PIN Number
"Put in your PIN number, please..."

Why do people insist on asking for my personal identification number number?

I know there are worse things in the world but you did ask!
(eesnahk, Fri 2 May 2008, 15:50, 3 replies)

5 pence coins
why? what's the point of them? they're small, fiddly and annoying. i've never felt the need to spend 5p on anything. i find 1p and 2p coins similarly objectionable, but the 5p is just so infuriatingly small... rage, that's what they make me feel.
(notjustahatrack peeling a sausage..., Fri 2 May 2008, 15:48, 1 reply)

People that believe the papers

Seriously you fucking cretin, do you really believe what the papers say.

Does a tiny part of your moth riddled brain not for one nano second entertain the thought that maybe, just maybe the talentless lazy hacks have sexed up the story to suck you in.

"Ooh shiny shiny" cry the easily distracted proto-mongs.

Any sort of attention seeking drivel of a headline and the cawing old coffin dodgers and bullish van drivers are bemoaning the demise of LIFE AS WE KNOW IT. read between the lines and you'll soon notice that nothing has happened at all.

GET TO FUCK YOU FUCKTARDS
( Naked Ape call me Caitlyn, Fri 2 May 2008, 15:46, 1 reply)

Apple Macs
I'm sure I won't be the first to kick off over these awful bloody 'my-first-computer' devices, here’s the shortlist:

The mouse only has one fucking button! The mouse on my PC has 5 different buttons AND a wheel! So, you want me to press a button on the keyboard to right click on something? Fuck off.

The way the windows scrunch up and slide off the bottom of the screen when you minimize them, it makes me feel like I’m going to be sick every time I see it.

The way icons bounce up and down in the task bar like the annoying kid in school that wants the teacher to pick them to answer the question, 'Oooh Miss! Miss! Miss! Pick me! Ooooh I’ve finally finished loading, oh oh oh look I’m so pleased with myself!'

The @ key ain't where it aught to be.

The way the desktop icons are just all over the place, when ever I use one I have to neatly line up all the icons down the left hand side before I can do anything else.

The way people on TV and in movies always seem to be using the bloody things and never a PC (I'm looking at you 'Sex in the City').

Those fucking Mitchell and Webb Mac adverts.

...In fact every single Mac advert ever made.

Mac People, the people who love them and go on and on about how they are so much better for Photoshop or video editing, they aren't, ok? They just fucking aren't.

iTunes? Fucking iTunes? Don't you know there are lots and lots of diffrent ways to download the same files for nothing?

iPods? Don’t get me started! You show me someone who has an iPod, uses it everyday, and has it still working after a year and I’ll show you a fucking liar.

I think that'll do for now, if I've left anything off please add more.

Length, Girth, Whatever.
(Dean, Fri 2 May 2008, 15:44, 13 replies)

Kate Thornton
Every night, before I go to sleep, I thank my lucky stars that I am not a bloke and, therefore, there is a 0.00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 % chance that I will ever put my cock inside of her.
(TheSnark oh, c'mon, like you didn't see me coming, Fri 2 May 2008, 15:41, 3 replies)

when you try to use the lift
And someone darts in just as the doors are closing...

Which doesn’t seem so bad, but when you’re at the train station in Liverpool James street station, and you know your train in due in 3 minutes, the lift starts to close; someone races across the ticket office, slams their hand between the door and it slowly reopens. You hear a few sighs from the back of the lift.

You know it will be another 30 seconds before the lift comes back to life to close. By which time more dickheads run on to the open lift stopping the doors from closing - prolong your torture.

You know everyone in the lift is silently screaming obscenities at the new lift passenger.

You reach the platform to see you train pull away, and the guy who caused it all leisurely walks onto the next train without battering an eyelid.

I then wait 30 mins for my train.

suntcocks!
(Dan dan dan They tik urh jerbs!!!, Fri 2 May 2008, 15:40, Reply)

TV fucking licensing people!
I DONT have a fucking TV!
I TOLD YOU I dont have a TV many times!
And I'm NOT FUCKING SCARED of your constant, shitty threat letters! Come round with your gay little van if you want, i don't care!


...phew! this is like therapy.
(biggiantmat, Fri 2 May 2008, 15:38, 4 replies)

Could you
move down a bit please.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Fri 2 May 2008, 15:38, 1 reply)

Pro-lifers and Anti-vivsectionists
They make me very angry.

I really think there should be a form that people can fill out promising never to use/be given anything that has ever been tested on animals in any circumstance. Until you do - please go away and do not talk to me about how cruel it is. It's the best option we have for making sure new medicines are not going to kill us. Don't like the fluffies being tested - come here let me inject you with this.

