a fucking BOAT in his back garden? A boat that he has sanded down to within an inch of it's bouyancy. And then, Oh, and then he has to test the twatting engine out. For the love of a good whore, it's never seen a cup of water let alone a lake full of it. I have borrowed a friends air rifle and have now blasted holes in it's hull.

That'll learn the chav bastard, that'll learn him.

/end Captain Jobless rant

P.S. First Post, Big Hand Clap!!

Just becasue you're not feeling anything doesn't mean I lack length or girth. Have you ever thought it could be because of your baggy cnut?
(matflat, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 9:45, Reply)

at the local hospital for ladies' bits...
...had to go in for a routine check, but my nice friendly swiss gynaecologist was off on holiday for 3 months so he made an appointment for me at the hospital instead. OK, not as nice as his office with the lovely cushions in the changing room, but ok, i thought. wrong.

1) i had to walk down a long corridor with wearing only a too-short paper gown, desperately trying to cover my front bottom
2) i walked in and there were 3 scary hairy women in the room
3) when they moved over the blinding light to peer up my love canal, i realised that the larger-than-life projection of a vagina on the tv was not a video but ME!!!
(on the plus side i now know i have a mole on the left inner labia).
3) a colleague walked in and after asking 'do you mind' (scary hairy II said no of course not - thanks) 5 MEDICAL STUDENTS walked in and took it in turns to peer at my cervix. Apparently my lovely gyno had forgotten to mention it was a training hospital...

Anyway, to add insult to injury, all 9 of them conferred and decided this tiny but apparently dubious-looking bump that I had never noticed had to be lasered off the next week (22nd December) and i can tell you, having a) an injection into your tender bits and then b) having a huge laser burn off skin there can really really spoil your christmas holidays.

no apologies for depth.
(chesty, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 9:44, Reply)

At work one day,
we were going to site with a particularly arsey customer, we had been there the day before and had grief all day. We promised we would be back at 8:30 the next morning. We arrived around 10, the guy comes up to us and shouts 'You should have been here at 8:30', the numpty with me asks him 'Why? What happened?'

Cunt, we got a thoroughly miserable day with no tea out of the fucker.
( DrPoppers Touched by his noodly appendage, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 9:16, Reply)

AS art lesson last year
Using a lino cutter to file out some kind of fish shape, the cutter slides across the material and slices into my hand.

I recall the countless times my teacher has told us to "take care with the lino cutter, ive seen too many accidents happen"

Cue her walking over to me. I hide my rapidly bleeding hand under the desk. With the cutter still in the other, the teacher advises me to "take care with..."
(The Man From Del Monte, Fri 17 Jun 2005, 8:58, Reply)