Also abortion - my body, definately my choice (preferably after honest and frank talks with father of ball of cells). In no way should religious types be allowed anywhere near this kind of decision.
(The Ginger Penguin la la la la la la, Fri 2 May 2008, 15:38, 2 replies)

Long peeve
Becky sat on the bed wondering what the night would hold in store for her. The excitement and anticipation mounted with each moment, as she waited for Leo to arrive. They had met on line and became chatroom lovers only months before. Now in a dark hotel room she waited.

It was a balmy night in Allentown. Leo needed a drink to relax his shaky nerves before he met the women of his dreams. She was beautiful, intelligent and very sexy. He finished his shot of bourbon and left the bar. The hotel was next door; the room number burned into his memory, "Room #8". He stood staring at the door not sure of what he would do "if." There were so many ifs!

He turned the knob. The door opened to a darken room. Leo knew that she was there; he could smell the perfume she had told him she wore. From the other side of the room, Becky rose to greet him. She was in awe of the silhouette standing before her, tall and lean. She greeted him in a deep sultry voice, "Good evening my love." Becky stood there breathless as Leo approached his movement strong and masculine. Her heart pounded as he drew closer. Leo, thinking about how he had waited so long for this moment, imagining how she would feel in his arms, reached out to take her hand. He pulled her to him, taking in her scent as he embraced her in his powerful arms. The softness of her lush body molded to his firm form, melting together as though she was very much a part of him.

Taking her face in his hands, Leo bent slightly to kiss her deep and long, causing Becky to swoon, her knees growing weak. Scooping her up, Brock carried her to the nearby bed. Gently he placed her on the bed. Becky reached to hastily unbutton Leo's crisp linen shirt. The spicy smell he exuded permeated the night air, driving Becky wild with passion. The need to devour him overtook her. A rush of memories of how they played on line filled her head.

Leaning into his body, she began to remove his shirt, kissing her way down his muscular chest, with each button she undid. Licking his nipples; tasting his spicy heated flesh. Leo held her head close, guiding her head down the length of his body, needing her to release the flame that burned deep with in him.

Leo lay back, giving Becky full control of his body. Disrobing him piece by piece, Becky explored his body as though she already knew every inch. Familiarizing herself with what she had played with in her mind over and over again. Releasing Leo's belt with trembling fingers, she knew he was well endowed from the description he had given her in their hours of play. Slowly, Becky pealed down his form fitting leather pants, exposing the treasure she sought. She saw man cock spring to life before her eyes -- Not quite what she had expected. To her relief, Leo's cock was not as large as she had thought.

Leaning forward, she gently kissed the head of his cock, feeling the silky softness with her lips as she rubbed it across her full lips. Her tongue, flicking out between her lips, teased the head of Brock's cock. Wrapping her tongue around his cock, she slowly sucked it into her hot wet mouth. Becky could hear a groan escape from Leo's throat. As his hands tangled into Becky's short red hair, guiding his cock deep into her throat, she sucked hard on his member. Now, relaxing slightly, pushing down, Becky let Leo's Hard Hot Cock penetrate her contracting throat. Drawing it deep into her throat, filling her hungry mouth, she sucked harder and harder. She reached up, massaging Leo's Balls, enticing them to give up his juices she so desired.

Reaching down, Leo reluctantly took Becky by the shoulders, lifting her up over his body and onto her back in one swift fluid movement. He could not allow her to continue to tantalize his cock the way she had been. He would have spilled his seed at any moment. Leo opened the shoestring ties that held the filmy gown to her swollen breasts -- Now heaving with the beat of her pounding heart. Like Becky, Leo searched her body, looking for the little birthmark she had told him about. There between her breasts was the heart-shaped birthmark. Leo kisses it with a loving remembrance of his dreams of her.

Gently he took each nipple into his mouth, suckling them hungrily. Becky arched her back and with her hand drew Leo's head down onto her breast, loving the tingling rushing through her body, causing her juices to trickle down her thighs. A perfect triangle of pleasure rushes through her. From her tits being seared by the heat of Leo's mouth, to her eager pussy awaiting the attention of his promising mouth. Moving from Becky's lush breast, Leo leans up to kiss her full trembling lips, sucking on her bottom lip -- sending a thrill through Becky's body. With a tenderness she had never known before, Leo overwhelmed her senses. She needed this dream man more than she could have thought possible.

Leo breaks the sweetness of their kiss to assault her eager breasts again as he continues down her voluptuous but lean body. Over her belly, Brock smiles when he sees the ruby jewel so carefully placed in her navel. He remembered her telling him how one day she would dance for him. Such a sensuous dance belly-dancing is. Licking around the jewel sends shivers through her flaming body. First, nibbling and kissing his way to one side of her full round hips, he proceeds to the other, Becky's body squirming under his searing lips. His hand wandering down to the dew of her sweet pussy -- Her body reacting to his every touch. Leo's passion for this mystery women of his dream grew ever more.

Feeling the wetness of Becky's pussy, Leo needed to taste her sweet treasure. Sliding between her legs, pushing them apart to allow him a greater view of her secret passage, with flattened tongue Leo lapped up the length of Becky's slit. With a delicious delight, Leo tasted the honey, remembering she had told him of the sweetness of her skin. With his tongue pushing deeper into Becky's pussy, She moaned with such pleasure. Leo had never heard such a musical sound, increasing his ardor, so as to make her sing for him.

Her body rolled with a wave of graceful movement under his sweet torture. She could not hold back when he attacked her clit with a hungry mouth, sucking it hard and deliberately. From deep within her soul, she could feel the waves of pleasure course through her body. From deep in her throat a sound broke through. Continuous moans, building deeper and deeper, she gave in to her orgasm. Sweet liquid spurt from her convulsing pussy as she grasped Leo's head, pressing against his tongue as he lapped and fucked her pussy, riding his face with every spasm that shot through her.

Quickly climbing up, Leo thrust his hardened cock between her legs. Becky's eyes shot open in surprise as she realized what had happened. A surge of bitter-sweet pain shot through her. A tear glistened on her eyelid. Her dream was now a reality. Leo would now know her secret -- He was her first.

She had been with men before, but had only gone as far as oral sex, which she had perfected. Becky attacked life and mastered each aspect of it. Now, Leo had given her the next passion she would master. Thrusting her hips up to meet his every stroke, the pain subsided to a rapture she could never imagine. Leo, not wanting to stop his assault on such a sweet tight pussy, could feel the sudden pop as his thrusts broke through. He suddenly realized what had happened. A mix of feelings rushed through him -- Pleasure, respect and fear. Yet, Becky clung to him, giving herself to him. Her sweet pussy grabbing his cock, milking him of his very essence. He couldn't control himself any longer. A primal growl escaped his throat as he shot his seed deep inside of the dream he now possessed. Violent shock waves of passion wracked both their bodies, as Becky's orgasm grew longer and stronger. Thick hot liquid oozed out around Leo's plunging cock. With one final moan in unison, they collapsed in each others arms.

My peeve with this...you always wake up when you get to the good bit. Grrr...

Edited to change some names
( fuck shit up the best you never had, Fri 2 May 2008, 15:37, 7 replies)

A good walk spoiled...
Poor pavement etiquette - idiots who walk three abreast on a pavement only wide enough for three breasts, er, people, should accept that I will merrily shoulder-barge my way through them rather than step onto the road.

This pointless and aggressive reaction also applies to socially-inept twunts who ignore the request to 'allow passengers off the train first, please'.

Most of the people I do this to apologise to me. It's bad enough that they bring out my stroppy belligerence without whimpering an apology. Tards.
( thealternativefact, Fri 2 May 2008, 15:34, 2 replies)

Oooh, oooh just thought of one
People who think that just because I'm American that I;

1) Am a warmongerer that wants to bathe in the blood of third world peoples - I don't, canadian blood will do (irony for the fundamentalists out there)

2) I'm an ignorant, cousin-fucking (see I can swear, I just chose to self edit, cause I'm nice like that), gun-toting, fear-mongering, god-botherer with no sense of irony (see point 1)

3) That because I went to an American school, I don't know how to spell and am as thick as two planks nailed end-to-end - I'm incredibly bright, working as an engineer in Cambridge with a massive salary and huge job prospects (did really well at uni - no dropping out for me)

4) This is the one that really gets me in stitches - that my family in the states are all trailer-park inhabiting red necks. *BUZZ* Wrong! - more of the English side of my family are living off the back of the system, with my uncle in the states owns property from coast to coast and all points in between.

So fuck you and your generalisation of Americans, many of us are well meaning and productive members of humanity.

Length? Coast to coast, didn't you here me?
(UncleChuckles "Cthulhu fhtagn", Fri 2 May 2008, 15:32, 15 replies)

breast implants
I'm a guy (I think) who doesn't get the apparent male fascination with big boobs. The way breast sizes have been increasing over the last century is frightening: according to a Rigby & Peller rep who was interviewed a couple of years ago, they've gone from 34C to 36DD on average. Maybe it's fat, maybe it's evolutionary pressure: do big boobs make you more likely to become a mother of big-boobed daughters?
I'm also an engineering student, and while bras might be an interesting challenge in materials and cantilever design, the whole edifice looks badly-designed, and doesn't need to be that big to do its job. If women think they need big boobs to be sexy, my theory is that it's a specific kind of sexy, the kind that a specific kind of guy will pay to see. I'm not one of those guys, ask nearly all of my past girlfriends, who easily passed the "pencil test".
( bnt what, me worry?, Fri 2 May 2008, 15:32, Reply)

KC
Arent the KC the aural equivalent of cheap lager and The Sun?
( I have run out of coke is a little sweaty, Fri 2 May 2008, 15:32, 5 replies)

Economists - they talk bollocks.
Nuff said
(Redemption blamed it on the Bossa Nova since, Fri 2 May 2008, 15:29, Reply)

Bum gremlins.
I get angry about bum gremlins sometimes when I'm trying to get on with stuff and I know its not right in my trousers.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Fri 2 May 2008, 15:28, 2 replies)

suggs's advert voice
it's just horrible, so sort of smarmy and trying to sound polite - urg.
(powertiger, Fri 2 May 2008, 15:16, 1 reply)

it would be easier to list the things that don't piss me off
so here they are:

good sex
good food
red wine
summer
the sea
mountains
Radio 4
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Fri 2 May 2008, 15:16, 10 replies)

The Piccadilly line
It makes me angry that I can't go on London's Piccadilly line without committing suicide. Let me explain.

The Piccadilly line goes through Leicester Square. Russell Brand used to have a TV show called 1 Leicester Square, and it's at least slightly possible that I might see him there.

The problem is, I have a deep loathing for Russell Brand, and I have vowed to kill him if I should ever see him in person. I generally carry a bright pink leather filofax, so I'd probably beat him to death with it until he lay festering away on the pavement, getting a few kicks in for good measure.

However, Leicester Square is a big place with lots of fucking tourists in it: i.e. lots of witnesses. I'd be locked away, probably for life, while Russell Brand took on a Kurt Cobain-style iconic post-death mega-celebrity status. It would be so stressful that my meds would stop working and I'd start having epileptic seizures.

Imagine the scene: stuck in prison writhing unconscious on the floor while your arch nemesis is mourned by the nation. Tributes on TV. Tacky merchandise. Statues in every town. I'd almost certainly hang myself with ripped up sheets or electrical cord I had to dig out of the wall with my fingernails. That's not a pleasant death.

That's what makes me angry.

*edit* Also, my parents thought it would be amusing to buy me his autobiography for Christmas. I always thought I would never sink so low as to burn books. I was so wrong.
( heckzecutive is probably fail, Fri 2 May 2008, 15:12, 7 replies)

I really, really, REALLY hate....
....those God Botherer’s that scream at you whilst holding a big wooden crucifix in town centres. They particularly do this on weekends to annoy optimum numbers. All they do is bitch and should and rant on about how we're all going to go to hell for our terrible sins (like shopping?). I always have to fight the urge to start shouting something back and making myself look at pathetic as them. It should be banned - surely it's a breach of the peace.
( DUMBLONDE is a rubber lover girl, Fri 2 May 2008, 15:12, 2 replies)

also
I don't like it when other people breathe.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Fri 2 May 2008, 15:10, Reply)

teleportation
I'm very peeved by the fact that I can't teleport. I thought I was getting the hang of time travel but evidently something is going wrong somewhere. I blame the indistinguishability of quantum mechanical particles.

*zips up bodywarmer, climbs into De Lorean and drives away in a huff*
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Fri 2 May 2008, 15:09, 6 replies)

coppers
no not the filth

copper coins, they are filthy

filthy smelly dirty and entirely uneccessary

if retailers didn't 'cunningly dupe' us into thinking 4.99 is somehow around the 4 quid mark as apposed to a fiver then we wouldn't need the damn things

i mean honestly, when did you last buy anything that cost less than 5p

i never take them back out of the house now. last time i counted and bagged them for the bank (is that not their bloody job) i received a similar level of remuneration for my time as a chinese cockle picker

no i just refuse the penny in shops, and when i'm clearing up at home (i'm sure the fuckers breed) i just throw them in the bloody bin

lookafter the pennies? - bollocks
( spimf ™ is whoever you want him to be, Fri 2 May 2008, 15:06, 5 replies)

LOL
I have seen numerous rants about people typing it - but my brother has taken this to the next, even more infuriating level.

He actually says "LOL" to indicate amusement (as a word, rather than an acronym). It has actually replaced genuine laughter in his repertoire of spoken word and sound.
(insert username here, Fri 2 May 2008, 15:06, 3 replies)

Bad Grammar
I'm a Grammar Nazi. I constantly feel the urge to correct grammatically bad shop signs with red pen.

At work, we received a letter that was so bad, it would have been better written by monkeys. I practically had to be restrained from sending it back with corrections.

I've noticed that there are a lot of Grammar Nazis on B3ta.... perhaps we should organise some sort of meet?
(YayLady is cold, Fri 2 May 2008, 15:06, 4 replies)

My fucking bosses,
I've just been ranted at for 30 minutes about immigrants, being told that "they fucking shit in the corners of the rooms, then they say they don't like running water... And this isn't just 1 family! It's 8 or 9!"

I was told that this country is in debt, going bankrupt and has no money (not just that it has money but uses it incorrectly) how do we know this? Why "If you read the right newspapers you'll know for a fact that this country is going bankrupt!"

Oh, and I don't know if you know this, but immigrants and asylum seekers get really nice cars and houses. They also plant "their own people" in the dole offices to help them fill out their applications, as long as they buy the desk jockey a sarnie and a cuppa, ofcourse. But no, don't worry, it's not like that everywhere... You couldn't go to a garage and get a dodgy M.O.T in exchange for a burger. That's just obsurd, it's good, hard working British people in them garages.

Last, but not least, I was asked if I've ever looked at a council tax bill/form/thingy mabobby, "because on there it says you have to pay £50 for those that knock it. That's for all them foreigners that is" (They forgot to mention the bit about comin' over here and stealin' our goats). I was then told that the council no longer take immigrants or asylum seekers to court, because they're dodgy as fuck and it's too expensive to take 'em there now.

After I pointed out that all this, especially the last bit about council tax, was just media spin off, I was told I'm talking bollocks, and that I should piss off.

May I now take the chance to say that my sister works for a council tax department, and she has to issue, or atleast aid in the process of issuing, summons quite frequently.

I was asked if I voted BNP yesterday because they're the only way to go now. I took pride in telling them I voted Labour just to keep the BNP out*.




*I only voted Labour because my three choices were Labour, Tory or BNP, I simply chose the lesser of three evils.
(Belgaer is, Fri 2 May 2008, 15:05, 4 replies)

The Strokes
You utter bastards! You ruined Indie music forever!

Allow me to explain...

Indie music used to have good bands, like Radiohead (before they vanished up their own arses), the Manics, Sparklehorse, Mercury Rev, Beck, and other fine artists.

Then a bunch of rich kids from New York practiced 7 hours a day in a futile attempt to make up for their total lack of talent, got their rich parents to blag them a record deal and paid for a mountain of publicity. Congratulations! You are now famous musicians! The music press drooled over them, not because their tunes were very good, but because they wore *such* fashionable clothes!

Cue every shaggy-haired, skinny, no-talent hipster/poser picking up a Gibson ES-335 and bashing at it tunelessly whilst yelping into the mic about nothing in particular. Hundreds of horrible identikit bands started to appear, with really stupid names starting with "the" (The Datsuns, The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, the Kooks, and, in particular, the View, whose smug talentless lead singer needs a short, sharp visit from Chuck Norris's right foot in my opinion). And the poser kids drooled over them, not their shitty music, but their leather jackets and shaggy hair.

And now indie music is flooded with talentless, tuneless rubbish, with no way to distinguish one lot of totally unmusical, lobotomised shaggy-haired automatons from another, apart from the date they appeared on Jonathan Ross's crappy chatshow.

Indie music is dead, good bands like the Kaiser Chiefs and Franz Ferdinand submerged in a sea of market-driven, identical shit bands.

It's all your fault, the Strokes. You started all this. You owe the whole world an apology.
(Axeman Jim, Fri 2 May 2008, 15:05, 6 replies)

7)
The lack of manners nowadays.

Its not difficult, no really it isn't, to hold open a door for someone, to say please or thankyou as per bobfossils post.

Even little things like not crossing on stairs if you can wait, little polite things. Holding up a hand to say thanks for waiting if you let a car in / out / through at a junction. spitting, there is just no need.

Just try a little harder to be nice, even if its to someone you don't like. try it, its good fun, and you get smiles from people a lot of the time.
(Halfy By light alone, Fri 2 May 2008, 15:04, 1 reply)